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Turn to the left…Turn to the right…FASHION!
It was bound to happen at some point: we slept through our alarms Saturday morning, our third day in Italy. Frantically, I texted our tour guide and let her know we would be late, and we did our best to get suitably pretty as fast as we could.
Looks mattered for this one, as I had booked a Milan Couture Fashion Tour through Context Travel. Much like the food tours, there were many fashion tour options, with Milan being the fashion capital. But none of the ones I found on the typical sites resonated with me. During my research, I stumbled upon this article, which led me to Context Travel and our lovely guide, Emilija Kelcher.
Emilija was waiting for us outside the Emporio Armani cafe when we breathlessly ran up. As our heart rates settled, she told us about her background, coming to Italy as a young woman from Croatia to be a model, and her later years working in the industry in other ways, and filled us in on what to expect. The tour was just the three of us (and the price was very reasonable — not much more than on the bigger group tours). We would spend the next few hours visiting various shops and ateliers in the fashion district known as the Quadrilatero, learning about the history of designers, and the industry, and would stop along the way if something caught our eyes. Oh — and so much did!
Our first stop was inside Armani, where we discussed his career and how he has changed fashion as we know it. from inventing the color greige, to, in his words “soften(ing) the image of men and harden(ing) the image of women” by creating less structured suits for men and power suits for women. We drooled over some of his fashions in the store.
Designers of course have long branched out from clothing. I was drawn to his love of flowers — in Milan, you can order from Armani Fiori and the designs are exquisite. The minimalist lines of the cafe decor were an interesting juxtaposition to the Christmas tree outside — and the view from the windows is a special treat all its own!
Besides the wonderful clothing, Emilija shared some of her favorite buildings and architectural hidden gems. These pictures are from the intersection of Via Santo Spirito and Via Gesu.
These two streets are connected by the Bagatti Valsecchi Museum and the private home of the people who own it. We did not visit the museum, but it is now on my short list of must-sees for a return visit. It is a “house museum,” showcasing the collection amassed in the late 1900s by a pair of brothers. The mansion, filled with items from the 15th and 16th centuries, is considered one of the finest examples of what a Lombardy mansion would have looked like at that time.
She had us stop in at the Four Seasons Hotel Milano. Besides stunning, as all Four Seasons properties tend to be, this one is remarkable for its history. The hotel is housed in what used to be a convent dating back to the 15th century. During recent renovations, frescoes were uncovered and preserved around the hotel, and they are definitely worth a look if you are in the area. The holiday decor was stunning as well.
Back on the fashion trail, Frankie and I discovered a store that Emiliji hadn’t visited before, and we were pleased with ourselves when she seemed impressed by it as well, especially when she saw the quality and the price point. Atelier Eme is a dreamy place, filled with bridal wear and special occasion dresses and all sorts of accessories, shoes, and the like. With the obligatory proffered glass of bubbles in hand, we explored while Emilija talked shop with the manager.
The prices were actually kind of amazing for the level of work done and the originality of the wedding dresses. The girl and I decided we would seriously consider coming back here someday when wedding dress shopping was on a to-do list!
Another well-heeled highlight was a stop at Dolce&Gabbana. These pictures show the items I would have chosen if offered: that fantabulous copper feathery loungewear set, and can you guess which accessory?
Next up was Gucci!
If you want more info on that poker chip set, click here. My birthday is in April, FYI…
Looking for fashion trends? These pictures at Prada really summed up a few things I saw often: Mary Janes with straps, bucket hats, purses with doodads, and lots of feminine details like flowers. This dress has straps made out of crystal daisies. Oh and this store, Pinko, made me salivate. It has inspired me to renovate my closet!
When the tour ended, we backtracked to some places we had to rush past. A favorite spot was the Piazza Quadrilatero—Ex Seminario Arcivescovile di Milano, an old seminary turned into a divine shopping area. We availed ourselves of the beautiful grounds for a quick photo shoot before visiting the stores.
One of our favorite shops there was Antonia, but the reason I really wanted to return to that shopping area was to visit a jewelry shop called SO-LE STUDIO. This really unique place features jewelry made out of leather that looks like metal. The founder is the granddaughter of the famous shoe designer Salvatore Ferragamo, and she liked the idea of transforming leftover bits of leather and brass. This is where I picked up my souvenir for the trip!
That evening was our last in Milan before heading to Sicily in the morning. So we took our photo shoot back to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, and did what everyone else was doing: posed by the Christmas tree!
Afterward, we decided to find the bar we had seen from the roof of the Duomo on our first day and found ourselves at Duomo Terrace 21. After a cocktail and enjoying the view, we realized that there was another part of the building with a DJ, so we headed there. We soon found ourselves dancing with new friends from Turkey, having a ball listening to music by Andryx and sadly heading back to the hotel earlier than we wanted. At 1am, the party was just starting, but we had a plane to catch the next day!
Today’s totals: walked 12,646 steps or 4.95 miles and climbed 6 flights of stairs
Sunday’s flight wasn’t until the afternoon, so we had time to kill after packing. A European city is the best place for that, so a-wandering we went!
All roads from our hotel lead through the Galleria, so first we popped into Swarovski Crystals, which had always been closed when we’d been there before. The store took a jewel-box approach to displaying its wares. I was reminded of honeycomb, with glistening treasures hidden in the golden nooks and crannies.
We wandered past some holiday Lego displays…
…and ended up at, well, McDonald’s. We honestly just needed a bathroom break, but I couldn’t help marveling at the differences between a Milanese Mickey D’s and one in the States. Clean and classy, with multiple levels, everyone waiting patiently at different stations, depending on what they ordered at the automated kiosk. Of course, if you were simply ordering pastries and coffee, that was available at the espresso bar at the front. Yes: the full-service, high-quality espresso bar. Sigh…
We were headed towards the Castello Sforzesco, which we had seen lit up and looked up on our first night. This time we would be able to walk around the grounds, but would not have time to purchase a ticket and explore inside. Another item added to the “next time” list!
The castle was built in the 14th century and has been a symbol of Milanese glory and tyranny ever since. It has been the home of powerful people from many nations, as well as a fort and barracks for centuries. In the 1800s the city decided to renovate it, and in 1905 the castle and grounds opened to the public. The grounds house more than ten museums, including priceless works by Leonardo DaVinci. The park grounds cover more than 60 acres!
After a quick but delicious lunch at Bravo Bistro it was time to say ciao to the wonderful friends at The Street. But not for long: after Sicily, we would return to Milan for one last night!
When we landed in Sicily, my son Carter and his wife Lisa were waiting for us at the airport in Catania, where we secured our rental car and headed inland towards Mineo, Lisa’s hometown. Carter took the wheel for the one-hour drive for a few reasons. One, he gets car sick if he’s not driving, and the roads we were taking were not going to be exactly straight or flat. The second reason? Those roads. Steep, windy, and dark, the countryside was gorgeous in the daylight, but Carter didn’t really want me tackling it all for the first time in the dark. Fair — especially when he and Lisa argued over which map directions to take, in my small SUV rental (I wanted a smaller car, but when we realized that we would need a vehicle for 4 people plus luggage, my plans had to change). So we ended up on dirt roads in orange groves in the middle of the night, hoping neither sheep nor suspicious armed farmers crossed our path.
When we finally reached Mineo, high atop a hillside, we parked in a municipal lot and dragged our luggage up the ancient cobbled streets. There was no driving or parking within the city, that’s for sure. We made so much noise that one woman actually came out to investigate, fearful that a chunk of one of the ancient buildings had fallen off!
In the morning, we started to explore Mineo. The current village was founded in 459 BC, but there is archeological evidence of even older settlements. Like the rest of Sicily, the town’s fortunes, culture, and population bear the imprint of all the civilizations who have invaded and ruled over the centuries, including the Greeks, Romans, and Arabs. Many of the buildings in Mineo were built after the devastating Sicilian earthquake of 1693, but there are more modern ones as well, like the place we rented.
We stayed in an Airbnb rented out by the charming couple Marco and Maria, who, of course, knew Lisa’s parents (Mineo is a pretty small place). The 3 bedroom home had two living rooms and a rooftop deck with phenomenal views.
It was frankly way bigger than we needed, but there honestly weren’t a ton of options, the price for 5 days was less than a 2-night hotel stay in Milan, and the unit was literally around the corner from Lisa’s parents’ home, so it was perfect!
In the morning I was eager to explore Mineo a bit. We started with espresso and pastries, then meandered.
Sicilians embrace the Nativity scene like no one else. I learned this when we visited for the first time in 2021, and this visit cemented that belief. Mineo took it to the next level, as you will see in another post. But here are some miniature examples of their zeal:
Soon it was time for what I was most excited about: lunch with Lisa’s parents! The whole point of this trip was meeting Maria and Giuseppe. I had been worrying for months about what to wear, what gifts to bring, and if they would like me. They had welcomed my son into their family, and that meant everything. I know it had to be hard for them. I am sure they had to be leery of this dimpled Navy kid charming his way into their daughter’s life!
They were lovely.
Lisa played translator, as their English wasn’t stellar, and my Italian was abysmal (and don’t even ask about my Sicilian!). But we managed, and we laughed and smiled, bonded by our mutual love for our children. Oh — and over Maria’s amazing food!
Today’s total: walked 18,417 steps or 6.97 miles and climbed 19 flights of stairs
Luck of the Irish Travels
Part 2 of a 3-parter!
Our flight to Ireland was early, and none of us were great in the morning. Our biggest concern, however, was the looming transportation strike. We were assured that the underground would not strike until the afternoon rush hour, so we should be fine in the morning. The strike ended up not being an issue, but the morning ride to Heathrow Airport Terminal 2 was not seamless. Once the train arrived at the first terminal, the train stopped cold. The train before us was having a medical emergency, so it would be a minute. Au contraire. After about 5 minutes, we were all told to get off the train, and that the train we were on had to reverse out so the other train could go. Good luck to all!
The throngs were nervous, as we all had flights to catch. We assumed we would just walk to the next terminal, but were quickly informed that it would be an impossibly long trek. Above ground, we found ourselves at a bus terminal, and we quickly divided to conquer. I ran to ask for help at the ticket counter, while the kids ran to the buses. I bought us passes for the bus to the next terminal, and we were off. Sweating.
I was hard-pressed to live my mantra “Don’t worry, because it doesn’t help.” Instead, I started planning in my mind. I knew there had to be more flights to Dublin that day, so worse came to worst we would try to get on one of those. We made it to the correct terminal after about a 15-minute bus ride (definitely too far to walk!) and rushed inside. Unfortunately, all of the self-check stations (and there were no counters) had lines, and many of those broke as we watched and waited. Again, we divided up. Everyone on their own, so to speak, and meet you at the gate. We got in line for security, and I made it through easily. I looked around, and when I didn’t see the kids. I assumed that meant they were ahead of me so I rushed on.
Nope, not at the gate, and they were boarding.
I called and texted Carter and Frankie. No answer.
I promised the nice Irish man taking tickets that the kids were on their way, and he said no problem, there was time. After a few minutes, and a few sideways glances at my pacing self, he asked, “Have you called them?” I told him I had with no response. We looked at his watch and said I’d be okay. But I knew he was getting concerned.
A few minutes later, Frankie rushed over. She had been forced to take anything vaguely liquidy out and place it in a baggie (mind you these were the same things she had already flown with). Final call for boarding, and still no Carter in sight. He came rushing up, and we hustled aboard. That was far too close for comfort! We had planned to have breakfast at the airport, but that clearly didn’t happen. So we were going to buy food on the plane, which was listed as an option. Nope. Not on this very short flight to Dublin! So we tried to quell the hunger by dreaming of Guinness and Irish potatoes to come.
I had agonized over our Ireland itinerary. Some places just didn’t make sense time-wise, others were not good for the season. I settled on two nights each in Dublin, Galway, and Cork. As always with my travels, I could have stayed longer in each, and can’t wait to go back and see the places we had to skip!
First was Dublin, where we stayed at the Fleet Hotel Temple Bar.
Highlights: The location was perfect, the lobby was stunning, the room was clean and the bathrooms were modern. Loved the free waters! Didn’t love that our room was so dark, and they needed heavier doors to keep out the hallway noise, but oh well. If you have issues with steps or long hallways, be forewarned that this is in an old building, so there will be some up two, down one, long hallways, and a couple more stairs kind of things. Not a huge issue for us, but could be for some.
After dropping our bags, our first priority was food. We found The Duke, a lovely pub that fits the bill perfectly, I enjoyed a traditional Sunday roast with all the trimmings, and the kids filled up on soups, stews, bread, and chicken wings. The beer and whiskey weren’t bad either!
Next, we were off to Trinity College, to see the Book of Kells. I had never heard of the book before planning this trip, but it is a beautiful religious text from about 800 A.D., a national treasure, and the showpiece of the famed The library is undergoing renovation, so many of the books are off the shelves, but it is a stunning place nonetheless. They have installed an interactive exhibit called the Book of Kells Experience, which was so cool.
I would have liked to have spent more time exploring the college grounds, but it was chilly and late, and, well: the kids, lol. So we headed back to the hotel to get ready for a night out in Dublin.
We started at the hotel restaurant, Cafe 1920, enjoying beverages and a light dinner.
While our meal was good, the most memorable part of this stop was our interaction with the woman seated at the table next to us. I didn’t take much notice of her at first, just a woman enjoying a solo meal out, much like would do while traveling. But at one point when the three of us laughed about something, she snapped “Do you have to be so loud?” We were just shocked! I mean, how do you respond to that? Well, we just kind of shifted in our seats and I stewed. When we stood to leave, I just turned to her, and channeled my inner-passive aggressive Minnesota voice: “I am sorry our happiness was so offensive to you.” Before I could even finish my sentence, she declared in a British, not an Irish accent: “Indeed!” I rolled my eyes and walked away.
“Indeed!” became quite the buzzword for the rest of the trip.
Next, we went next door to The Palace Bar, which our cab driver recommended as his fave local haunt. I had one thing on my mind: my first true Irish Guinness. Hokey and touristy, I know, but I’ve had Irish bar owners in the US wistfully tell me how they had tried and tried but could never replicate that Irish Guinness taste. One thing I found different? The Irish Guinness seems lighter: more like a drink than a meal. I tried them in various locations, and I loved them all!
After this bar, we wandered around to look for trad music. The first place we stopped was more like a college town bar, with a guy singing covers, while American football games played on the television. Fine, but not the vibe we sought. So we found a pub that was happening, The Auld Dubliner. It was lively and the singer was better, but after a round of “Sweet Caroline” (I cannot escape that song!), we decided it was time to move on.
In my research, I found a speakeasy that we went to next. It ended up having, in the girl’s opinion, the best martini on the trip (the second one was even better!). The Vintage Cocktail Club was a sexy joint filled with cooler people than me enjoying a wide variety of cocktails.
The cocktail list was 20 pages long, divided chronologically starting with drinks from the 1400s. I highly recommend visiting this place!
The next morning, we headed to a tour at Kilmainham Gaol. Consider this pace to be the Irish version of Alcatraz: a spooky, damp, sad old prison with a lot of history. But the history at Kilmainham is more important, as it figures prominently in the Irish revolution for independence in the 1920s. Before I came on this trip, I watched the mini-series Rebellion, which I would highly recommend. It familiarized me with the history of the rebellion and made it even more exciting to visit the places where that history occurred. I often do things like that before I travel, be it watching a movie, or reading a book about the area I am visiting. I think it’s important to be aware of why places are important and to not just treat them as Insta-fodder.
On the tour, our guide told us many heartbreaking stories, including the one Rod Stewart sings about in his song Grace. So beautiful! The museum you visit after the tour is equally important, so save yourself some time to go through all the many exhibits. I was particularly moved by the letters home from the condemned men.
After our tour, we needed sustenance. The only place I could find nearby was directly across the street, and I worried it might be a tourist trap. But The Patriots Inn was delicious (so far Ireland was kicking London’s culinary butt). I love me some bangers and mash (hey now!), and this pork and leek sausage was perfect. The only better thing was my Bailey’s Coffee, with a cream on top so thick I could have set a euro on top and it would have never sunk through. Yes, please!
I wanted to wander to our next destination, but the kids were cold. So I compromised and we grabbed a taxi to St Patrick’s Cathedral. My kids tolerate my fascination with cathedrals and graveyards. To them, it’s just another church. But they are more to me. I don’t see them as religious destinations, although clearly, they are. However, places of worship meant so much more to the people who frequented them hundreds of years ago. They were the social and political hub and seeing them from that historical vantage point makes them read differently to me.
St Patrick’s was built in the 12th century, and is the final resting place of the author Jonathon Swift (Gulliver’s Travels), and, interestingly, his “best friend”, Esther Johnson. One of the best things about travel is that it inspires me to learn, so I immediately started looking into this relationship. Not much is known, only that he was her tutor (when she was 16 and he was 30), and that when she died he was so bereft he couldn’t even look out the window towards her funeral. He insisted that she be buried at the cathedral, and he beside her when his time came. It is rumored they were secretly married, but we will never know.
See? Old churches can be cool!
Next, we visited Dublin Castle. This more than 1,000-year-old building was the home base for English rule, until the 1922 revolution, when it was handed over to Irish rebellion leader Michael Collins. While we did not get to see the tower or dungeons, as we didn’t book a tour, we did visit the State Apartments. The State Apartments are a museum, filled with art and historic memorabilia. They are still used today for political events, such as the swearing-in of the Irish president, entertaining visiting heads of state, and hosting state dinners.
I do think the kids found it interesting as well, although they could’ve been happy just because they were in a warm place. If asked, I bet they would say their favorite part of that visit was seeing a fox outside on the grounds. This shocked and excited us, but evidently, wild foxes are common in London and Dublin. Who knew?
Our final planned destination that afternoon was Silver Works where we were taking a ring-making class. I learned about this opportunity in one of my Facebook groups on travel in Ireland. We, along with a couple from Dublin on a date night, were given small strips of silver which we then turned into rings. It really was a great activity, and we all walked away with a fun souvenir. As I’ve mentioned before, I have started purchasing jewelry on my travels as a souvenir, and this was extra special because it was part of a shared experience with my kids.
When we returned to the hotel, the girl had to make a call, so we changed for dinner then Carter and I went out for a walk. It was bittersweet because we knew he was leaving in the morning. I was glad to eke out some one-on-one time.
He and I stopped at Flanagan’s for an appetizer, which should have gone smoothly. However, when they were delivered, they gave us the wrong thing. I grabbed what I thought was a piece of fried brie, only to sink my teeth into a deep-fried mushroom. I gagged and spat it out, while Carter laughed so hard, I think he was crying. I detest mushrooms! The restaurant apologized and brought us the cheese (which was awesome). I ate a lot of it to purge my brain of the mushroom incident.
We met back up with Frankie and headed to dinner at Kathmandu Kitchen. We originally had planned to get Indian food while in London, but the place we wanted to try there had an hour-long wait, so we tried this one instead. Actually a Nepalese and Indian food combo restaurant, the food was warm and savory and happy. Visit if you are in Dublin!
Sadly, Carter left us early the next morning. I am glad we got part of the trip with him but we were all beyond frustrated with the Navy for screwing up his paperwork, necessitating a return to Sicily. I will be quite happy when he is finally a civilian again! We sleepily bade him farewell before the sun came up and tried to fall back asleep. But my brain remembered my big adventure coming up, and no more sleep for me!
Today was to be an adventure of a whole other kind: I was getting a rental car and would be driving for the rest of our time in Ireland. Gulp. I was apprehensive but sure that I could do it. Good news: they upgraded the rental to a beautiful Volvo SUV. Bad news: they upgraded our rental to a beautiful Volvo SUV. I had asked for a small car, as that was everyone’s advice for navigating the narrow roads. Turns out the “upgrade” is one they foist on tourists because the bigger cars just sit on the lot. Ugh. I was immensely grateful for the myriad cameras on the car, which ended up being absolutely vital. FYI: upon the advice of the Irish travel sites I followed, I rented through My Irish Cousin, a rental car agency that contracts with other companies. Our car was actually an Enterprise vehicle but used MIC for all the paperwork. I opted for ALL the coverage, as I didn’t want to worry about scrapes and scratches and wanted roadside assistance if needed (American auto insurance does not often extend to rentals in Ireland).
Our first stop on our way to Galway was the little town of Athlone, home of Sean’s, the oldest bar in Ireland. Dating to 900 AD, this place is a charmer!
When I return to Ireland, I will try to stay a night in Athlone to see Sean’s in its full evening glory. As it was, we enjoyed a cup of tea around the fire and marveled at the pub. Note: like most European countries, there is a zero alcohol tolerance policy for driving, thus the Guinness abstinence at Sean’s! After our drink we briefly explored Athlone. Whenever we travel, Frankie’s highlights are always animal-centric, and running into a Merle French Bulldog named Drogo in a park, who loved running around with us, was a great road trip break!
As we approached Galway, I started to get a bit nervous. I find driving in unfamiliar cities can be a bit daunting, no matter what side of the road you are on. Mind you, I am not afraid of doing it. But I do feel like the tighter and more crowded the space, the more possibilities there are for mistakes. As I entered the parking garage, I encountered the most stressful driving experience of the whole trip. The turns in this garage were ridiculously tight (man I wish I had the smaller car!) But those cameras proved invaluable. I didn’t hit anything, even if it did take me about three attempts per turn, eventually figuring out the correct turning radius by about the 6th try. We had been told that while this garage was closer to our hotel, there was a more navigable one down the road. I decided that when we left this one, we would use that one instead, no matter how long of a walk it was!
We stayed at The Residence Hotel Pluses: great staff, super cute decor, free water, nice beds, clean, comfortable, attached pub, location. Downside: oddly, the location. We were on the streetside, and the live music downstairs definitely made me grateful for earplugs!
Frankie and I guiltily chose Italian food for dinner that night. I say we felt guilty simply because we knew we wouldn’t be eating it if Carter had been with us, as he didn’t come from Sicily to eat pasta in Ireland, lol. Our meal at Venice Ristorante was a trip food highlight for sure.
From there we headed towards a recommended pub for a pint and some trad music. Tig Choili is in Galway’s Latin Quarter, just a few minutes from our hotel.
It was crowded with locals, with a few tourists squeezing in for good measure. They have live music every night, so check it out if you are in town.
On Wednesday, our goal was the Cliffs of Moher. I had planned an early-ish morning start, but my girl just felt so sick I let her sleep an extra couple of hours. While she rested, I took some time to wander the streets of Galway. It was quiet and beautiful. I do love this part of travel!
I enjoyed coffee and a sausage roll at a branch of the British chain Caffe Nero before bringing some hot tea and a chocolate croissant from Bar Italia Ciarlantini back to the hotel for Frankie. Fortified, we returned to the wretched parking garage and headed out.
When planning the trip, I asked the kids what they most wanted to do. Frankie chose castles and ruins, so I did my best to find what I could. On the way to the Cliffs, we took a slight detour to find Tyrone House. Built in 1779, it was not as old as many of the things we marveled at, but beautiful and eerie and worth a visit. Oh yeah: and it is currently inhabited by very friendly donkeys! And another oh yeah: we had to hop fences to get there. No signs that said no trespassing, but it isn’t exactly open to the public. But it is out in the countryside, surrounded by fields and sheep and private homes on their own acreages, so we felt it was worth the risk.
Back in the car, the girl napped while I admired the gorgeous countryside. I know this was the dead of winter, but it is scary to think the place gets prettier in the warm months! This was an adventurous day for me, where I learned how to navigate the narrow roads and share them with tractors, buses, and people who drove waaaay faster than myself!
Upon arriving at the Cliffs of Moher, we suited up, expecting it to be horribly windy and cold as we had been forewarned it would be. It really wasn’t that bad! I don’t know if we had a good day for it, or if everyone else was a little bit wimpy. We walked around and marveled at the scenery, and climbed a beautiful tower. Unfortunately, being outside was not making Frankie feel any better, so we didn’t hike around as much as we had planned.
My goal was to get back to Galway before nightfall. I just didn’t want to drive those narrow roads in the dark! I mean, there were zero streetlights on pretty much any of the roads we traveled, whether they were country lanes or freeways. But we were hungry, and we opted to detour to the town of Doolin, which was highly recommended for its charm, shops, and restaurants. On our way, we chanced upon Doonagore Castle.
Built in the 14th century, The castle was once the site of a mass hanging of more than 170 Spanish sailors whose armada ship crashed on the cliffs below. Now, it is privately owned and closed to the public, but you know us: we clambered over a stone wall and walked on over. We took a few quick pics before someone came and told us to leave, and continued on our way.
We came to where Google told us the bustling town of Doolin was located and found a couple of houses and a closed restaurant. I am not sure how we went wrong, but clearly, I’d put the wrong info into my GPS. Frustrated, I decided we would just go straight back to Galway since darkness was quickly closing in. Availing ourselves of the hotel receptionist’s suggestion, we parked at the harbor parking garage, which was spacious and easy to navigate. (However, when it came time to leave the next day, I screwed up by not prepaying and causing a minor traffic jam for those also trying to leave. Ugh).
For dinner, I tried to find a place that served lobster, as we had heard it was good in Ireland (mind you, this was for the girl. I don’t do seafood, but she had been feeling so yucky I wanted to make it happen for her). Google sent us to McSwiggan’s back in Galway, but: no lobster on the menu. So, she settled for calamari with her steak, which she liked very much. I got a very weird burger. It didn’t taste bad, just odd. I kept trying it over and over, trying to put my finger on it. It was just so dense! I think it was overground and overworked maybe? I don’t know. I have found that steaks in Europe are rarely up to my Midwestern standards (except in Florence, Italy), but burgers can be good. This just wasn’t to my taste. The beet tartine appetizer was amazing, though!
On Thursday we left Galway and headed southeast to Cork. But first, we had a very special stop to make.
Ashford Castle has belonged to many families over the years, including the Guinnesses. The medieval castle has been continuously inhabited and improved and has been a hotel since the 1930s. It is featured in many movies and TV shows and has had guests ranging from music stars to heads of state and everyone in between. It is gorgeous, and I want to go back and stay there. But for this visit, we were due first at the Ireland School of Falconry!
We met up with our guide, who showed us around the immaculate and spacious grounds. These birds have a stunning setup! We were outfitted with our gloves and received some basic instructions before we met our hawks, Mya and Atlas. With the birds on our arms, we wandered out to the grounds, and let them fly about, raising our arms when we wanted them to return. Watching them fly from tree to tree, hunting and soaring, was something I will never forget. Absolutely a highlight of the trip.
Afterwards, we were due for tea inside the castle. Sandwiches, pastries, tea, and champagne were a perfect cap off. Then we wandered the grounds, and explored the castle, dreaming of a return trip, before it was, sadly, time to get back on the road.
There was no way to avoid darkness this time, but as most of the drive was on multi-lane highways it wasn’t too bad. We were pointed towards Cork, the one destination I was unsure of. The travel boards kind of dismissed it, but it worked out well for us. We stayed at the River Lee Hotel. This was the most modern hotel of the trip, which was fine. It was large clean and well-located. The staff was great, and the parking was easy (yeah!). The only downside was the room temp. It was just cold! The staff felt terrible and brought us a space heater, which definitely helped.
I had already made reservations at a well-rated restaurant that was supposed to have lobster (they didn’t, lol). Cork has a foodie reputation, and I would agree with that based on our experience at The Cornstore. Beautifully decorated, the food was lovely and the drinks delicious. A terrific cap to a fantastic day.
Anyone who knows me thinks it’s probably ironic that I wanted to kiss the Blarney Stone, but I did. Legend has it that all who kiss it will be blessed with the gift of gab. I wonder: for the chatty Cathies that kiss it, does it have a silencing effect? Guess we will have to wait and see!
Blarney Castle was a short drive from Cork, which is one of the reasons I picked the town. The grounds were almost deserted, which is such a great perk about traveling in the shoulder season! It was clear from all the signage that this place must be packed in the warmer months. But the grounds were magical in the misty damp, and there was no way we could have enjoyed them if we weren’t basically all alone. And since you spent about 47 seconds at the actual stone, I would have hated waiting in line for it!
That evening we went pub hopping and found one of our favorite ones in Ireland, Sin E was a snug little jewel box filled with handsome men in wool sweaters, tremendous music memorabilia, and even better trad music. It also had an adorable pit bull just hanging out, waiting for pets, which we happily doled out!
On Saturday we were to say goodbye to Ireland and head back to London. On the way back to the airport, I wanted to stop at various sites, but Frankie still wasn’t feeling her best. So, we just did one stop, and it was stunning. The Rock of Cashel has been around since pre-Christian days and was reportedly where St Patrick himself baptized kings and banished Satan (busy dude). In the interest of time, we didn’t book a tour, and if I go back, I will do so because I know I missed out on so much. But just walking around this amazing site was tremendous. One of the things I found fascinating was that the graves there are both ancient and recent, as it is the oldest working graveyard in Ireland.
After our quick stroll, we had brunch at a lovely local restaurant, the Ladyswell. A shared full Irish breakfast was a great last meal on the Emerald Isle!
Final (Apple) Core Memories
Sunday found me ready to carbo-load.
My first scheduled activity was a tour with NYC Bagel Tours. My little group (just me and a family of 3) hit up three bagel shops, tasting a variety of the ubiquitous doughy delights and a smorgasbord of tasty schmears while learning about the history of the bagel. I typically gravitate towards the savory side of the bagel world, and tours like this one expose you to choices you might not ordinarily make. On this adventure, we visited the Bagel Pub, Liberty Bagels (home of the rainbow bagel!), and the Bagel Market.
I absolutely recommend this tour!
Bagel Pub: Cinnamon raisin with pumpkin cream cheese 
Bagel Pub: Egg with cucumber dill 
Bagel Pub: everything pumpernickel with chipotle bacon 
Bagel Pub art gallery! 
Jalapeno with avocado herb and rainbow with birthday cake 
Liberty Bagels: rainbow with birthday cake 
So many bagels 
Bagel Market: Salt with green olive and pimento
That afternoon I was scheduled for another trek, this time to cross the Brooklyn Bridge. I had never walked it before, so this was another NYC bucket list item. I picked a tour guide that sounded irreverent and fun, and that didn’t take themselves seriously. I’m not sharing the company, because, well, I wasn’t ultimately impressed. They had good info, and I did learn things. I found it particularly interesting that the bridge’s building was secretly overseen by a woman, the wife of the ailing bridge engineer. If you watch The Gilded Age, you will see her character this season! But I just didn’t dig this guide’s approach (they actually seemed like they couldn’t wait to get the tour over with, and wanted to talk about themselves more than the bridge). I don’t want to disparage someone who might be terrific on another day and with another crowd, so I won’t name names. A suggestion for other guides: when you have a solo traveler, offer to take their pictures, and suggest great vantage spots to do so (my bike tour guide was great at this).
It was a rainy day, which was great because it cut the crowds down. Unfortunately, not all the views were the greatest due to the clouds, but that’s okay. I enjoyed the walk!
When I was done, I wandered around the area right under the bridge. I would like to do more of that on a future trip, as it was a very cool area. I cozied up to The Lobby Bar inside the Time Out Market under the bridge, which I really enjoyed. The bartender was chatty and companionable, and I enjoyed the respite from the drizzly weather. Then it was back outside for a few more pics!
That evening I decided to try a new cuisine — Cuban! I dined at Guantanamera, a highly recommended place with a live salsa band and dancing. A little chorizo with plantains, a mojito (maybe 2!), and a gorgeous hunk of saucy pork, and I was content!
My Monday tour was another long-time wish list destination. The Tenement Museum gives a glimpse into the lives of immigrants, migrants, and refugees who have lived in New York. My biggest problem with this place was deciding which tour to take! This museum is not one where you wander aimlessly through exhibits; rather, you take a tour focussing on a family’s experience. I opted for the 1865 German immigrant tour, which told the story of John and Caroline Schneider. The knowledgeable guide really brought the family’s experience to life and left me eager to try other tours on a future visit.
The Tenement Museum was a few blocks from Chinatown, so I headed that way to explore further and grab some lunch. I ended up at the Mott Street eatery food court and stopped by the highly praised Sanmiwago booth for some Taiwanese dumplings.
I am a sucker for dumplings, and will almost always choose them when they are in front of me! It was a perfectly sized lunch to tide me over until my big dinner that evening.
I headed downtown to visit some more historic landmarks. First up was Federal Hall, where George Washington took the oath of office.
This was not the most interesting place I visited, but, to be fair, it was undergoing some renovations. But it was free, and around the corner from a place I really was excited about, so it was certainly not a mistake to stop in.
Trinity Church is a working house of worship but is also a fabulous place to visit if you are fascinated by graveyards and the stories they tell. Founded more than 300 years ago, it has gained a lot of recent attention, as it is the final resting place of Alexander Hamilton, his wife Eliza, and her sister Angelica. It is a beautiful place, and there is a great, free, downloadable walking tour that makes many of the stories come alive, so to speak.
I enjoyed the visit, although I did have a little emotional breakdown. This cemetery reminded me so much of the one Rich and I visited in Boston, that spring when we started to realize something was seriously wrong. I tried to contain my tears, but I just couldn’t. Thankfully people were respectful and just let me have my space.
After I finished, I went back to my hotel to get cleaned up for my last planned big night out. Dinner was at Quality Bistro, a stunning jewel box of a restaurant. I luxuriated on a blue banquette seat, sipped champagne, and watched the night progress. I overate and loved every minute of it.
One of the reasons I chose the restaurant was its proximity to the Hudson Theatre, where I had tickets to the newly opened Merrily We Roll Along (starring Daniel Radcliffe, Jonathon Groff, and Lindsey Mendez). It was an exciting night, and the crowd was buzzing.
Two thumbs up on the performance!
I walked all the way back to my hotel, enjoying the lights, sounds, and activities of the city. So many people worry about walking around New York at night, especially as a lone female. I never once felt unsafe in the city. It was glorious!
On my last day, I tried to squeeze in as much as I could (and as long as my energy held up!). I started at the Morgan Library This stunning place started as the private library for Pierpont Morgan, the incredibly successful financier that helped shape New York. After his death, his librarian Belle da Costa Greene (read the book, The Personal Librarian. You will not be disappointed!), helped transform it into a public institution we all can now enjoy. If you like books, history, or art, do not miss this place.
The Morgan Library houses a vast collection of manuscripts, books, documents, and art. I actually found a new artist there with whom I am now obsessed: Ferdinand Hodler. This Swiss artist was prolific in the 19th century, and the Morgan had an exhibit that showcased many drawings. I was drawn to his paintings of women, which showed both their beauty and strength equally. I am on the hunt for a print of one of them in particular, the “Study for Joyful Woman.” I am trying to track down a copy of it for my home!
The exhibition also showed some pieces from a series he did on the illness and death of his mistress. These haunting works really brought back my months of watching Rich fade away. I was very moved. You can see a video about the exhibit here.
After the Morgan, I went to the High Line, another NYC institution that I had never previously visited. Thanks to the drizzly weather, it wasn’t very crowded, which made it a lot easier to enjoy all the amazing artwork and the spectacular views of the city and its architecture. I got off at the Chelsea Market food hall to grab a quick lunch. I did not anticipate that it would be so vast, and varied. It was a visual feast as well as a tempting culinary one. I grabbed a spot at the very pretty bar at Corkbuzz, where I enjoyed a wine flight with some olives and jambon croquettes. Delish!
Thus fortified, I headed back up to the Highline and went in the opposite direction. One of the things I did on this trip that probably wouldn’t have worked had I been with companions: I only looked to one side of the high line on my way down, and then the other on the way back. I know that probably sounds peculiar, but it allowed me to focus better on everything around me, without missing something on one side by crisis crossing to the other.
My NYC time was quickly coming to an end. I debated going out for dinner, but I just couldn’t be bothered. Instead, I just pressed the up button in the hotel elevator and went to the rooftop.
Top of the Strand comes up on many lists of top rooftop view bars in New York, and no wonder. I had been meaning to check it out for my whole visit, and I am so glad I finally did. The Empire State Building was RIGHT THERE! I soaked it all in while I enjoyed my final cocktail and charcuterie board before calling it a night.
I had planned to take the subway and Airtrain back to the airport for my return flight, but I was just wiped. So I asked the desk to hire a car for me instead, which was such a great end to a trip that was truly all about me.
I can’t wait to do another solo adventure! I know not everyone likes the idea of traveling without companions. The bike tour through Central Park was really the first time I talked with other visitors about it. I found the varied reactions fascinating. Some were baffled: why would I go alone? Wasn’t I lonely? Afraid? Some were delighted and even envious. A few people seemed to get a longing gleam in their eyes, especially when I said I got to do what I wanted when I wanted, and for however long I wanted. If something was boring me, I would move on. If I wanted a detour, I took it. If I wanted to hang out longer, what was stopping me? Throughout the trip, I reveled in those moments and was grateful I didn’t need to consult anyone else’s wishes.
Don’t get me wrong: I want to travel with other people. In fact, the next three trips I have planned are not solo. And I would like to go back to New York, either with friends or by myself. But I like exploring on my own. It helps me realize how interesting I really am, and how much I don’t need to be in a couple. I think that realization will make me a better partner if I ever take that step again.
But for now, I am working on a 2024 travel mood board. I am ready to do a solo international trip, but I haven’t figured out where yet. I also want to do a road trip this summer. I remember fondly that trip decades ago driving cross country with just a tape deck to keep me company.
This trip, I have so many new memories. Please enjoy this last slideshow, featuring some of the stunning street art and architecture of NYC.
Enjoying Another Slice
My body was chatting at me after my trek the previous day. Evidently, my 56-year-old, out-of-shape legs did not enjoy the Tip to Tip adventure. No rest for the weary, however: I had a bike to ride!
I started out my day with breakfast at Zucker’s by Bryant Park. My first NYC bagel of the trip (new trip cuisine: Jewish!), but nowhere near my last! Went with one of my standards: an everything with scallions cream cheese. Yum.
Sufficiently fueled, I headed uptown for a Central Park bike tour with Unlimited Biking. I was not the only solo cyclist in my group, but I WAS the only solo traveler. People volunteered throughout the tour to make sure I had pictures of myself, which was just grand. I honestly think I am in more pictures on this trip than in the ones I take with other people!
The tour was fun and quick, and while it had a few tough hills, it was a great break for my tender toes. Again, I would heartily recommend this tour, and this company!
Afterward, I had originally planned to grab a hot dog in the park, but I wasn’t feeling it, so I took off on a wander. I had an afternoon to kill, before some very fun evening plans. I decided to indulge my reality TV inner fan and headed towards the garment district. On the way, I tried my third culture/cuisine of the trip, with stupendous tacos at Los Tacos No. 1, the Times Square location.
Worth the wait!
As an avid Project Runway fan, I have always wanted to go to Mood Fabrics. It was even more amazing than I anticipated!
I am by no means a seamstress, but wandering through the aisles on all the levels of this place made me want to pick up a needle (well, almost). I had decided in advance that this was where I would get my souvenir for the trip: I wanted to pick out fabric for curtains for my office. Since I figured I would be taking them, I needed something lightweight, almost but not quite sheer, that didn’t fray too much on the neds (I will basically be hanging it with clip-on curtain rings, and don’t intend to put any trim or edging on). I settled on a gorgeous, deep red lining material. I haven’t gotten it up yet, but when I do, it will be an everyday, practical reminder of this expedition!
Next up: Kleinfeld! If you’ve ever watched Say Yes to the Dress, you know why I had to visit. I didn’t have an appointment, and they were filming, so I couldn’t go into the salon, but I could peek in, and go downstairs to the accessories and alterations area. Just like Mood, the place was bigger and more breathtaking than I had imagined from the TV shows!
I headed back to my hotel to get ready for a very fun night out. Dinner reservations were at Il Buco Alimentari, a darling little Italian joint.
I was seated near the kitchen at a fun bar where I was served by the amazing Justus. I mentioned in my previous post how eating at the bar is a great call for solo travelers. If you are uneasy about eating alone, the bar is perfect, because you instantly have a dinner companion: the bartender. Justus was so fun and chatty! He told me about how Martha Stewart had eaten in the spot next to me just days prior, and about Taylor Swift’s dinner there a few days before that. Evidently, she arrived with Zore Kravitz and Laura Dern, and a few bodyguards. If you go on the website, you’ll see a picture of a cozy banquette-type table. just down a flight of stairs. That’s where they sat. Taylor told Justus to just order one of everything on the menu. He confessed that, as an avid fangirl, he felt awful suggesting that was too much food. She just let him decide. Then when Laura Dern tried to pick up the tab, the bodyguard shook his head: Taylor had already taken care of it.
My Swiftie friends back home kinda freaked out when I told them this story.
After dinner, I was off to the theater! Everyone knows NYC is the home of Broadway, so seeing a couple of shows was definitely on my docket. First up was the MUST SEE off-Broadway production of Titanique. This hilarious show is a loose retelling of the movie Titanic but from Celine Dion’s over-the-top view point. When I told local New Yorkers that I was going they all lit up and said it was the best thing in town (and seemed frankly surprised that a middle-aged Minnesota mom would be so hip as to go, which I found amusing). I laughed so hard I wept — and the singing was phenomenal. Go. Immediately.
After the show, I headed to Minetta Tavern. The place was jam-packed, which was fine because frankly, I wasn’t really hungry. But this was a place on my list for great burgers and cocktails, so I waited. While I did, I chatted with locals and had a ball. The place seemed chic, vibrant, and old-school classic all at the same time. And the food (and drinks!) did not disappoint.
Saturday was a rainy day, but that was fine. I had planned this to be a museum day, so I was going to be inside anyway. I quickly learned that New Yorkers absolutely throng to museums on rainy days (and especially weekends!).
I was glad I had made my reservations in advance.
I started the day at the Museum of Modern Art, where I had never been before – and was absolutely wowed. My before hours tour with an art expert was done through Get Your Guide tours. Our little group got to wander the vacant museum before the crowds descended, which allowed access to some of the most amazing pieces of art in the world.
After the tour ended, I explored the rest of the museum before it was time to get lunch. I found a great Thai restaurant, Thai @ Lex, thus extending my “new cuisine a day” goal. It was only about 4 tables, which was just lovely on a drizzly gray day.
The scrumptious curried beef and noodles didn’t hurt either!
Fortified, I headed to my next tour at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I have been to the Met before but thought it might be fun to have a guide this time. Once again, I booked a Get Your Guide tour: the best of the Met. I had a little glitch, as I arrived on time for my tour, but did not anticipate the very long line to get inside. I asked if there was a door for pre-paid tours, and was directed to another, far shorter line But that line was for museum members. I frantically called the tour company, hoping to reach someone on a Saturday. Thankfully the person at Get Your Guide was incredibly kind. She wasn’t able to contact the guide but assured me they would wait. I managed to get inside and found a group patiently waiting — and not just for me. They even said I had time to go check my very wet raincoat and umbrella. The guide was interesting, patient, and thoughtful. The Met is enormous, and there is just no way to see it all. But having a guide really helped. I 100% recommend using this company!
When I was planning this trip, I had planned to go upscale barhopping after the museums, catching the sunset and city views while enjoying fancy drinks and apps. But the rain had put a damper on that (pun intended). Instead, when I got off the subway near my hotel, I ran a few errands. First stop: a liquor store for a bottle of red. Second: a neighborhood bodega for a pint of very chocolatey ice cream. Back at the hotel, I asked who they recommended for pizza, and wasn’t surprised when they suggested Joe’s (which was on my list!). My pie arrived quickly, and I hustled it upstairs. After a quick wardrobe change into pjs, I enjoyed my fabulous girl dinner with a side of Netflix. Happy mama!
Stay tuned for the last post on my trip!
Not Enough Candles
I know a lot of people don’t like birthdays, mainly because they don’t like to think about getting older. My comeback was always “it’s better than the alternative.”
Well, this year, I got older, while Rich did not.
And yes: we have (had?) the same birthday. April 14, two years apart. And, since we met in 1986, my first year of college, this year was the first year I didn’t have him as my birthday twin.
Our first shared birthday was humbling for me. In my family, birthdays were always a big deal. The birthday person was feted with presents, cake, and a dinner at a restaurant of their choosing (I pretty much always picked fancy places. I was into all the new stuff even as a teenager.). I had a party for my birthday every year until I arrived at college.
My parents and brother drove to see me at school, and I felt as special as I always did — until they dropped me off and headed back home. You see, I turned 19. But Rich was turning 21.
Let’s just say 21 trumps 19 in college, and I was basically unnoticed. I was most displeased, but tried to suck it up. Rich’s roommates had a plan: they took him around to every apartment in our off campus housing complex, knocking on the door and playing a sort of college trick or treat: they asked the resident of each apartment to “donate” a shot of something alcoholic. Since most of us were under age, pickings were slim, varied, and, ultimately, not pleasant. To make things worse, they refused to let Rich walk at all, carrying him from one boozy pit stop to the next.
Flash forward a few hours, when Rich is passed out in his bedroom. We had the smarts to keep an eye on him, and I volunteered for my shift of sitting with him, making sure he didn’t well, die in his sleep. For me this was more than a babysitting gig, though. It was my chance.
I had been dating someone else for several years at this point, but I was totally crushing on Rich. But of course I could never admit it! But, when he was fast asleep? I fessed up, letting him know that I was into him, and kissed him.
The next morning, we were all gathered in the dining commons, laughing about the night before. In the middle of breakfast, in strolls Rich, more chipper than the rest of us. In fact, he had just come back from a run. While he professed to feeling fine, he didn’t seem to remember everything about the night before, much to my relief, and so my secret was safe.
A few years later, when the other guy was out of my life and Rich and I finally got together, I revealed what I had done on his birthday. He grinned, and from then on always insisted “that mut have been why I slept so well.” I mean, we both new it was more likely demon alcohol, but the story became a part of our lore.
So, our first birthday together was our first kiss.
We shared a lot of special birthday celebrations over the years. On my 21st, he took me out at 1201am for my first legal drink (a vodka martini. A very poor choice). We celebrated in California before he moved to the midwest, graduating a year before me.
Over the years we celebrated in Ohio, back in California, in Minnesota, and back to Ohio, and back to Minnesota again.
For his 40th, I hosted a surprise party, which stressed him out completely, as I had invited both work colleagues and social friends. He remarked that he didn’t like seeing his worlds collide. It was fun though for folks to see different sides of him — the coworkers learning that his neighborhood buddies thought he was the life of the party. The neighborhood friends were shocked to know of Rich’s serious side. I delighted in his feigned discomfort.
For my 40th, he tried to surprise me with a trip to Vegas with our friends. It was the first of many for what would become known as the Unicorn Squad. I say he tried to surprise me because I actually figured it out in advance, but I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to spoil his fun! He worked so hard — arranged child care, hotels, flights, dinners, shows. This time, I was the star (I even got to wear a crown!).
Because we had the same bday, I realized we could actually have a 100th birthday party the year I turned 49 and he became 51. We booked a venue, hired a caterer, and invited everyone. Frankie and her friends provided the music, and we danced and laughed and partied our butts off.
A few months later, on our anniversary, he handed me a card with a special message in it: we were going to Pars for my 50th. He knew I had always had a silly fantasy of dancing on the Champs Elysee on my birthday, and he wanted it to come true. He also knew that for me planning a trip was half the fun, so he decided he was better off letting me handle that. I agreed, but said he was in charge of planning our actual birthday celebration.
We did so much, and had such a magical time.
On our actual birthday, he booked us a table at one of the most famous restaurants in Paris, with a view of Notre Dame (I blogged about this trip. The one that talks about our actual birthday and dinner can be found here.)
Little did we know that the cathedral would catch fire a year and one day later. We watched it burn on tv, crying, holding hands. I thanked him so much for the trip, and for having the chance to be there with him.
That was 2019.
In 2020, we were in quarantine.
In 2021, we went to dinner at the restaurant that had replaced the one we went to when he handed me the Paris card. The next month, his leg went numb.
In 2022, our friend Erika brought us cakes, and he blew out the candles while laying in bed, surrounded my me, Erika and his brother Frank. He died 6 months and 8 days later.
People used to say they thought it was s cute that we had the same birthday. It’s so easy they said, you’ll never forget! Early on in the relationship Rich offered to let me have all the rest of the birthdays, as he knew I was sometimes sour about sharing the spotlight.
I’d give anything to share it now.
So this year was hard. I knew it would be, and I wasn’t wrong. The week leading up to the 14th was probably the hardest I’ve had since he died. I cried every day. But now it is over, and I survived. I made sure I did fun thigs, and spoiled myself a bit. Not sure what I will do next year. Maybe I will travel somewhere new, or maybe I’ll host a party. But whatever I do, I know that Rich will approve — as long as I get to be the star!
Aloha Means Goodbye and Hello
Many years ago, I took my first solo trip.
Rich and I had broken up, and I was leaving Ohio to return back to California. I planned that trip with enthusiasm: I wanted to see the country, and refused to drive once the sun went down, as I didn’t want to miss anything. I wanted to see route 66, a corner in Winslow Arizona, Carhenge at the Cadillac Ranch, and Las Vegas. By the end of the trip, I declared “every year I will take a trip all by myself!”
Well, it took me 30 years, but I finally took another one.
In January I took what I called my “widow trip.” This was to be my first adventure without Rich, a journey of rest and relaxation, reflection and rejuvenation, renewal and resolution and refocus. I had been to Hawaii many times, but this was the first return trip to Maui since our honeymoon more than 28 years ago. I was determined to make the most of it. When you trave with others, you often skip things you want to do , as you balance each other’s choices. But as a solo traveler, I was determined to do what I wanted, when I wanted. And I did.
As I mentioned, Rich and I honeymooned on Maui. But I didn’t want to retrace our steps. While I planned to honor us, I also needed to make new memories. So my first choice was where to stay, and I chose the Wailea Beach Beach Resort. I had never spent time in this part of the island, so there were no memories there. My first full day I wandered along the beach walk (I did that daily, and would recommend it highly), and hung by the pool before an early dinner at the Lahaina Grill, reportedly the best restaurant in Maui. Dinner did not disappoint. In fact, I was a little leery before I arrived, as the website really didn’t lead with the best picture. But it was a beautiful restaurant, and the staff was as warm and welcoming as the food was delicious!
I mentioned an early dinner, and there was a reason for that (besides jet lag). At 230am the next morning, I boarded a shuttle to the top of Haleakala to watch the sunrise over the volcano.
The bus ride to the summit was pretty quiet, given the early hour, and uneventful because, well, it was dark. And at the top it was quite cold, so we were bundled up for our long wait. I think we were there a good 2 hours before there was a hint of sun, but it was okay because the night sky was stunning. This was an experience I had always asked others to try with me, but I was actually glad to be doing it alone. No need for chit chat: I could be alone with my thoughts. Granted, I was hardly alone on the volcano, as there were hundreds of folks up there…
… but I secured a spot on a rock with a clear view, and hunkered down.
Watching the horizon for glimmers of light was easy fodder for this symbolism-hungry former English major. It’s easy to see the story in this scene. The more I stared, the more I was sure I had seen some light, but then I wasn’t really sure if I had. Had I just been hoping for the sun? Or was it really coming? It reminded me so much of my current journey. I mean, I knew that of course the sun would come, and I would be warm and comforted by the colors and light. But sometimes, you doubt whether things will really get better. But as sure as the sun went down the night before, it rose that morning.
We headed back to the bus, tired and exhilarated. I know I was not the only one who whispered messages or prayers up on that volcano. In fact, the Hawaiians sang a song of prayer as the sun came up, You can hear an example of it here. It really was magical, and a reminder to the tourists that we were privileged to be there. The last bit of the journey that morning wasn’t spiritual, but it was fulfilling: breakfast! The folks at Valley Isle Excursions hooked us up: macadamia nut pancakes at the Maui Tropical Plantation!
I knew I’d be pretty wiped, so when I returned to the hotel I changed then headed back down the beach walk to the Willow Stream Spa at the Fairmont. I spent several blissful hours there, followed by a cocktail at the bar. After wandering back down the magical beach path, I had an early dinner at the poolside bar back at the Marriott, then crashed, content with a day filled with nourishment for my body and soul. But this was just the beginning of my magical trip.
My next day was also destined to be memorable, for very different reasons. I started with whale watching, which is something every Hawaiian visitor should have on their bucket list,. January is prime whale season, as the mamas and babies are all over. I had already been blessed with sightings. The night before, while wandering around at sunset, I gleefully cried out when I saw one breach ff shore (breaching is when they do that awesome full body leap and crash out of the water). I laughed at myself and sheepishly glanced around, only to find that everyone else was either freaking the same way, or wistfully wishing they had seen it. I thought that would be my highlight, and I felt fulfilled. When I boarded the charter the next morning, I was cautiously optimistic, but figured if I even saw one or two I’d be sated.
When I boarded the boat at Ultimate Whale Watch and Snorkel, I met Captain Emma and First Mate Lexie. These dynamic women were part of a trend for this trip: strong, powerful women helping me realize my own strength. They filled us in on the plan, and told us to be patient. We did not need to be. It took very little time for us to come upon whales — but Emma kept saying “that’s not our whale.” No one knew quite what she meant, until we met Shania.
Shania Twain was playing on the radio when we spotted her all white fluke, so rare that Emma and Lexie were excited. You now you are experiencing something special when the “experts” are giddy. Shania flirted a bit, then breached! We were so tickled! She would roll and wave her fins, then dive down, then, she breached again!
And again.
And again.
Emma told us, as she picked her jaw up off the floor, that the human equivalent of a whale breach, in terms of caloric expenditure, is like running a marathon. So for a whale to do it that many times in succession was really wild. But it got wilder. We wondered if she would go for double digits. She did. Twice. By the time we had to go back to shore, she had breached about 24 times! She was so predictable, that we had time to even plan for “whalefies,” pics with her breaching in the background!
At one point I cried a little, just from the sheer beauty of it all.
I also was thinking about Rich, and how much he would have loved this. When we docked, I made sure I was the last to leave the boat, so I could thank Emma and Lexie. I told them about my widow trip, and that I was doing new things on my own to prove to myself that I could, and that I would be okay. I also told them about Rich, and how he had been a marathon runner, and that I thought of him with every breach. I swear he sent us that whale. He sent me Sania to tell me over and over that he knew I could do it. That I would be ok, and that he would send me whatever help I needed. We all wept a little at that, as hokey as it sounded.
But I walked away feeling so incredibly full of heart, ready to take on the rest of the day.
I wandered around a bit before heading off to find a place for lunch. I had something big on my schedule for the end of the day, an I needed sustenance — and a cocktail. I found a spot at the bar at Monkeypod, a well-known local chain.
After another walk about, I pointed my Turo rental north (first time trying Turo — great experience!). My destination was the Hyatt Regncy in Ka’anapali, where Rich and I stayed on our honeymoon. This was going to be challenging, I knew.
Walking into the lobby it all flooded back — the exhaustion and giddiness upon arrival, taking in the soaring indoor/outdoor lobby, and my eyes wandered upwards, trying to remember which room had been ours. I remember that lobby was were Rich would sneak down every morning to check for faxes from work (remember those, pre-cell phone?), and every morning I pretended I didn’t know. I wandered the grounds to try and find some of the places we had taken pictures, and even reenacted a few. I watched the penguins, the swans, and all the other birds. The hubbub around the pool seemed like it was happening in another world. I was in a grief bubble, for sure, and I knew it was going to be harder still.
I wandered down to the beach, and flashed back on watching him slowly swimming back and forth off shore. He loved doing that. He so loved the ocean. And since I wanted him to be forever in the places that brought us both joy, I had brought some of his ashes.
I found a remarkably empty little beach, and sat down. When I was cleaning out his things back home, I found shell necklaces that we received on our honeymoon, and I put those on. I wrapped myself in the sarong I somehow still had from that trip, and I cried. I remembered everything wonderful about that trip — even his inevitable sunburn when he refused sunscreen. I laughed a little, and smiled. I waded out into the water, and let him go. I could immediately feel some peace, knowing that at east a part of him would forever be in that beautiful place.
I dried my eyes and made my way back to my car. Windows down, music blasting, the Hawaiian wind drying my tears. And then, offshore, a whale breached.
Thank you, Rich. I love you.
I Do New: January edition
I had two New Year’s Resolutions this year. One was to write in my blog twice a month (I’m behind on that. I’ll do three for February to catch up!). The second was to do something new every week. So here is what I did in January!
Traveled solo: while I have done a few travel adventures on my own, they were either really small or a long time ago. You may recall I packed up Stevie Nicks (my doggo) and headed to a cabin shortly after Rich died. That was pretty solo, in that I was in charge of planning and executing all on my lonesome, but it really wasn’t a big deal. The first time I travelled by myself was decades ago. Rich and I had been living together in Ohio, and things just weren’t working out. So we broke up to save our relationship (I know, sounds odd, but it clearly worked). I packed up all my stuff in my Geo Prizm and drove cross country, touristing on my own terms along the way. When I finished that journey, I made myself a promise I would travel solo every year. Yeah that didn’t happen. But a few months ago, there was a sudden miles sale to Hawaii, and it was too gid to pass up. So In January I took myself to Maui for a week. I will blog more about that trip at another date, but I definitely wanted to start my “new” checklist with this one!
Whale watching: that happened on the Maui trip, of course (not too many whales in Minnesota, especially in January). A stunning, moving day full of laughter and a couple tears.
Fancy dinner all by myself: I have been my own dinner date before. Usually I bring a book and the meal is bookended with shopping or a movie. But on the Maui trip, almost every meal was by solo. I made a huge effort to keep the phone in my purse, and just soak in the experience. The first dinner out was the game changer, as I went to the “best restaurant in Hawaii,” according to many forums, the Lahaina Grill. I dressed up, ordered what I wanted and people watched, making up stories about all the other guests in the restaurant. People don’t really notice you when you are a middle aged woman hanging solo, which in this case was a great thing, lol.
Sunrise on a volcano: I have been to Hawaii several times, and have always thought it would be cool to watch the sun rise over the crater of a volcano. But every other trip I had people with me, and no one ever wanted to get up at the butt crack of night (my shuttle picked me up at 230 in the morning!). So this was my chance, and I took it. I am still sifting through all my pictures, trying to find the best ones to share. That will be part of the Maui blog post. For now, though, I’ll just say that between the sparkling white stars in the purple sky, to the firey oranges and yellows of the wakening sun, it was magical.
Make new friends: on a snorkeling adventure, I sat next to two women who I am now friends with. They were on a girls trip celebrating ther 40th birthdays (babies!). Jodi and Kelsey were from the San Francisco Bay Area, which is where I grew up, so we connected immediately. Next thing I knew they invited me to join them at a luau the next night, and we had dinner together again the following night. We are now friends on social media, and I am looking forward to connecting with them again in the future!
Whelping: I have wanted to whelp FOREVER but Rich always put his foot down. Well, here I go! If you follow me on TikTok you have met Millie, the 100 pound Newfoundland mama that birthed 10 puppies at my house January 22nd. Every day with them is new, and exciting. I love it!
I challenge you to do something new, too, and let me know what it was! Even if it’s just once a month — a new food, a new skill, a new location. Whatever it is, do it! We all need to grow!
A New Chapter
The last time I wrote in this blog, I was married to the love of my life.
Now, I am a widow.
I still wear a ring, but he doesn’t.
My life is a new marriage of sorts. I must weave the before with the after. I sit at his desk, in what was previously his office, dividing my time between reconciling the past and preparing for the future. Simultaneously I must settle his affairs while making sure my own are ready for future days. I spend a little bit of time every day working through legal documents, finagling various types of insurance, and preparing for taxes. I am the chief cook and bottle washer now.
This blog will probably have a haphazard appearance (not that it was very ordered before, TBH), as I strive to cover a varied terrain.
I will write about the last vacation we took before we knew he was sick and talk about my own solo travels. As I write this, I have just arrived from a one week beach vacation where I mourned and healed. In fact, I have several trips coming up this year. Last year we had but one: our last Vegas adventure. I’ll have to write about that, too, I guess. I have a lot of leg stretching to catch up on this year.
I will blog about his celebration of life party, and about the hell of watching someone die by degrees. Of watching the man who used to hold you up become the one you must support. I went from being a friend and a lover to a nursemaid. It sucked, but I am not alone. In fact, I now have 90-some thousand new friends walking my widow journey with me. I decided before he died that I would need a way to keep myself accountable. So I created a TikTok grief journal, and every day I post something. Some days are decidedly more interesting than others. Some posts show me drowning in grief, while others show me making new strokes forward in the ocean of possibilities. I’d love to have you follow me, and help me stay the course!
We’ve all heard that the first year is the hardest, although now I’ve been told it is actually harder in year 2, when the new loss becomes the new normal. But I need to get through year one first, one post at a time.
Grieving is something that takes place on a sliding scale. For me, that process really started October 1, 2021, when we first heard the words “You have ALS.” I can still remember everything about that. I dropped him of at the entry to the University of Minnesota Neurology department, and watched him limp inside, leaning heavily on his late father’s walking stick. I parked the car, then found him. Our roles had already changed. In the waiting room we were both casually terrified, trying not to look outwardly concerned. I think he was more worried than I was, which makes sense. I think he already knew the diagnosis. I was living on edge in the dark, impatiently waiting for someone to tell us he did NOT have that hideous disease, .
Once in the exam room, the doctor had clearly read through the myriad reports from other doctors, and had analyzed the test results. Rich sat on the exam table, while the doctor checked his reflexes. It seemed to take him less than a minute to declare Rich’s death sentence, but I am sure it was longer than that. I was sitting in the spare chair they always have in an exam room. I know it was just maybe 5 feet away, but the doctor’s words sucked all the air out of the room and I felt as unsteady on my feet as Rich had been for months when I lurched up and crossed to the exam table. I put my hand n his shoulder, but that wasn’t enough. I needed more. I pressed up against him, and clutched his leg, trying not to hold too tightly or breathe too loudly. In the few steps it took me to cross that increasingly claustrophobic room, I had a million conversations with myself. I transitioned from panic and sorrow to determination and caring, because that was now my job. I needed to be what he needed, whatever that was, and my own needs had to be put aside.
Now it is time, once again, to tend to my needs.
Slowly, the world we built for two has become a universe of one.
I still make the king sized bed, but only have to wash the pillowcases on one side.
His clothes, now donated, are hopefully bringing someone else a smidge of the confidence he had, and I have started spreading out in the closet, reorganizing my things to suit my new lifestyle.
When Rich was first diagnosed, we had two cars in the garage. Then three, when our daughter came home home for one last summer with her dad. Then two, when we sold his car. Then three again when we bought the wheelchair van. Then two, when she went to school. Then one, when I sold the van. My car now also lives alone.
It seems every week I rearrange a drawer or a closet. I feel like I am marking my territory, by making things work in my new normal. It is also a way of visiting with him on a small scale, as I run across something of his, whether it is a business card or a pair of swim goggles or a tool he never put away in the right place. I fear, and hope, it will be a long time before the last item is discovered. Like an archeologist, I will be unearthing bits of his life for years to come.
And every day, I unearth a bit more of my life. My new life. My widowed life. My rebuilding life. My strong, sad, capable, terrified, hopeful life.
I can do this. With the continued support and help from all of you, I will do this.
A little Ado About Everything 