I would like to thank the generous offer of 500 free Wi-Fi minutes from Oceania Cruise Lines.  They read my TravelBlogs with photos and wanted me to be able to continue writing them from their ship.  I thank them.

I also want to thank Frosch Classic Cruises and Travel for offering me a gift of free Wi-Fi minutes to continue my writing and posting as well.

Did you know that when monks pee, it is forbidden among so many other things to make a peeing sound? They must sit and angle in just the right way.  We are traveling with our dear friends, Drs. D and A “P”, one who is my beloved confidant and one who is my beloved Urologist! He says that for a man to sit it is harder, very much harder for him to clear the bladder. I think the next donation to the monks should be truckloads of Cipro, or perhaps catheters. Catheters are silent.  I do not mean to cast any disparaging remarks on anyone’s chosen path, just informing you.

It is raining; the sun is trying to peer through the clouds leaving a long tail across the sea, and the pathway it portrays is heading straight for me. There is a meaning here, a path always suggests a direction. A path is a new start. A path is a suggestion. A path is a choice.

WHERE ARE WE?

How many of you do well in high degrees of heat and equal amounts of humidity?  Raise your hands.  Traveling in weather conditions other than perfect is hard, harder still when the distances you have to travel in these conditions are far, far away.  We are docked at the pier, which is a distance from Bangkok proper, which is of course not ideal. We had to travel nearly an hour by shuttle to go to the entrance to a large lovely mall, only to take a taxi to our chosen destination. Our chosen direction is the big weekend market way across town. It is so large that it can take all day to see everything. We enjoyed much of the market until the heat and the exhaustion took over. I am happy to share some photos of the nicest people on earth. Thai people have been so friendly, helpful and kind. Every time I asked to take a picture, everyone responded with a yes and posed.  They were happy to share themselves with the camera and with me.

Look at them, they are beautiful and you can just see their souls oozing from them onto the camera lens. Special sparkles were abundant in the heat of the day. I thank them for their ability to say yes and mean it.

Look it is really HOT here!! Proof!

The tour was about an hour late in getting started, which can throw off the spirits as they may or may not be.  In any case, I thought for sure there was a special blessing, a rite of passage or something lurking trapped in a time warp and would gladly spread its delight on me after centuries of waiting. Sure thing. All of the above is true, but a gentle and beautiful monk spread the graceful spirits of curative powers to Skip. He sprayed him with healing waters and you can see that he is tying the woven spirit of good luck to Skip’s wrist.  He could never, ever have tied anything to any part of me because a monk cannot touch a woman. So be it. It is true that the Health God is not Buddha, but in fact health is transferred from a monk to people of merit and need.

After the spiritual transfer we went to visit the mummified Monk. They say his hair keeps growing. Well, sort of. Here he is:

We continued on through Ko Samui to these sites:

The day was very special and I will always remember the sight and chanting sounds of a healthy spiritual transfer and the lovely quiet island of Ko Samui plus the privilege of being there at exactly the right time.

My brother Tommy from another mother wrote me after viewing my photos of modern Singapore of his observations of Singapore in the late 40’s.  He said at the time he was here, the tallest building was only three stories and when he saw the photos of the ultra modern city he was amazed at the transformation.  I asked a local lady how Singapore gets the enormous amount of money it must take to build the city that is  continuously involved in constant construction and maintenance. She said it comes from foreign investors.  Anyone interested in a good business tip, here it is.  Plus you need to know there is no unemployment or homelessness here according to our verbose Taxi Man!

Our taxi driver to the ship was so informative. He said that they have built casinos in Singapore and the tourist trade has soared 30%. He also said that if Singaporeans want to go to the casino it is a one hundred dollar fee, but free to tourist guests. They do not want their citizens gambling.  Also, if you are caught littering, the first time you are fined $150.00 plus sent to counseling and the second time $300.00 plus sent to counseling. On the third time, if there should be a third time, you are fined $500.00 plus you are put to work scrubbing the streets. The ethic of a clean city it is not just the fear of the money fine, the counseling or the scrubbing the streets, I think it is pride and a genuine caring about the look of their beautiful city that keeps everyone from littering and ruining such an important tradition which is known and  envied around the world.

The governing officials in Singapore make huge salaries, so it was just decided that they would take a 40% cut in salary. The Prime Minister makes over 4 million a year.  He can still get along with a 40% cut. Don’t feel sorry for him; don’t feel sorry for other officials, they will do just fine.

Our hotel offered an 8-person dinner with all the trimmings for only $7,000. Skip and I got a kick out of the price. We ate Mandarin Oranges and power bars in the room.  Actually our lunch was $122.00, so we economized for dinner. But you saw the photos and the view, well worth the $$$.

Remember I mentioned The Marina Bay Sands Roof Top Garden that spans from one tower to the other and you can see that it cantilevers over the third tower? I said it boasts about being the largest roof top garden in the world? During the night I realized I had to see this from the top.  We made reservations for lunch at Sky 57. If you do not have reservations and are not a guest, you probably would not be allowed to take the elevators to the 57^th floor.  The lunch was an Asian/French Fusion including lobster, noodles, knuckles, tendons, ribs, rice and condiments. I enjoyed squirting lime on everything. Yum. But, the lunch is not the issue at hand; it was the views of Singapore.  So, here is Singapore and doesn’t she look gorgeous?

Here are two views of the three towers and the rooftop gardens. See how the end extends over the third tower.

Now see what’s on top and what people are doing to enjoy the gardens and infinity pool.

Now we have views from our luncheon table and the walk around the restaurant:

Where’s Dave ?

Singapore is a tourist’s delight, an architectural splendor and a shopping mecca. Come and be wowed.

Here is The Marina Bay Sands Roof Top Garden that spans from one tower to the other and you can see that it cantilevers over the third tower. It boasts about being the largest roof top garden in the world.

The National Flower of Singapore is an Orchid called: Vanda Miss Joaquim. It was discovered growing wild by Miss Agnes Joaquim in her garden in 1893.  How do we know this? We visited the Singapore Botanic Gardens this warm and muggy afternoon.  Many orchids do grow wild, so why is it nearly impossible to grow them myself? I have a green thumb.  Hey, Jodi, they have red bamboo growing in the gardens. Wouldn’t a couple of red stalks look great with your pot of bamboo?

Taste treat: The Mandarin Orange. It is most delicious and I we have eaten a dozen or so each . I have spit out and saved all of the seeds. Wouldn’t it be grand to grow a fruit- bearing tree from a least one of these 50 or more seeds?  I know about grafting and how you have to graft a fruit-baring branch onto the seedling to have fruit. It is true. I will have to find someone with a Mandarin Tree.  Do you now of such a tree growing in Southern California?

You really have to be in awe of this gorgeous gracious city full of people, places and things, with no trash and or graffiti. The streets are clean or if not cleaner than your kitchen floor and even the freeway railings are polished. Their entire freeway is spotless. How about that? I heard, if you drop papers, you get your hand cut off. Well, maybe not that harsh, but a big fine and jail time. They are not kidding here.  We did see a woman standing off to the side, smoking. We actually stopped and watched drag after drag until she finished her cigarette. We made bets, and you guessed it, she dropped it to the ground and stepped on it, leaving it there for someone else to pick up. Imagine that. I had all I could do not to go up and reprimand her.  Does she know we spent 26 grueling and torturous hours on plane flights to get to Singapore the spotless city of the world and she just dissed our whole touristic attitude?  The “B” word to her.

Here are some lovely sights we visited around Singapore.

The City of Singapore is on Holiday for the next two days. It is the Chinese New Year of the Dragon.  The year of the Dragon is traditionally a prosperous one. Many of the stores are not open. Good thing because as usual I am over packed, so anything we buy goes into Skip’s suitcase and he really moans and groans over putting anything into his perfectly packed case. So, not to worry, I have an extra fold out and Delta lets you check 2 bags each free when you hit Medallion status. Will we or will we not have four checked bags? Don’t ask, you already know.

We visited a section of Singapore called, Little India.  Since Skip will not go to India, I had a little, very little taste of what it is all about.  I enjoyed being in the old part of the city, visiting India. All over Singapore new construction is the norm. Cranes and building materials are at sites across the city. This is such an industrious city, so colorful and basically has everything you could ever need and want. I fell badly that I do not know enough of Singapore’s history and of the infra-structure to tell you about the economics here, and who has and does what.

Next we walked in Chinatown. We felt like this was another reality of Singapore. There were hundreds of people watching a huge Dragon dance and twirl. After all of this excitement, we had to sit down and cool down. We found a place that looked lively and the food was beautifully abundant.  There were only two seats available, and we were invited in to sit down. As we looked around, we realize we are very different from the other diners. Remember, this is a special holiday; one of hope for prosperity and everyone is out at their very best. We also noticed that we sat there a very long time with no attention, not even a glance in our direction. It was like we were invisible. We finally stood up and started flapping our wings. That flapping surely did get the waitresses’ attention.  Then we realized, that the waitress does not speak English at all. Not even one word I am convinced. How we got the food on the table, I do not know. We noticed that people in the restaurant all ordered great quantities of food. They all left some.

Our beef and tofu soup and came out quite quickly once our order was taken. The resonances in the restaurant were sharp and foreign to our ears. The sounds triggered internal registers that we relished and appreciated. We thoroughly enjoyed being surrounded by authenticity and delighted in the purity of the cultural exchange.

Beautiful Singapore:

Construction everywhere:

My favorite building with many colored shutters.

A little section of the Raffles Hotel where The Singapore Sling was invented in the Long Bar around 1915.

If you have an opportunity to visit the Homeboy  Industries Facility at 130 Bruno Street in Los Angeles, California, you will have an enlightening and spiritual journey you will long remember. Our day was spent in awe. WE had lunch at the Homegirl Café. The food is delicious and generous. The Bakery is full of lovely pastries and luscious breads. If you happen to be there past 2:00 p.m. you will be able to buy two breads for the price of one. What a deal. In addition to the Homegirl Café and the Homeboy Bakery, there is silk screening and embroidery, merchandise made by members is sold on the premises and can be ordered; an active component is their Homegrown mini farm that not only helps supply the dining facility, but is sold in Farmer’s Markets at many locations in Los Angeles.

All of Homeboy Industries is funded purely on donations and not only the services you see are available to give people at risk a second chance, they are also offered, temporary housing, urgent medical, mental health and dental care, child care, emergency car repairs, bus and train tokens and vouchers, tattoo removal, food and clothing for job interviews and to create a new image. Education is a strategic part of the recovery program. Academic classes in Life Skills, Substance Abuse, Support groups, Extracurricular classes and Work Readiness classes are offered everyday. Some are elective and some are mandatory. Another very important part of the work at Homeboy is job training and job referrals.

All and all the day spent at Homeboy Industries was enlightening and important! Donations are appreciated. Go for a visit. Eat lunch. Buy some bread and pastries and most of all talk with people in the facility. Better yet, if you know when you will be there, ask for a private tour. The people at Homeboy Industries are proud to share their accomplishments.

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 “MAMA LULA”

         February 13, 1903 – November 6, 1999

I am respectfully submitting the recipe for DIVINITY because not only is it the most delicious, melt in your mouth kind of candy, but it is also because divine providence brought the giver of this recipe into my life.  Lula McKissack hails originally from Hattiesburg, Mississippi where she grew up on a small farm. She was given to her aunt when she was nine years old by her mother because she was strong and could do the work her childless aunt needed done. She left her aunt’s home at sixteen, married Mr. McKissack, and had two boys, Tommy and Bobby. Soon after Bobby was born Lula left Mr. McKissack and the hard life she lived with him. She moved to Louisiana where she built her own home with the help of her boys.

Lula’s boys left home early to join the navy and Lula was left alone with little means of supporting herself.  One of her friends, Nola, found out about two jobs in Huntington Park, California. They both decided to come for the California jobs. Nola came first and since my Aunt Bessie and Uncle Harold owned a jewelry store and needed someone to help with their children, Nola took the first job with them.

When Lula came to California, she went to work with our family.  I was nine, nearly ten years old when Lula came to us and she stayed with my family for twenty-nine years.  I remember calling Lula after being married for two weeks, crying that the house was dirty and everything was a mess.  I had no idea where to begin.  She told me to begin in one corner of the room and circle around until I was in the middle and the job would be done.  She was right and now, I always know how and where to begin my jobs.

Lula added unconditional love, forgiveness and a deep spirituality to our home and family. She worked miracles in our home and even though she has passed on, she continues to work miracles with our family.  Her philosophies of life have been handed down to the next generation like nuggets of gold and her Divinity candy will satisfy your hunger many things.  It will calm your nerves as you pause to enjoy it.  You will feel empowered with all of Mama Lula’s sweet charity and goodness.

Lula’s Divinity Recipe

2 cups sugar

1/2 cup of light corn syrup

1/2 cup of hot water

1/4 teaspoon of salt

2 egg whites beaten stiff

1 teaspoon of vanilla

(Lula added 1/2 cup of chopped pecans)

In a 2-quart saucepan, combine sugar, corn syrup, hot water and salt.

Cook and stir until sugar dissolves. Bring mixture to a boil and cook to the hardball stage. (a little of the mixture is dropped in a cup of cold water and when it forms a little hard ball, it is ready)  Beat egg whites stiff. Pour hot syrup slowly over beaten egg whites, beating constantly at a high speed. Add vanilla and beat until mixture forms soft peaks.  Drop from a tablespoon onto waxed paper, lifting and twirling spoon to form a peak on top of each mound.

After working so hard to survive and live another day, to tell yet another story, is this chair and this position our eventual end my friend?    If we are lucky someone will wheel us down by such a beautiful natural wonder, but in actuality, I believe we will be housed in a dark corridor and there we will stay.  Our eyesight will be so dreadful we won’t even be able to recognize each other.  Our voices will have been stripped of all timber. So who will hear us when we utter our reverent hello?  If it is true that we are here by the ocean’s edge, I am glad you are next to me. I hope we do not run out of things to say to each other or stop enjoying the world as it was made and our dwindling meaning to be in it.  There are so many terrors now to face and I have noticed that since we were girls, dancing and singing out loud, there are more terrors the world is facing, ones that have escalated with time and ones that have been added with the passing of our time.  In listing some of the terrors, I find that the ones that have escalated are no less terrorizing, than the ones that have been added. The ones in my mind that have been added are ones with inevitable ends. I find that my friend base is dwindling and new voices are quietly comforting, but fleeting in momentary time. You who will be sitting next to me, and I you, in the future, hello and thank you for your consoling familiarity as we face the end of our moments together.

We have given to the world our best positions and opinions and the best knowledge we have acquired, investigated and analyzed to be used at their discretion. Now, we sit and wait.

Now, please join me on my journey down memory lane.

First, we drove to Huntington Park from our home in the San Fernando Valley over the hill from Los Angeles.

Los Angeles

As you continue on the 101 Freeway, your off ramp is Soto Street. Continue on Soto Street and you will see the old Sears building. You are heading in the right direction (south)

Soon you will be approaching Farmer John’s located in Vernon just north of Huntington Park at Farmer John
3049 E. Vernon Avenue Vernon, CA 90058.  As you will see from the photos, there is a mural painted on the exterior of the Farmer John’s slaughterhouse and meat packing plant. This mural has been here since 1957 when Les Grimes began his work here. Since 2000, extensive restorations have been made. The animals have changed a bit from time to time as each new artist lends his or her hand to the work. This mural will certainly get your attention and I have photographed small portions of it for you to see.

Next as you travel down Soto Street, you will soon see the Huntington Park Water tower. I was fascinated with this tower most of my Huntington Park life. It is a symbol of leaving and of coming home.

So, now that we are in Huntington Park, where to go first is the question. Actually, it is not a question; you go home. The house where I used to call home is as beautiful as it was years ago, only it is not home. Memories of my room with its window off to the right hand side of the house, second level and the sights I used to see from it come flooding back. I saw all the neighbors walking by. I saw the Jacaranda tree in full bloom and watched as it transitioned into a purple carpet of fallen blossoms. I loved that tree and now it is gone. My mother had roses lining the walkway to the front door and now there are roses lining the entire yard. Some of the old bushes are still there, but gone are the Camellia bushes. My mother would send bushels of Camellias to my teachers and I was popular on Camellia day.

The little window top right of the house is my bedroom window, my window on the world..

Gone, in reality, are Mom, Dad, Lula, Michael, Ron,  Clarke, John, Carolyn, Anita, Allegra, Helga, Johnny  Wake, and all the other people I remember in reality, but they are still there in my mind, so fresh, that I can see the spittle as they smile and the snot coming out of their noses, the pretty faces, long hair, their strength, their intelligence, and their bright eyes.  Gone is the Apricot and Fig tree. The building on the corner of California and Florence that was once the poultry farm and market is still there, but the squawking and the slaughtering and the poultry are gone. Again, what remains are memories. Once my brothers got a hold of a chicken foot and put it at the end of my bed.  To this day, I check the end of my bed to make sure there is nothing hidden there.

My Elementary school: State Street School

Next we drove down State Street to my elementary school where more than a million memories bombarded my senses. I remember buying 5 ice creams a day for lunch until they caught me and even after they caught me I tried to do it again.  I figured you got 25 cents a day for lunch a rather nasty lunch that smelled like the garbage can.  But you could wisely spend your 25 cents in an abundant way.  Each ice cream was a nickel and even though I did not excel in math, 25 cents bought 5 ice creams a much better deal than lunch. It was hard to stop me, but involving my parents did the trick. Where are you Abby Gratz, Sydney Michel, Sheryl Wriggle, Winnie Mae Miller, Gordon Outhier, Johnny Wilheilm, Terry Cunningham?

Here is the church where I was saved.  I was in the 3^rd grade and talked too much in class. The teacher got very angry, dug her nails into my arms and threw me out into the hallway. I was too independent to take that so I ran away down the street. I was running so fast, I tripped and fell right in front of the church. Knee skinned, bleeding and crying I needed help.  The folks in the church came out and helped me inside, washed up my knee and asked me if I wanted to go to heaven.  Who doesn’t? So I answered, “Yes, I do.” After saying a few prayers and reading from the Bible, they drizzled droplets of water on my forehead. I thought it was raining and the roof leaked, but someone just said, “You are saved and you are going to go to heaven.” They are right, I was and I am.  The little lady with the pretty hair and powder blue suit walked me back to the entrance of the schoolyard and I walked back to the hallway in front of my classroom. The teacher came out and invited me back into the classroom.  So you see, major lifetime of experiences can occur between being thrown out of your classroom and being invited back in.

Gage Jr. High.

The years I spent in Gage Jr. High School are a blur except for deciding to wear lipstick and losing an important election.

Lots of things happened in Huntington Park HIgh School.  I remember way too many things I’d rather forget, plus this place was not good for my self-esteem. I never gave up, but I gave in.

One more church that played an important part in my life was the St.Matthias Church on Florence Avenue. I was looking for a sign. My boyfriend at the time wanted me to attend mass at his church so I did. As I entered and took my seat a coolness came over me and I was enveloped in a strong semi-vortex of spiraling spiritual energy.  I remember asking God for a sign.  I told him I was in a difficult place and I needed a sign if I was EVER, EVER going to be a believer. The mass was over and my boyfriend and I headed out of the large double doors to the parking lot where I left my car. My car had moved. I was a relatively new driver and must not have put my car in gear, so it rolled into a tree at the edge of the parking lot. If not for the tree, my car would have rolled into the middle of the street.  I asked for a sign and got a big one. Thanks be to God.

The temple: Huntington Park Hebrew Congregation which is now the Seventh Day Adventist Church, is flanked by a new motel on one side and a bakery on the other.  When this was the temple, it was my salvation. My life revolved around the activities here and this is the place I received a healthy dose of strong self-worth, until Doomsday. Doomsday for me happened in my 12th year when, the Rabbi called me into his office and told me that I would not be confirmed with the other girls in my Hebrew class. Was he kidding?  No, he was not. I begged, pleaded and then, asked why?  He complimented me on being a very good student, but calmly stated that my birthdate fell 19 days after the cut off for the confirmation exercises and that I would have to come another year for studies.  When I realized that anything I had to say was not being heard, I said, “Shit on you, Rabbi.” I then turned and ran from the temple, never to return. Years and years later, the same Rabbi must have suffered a bit of guilt. My parents told of him of our large family and that I was doing the Seder for the first time. He asked that a package be delivered to me. The gift package contained 20 beautiful brand new sparkling Haggadahs that I have used every year since I received them. Thank You Rabbi Hyman, may you rest in peace.

The best part of my visit home was to witness that Huntington Park is a vital, bustling beautiful vibrant city full of activity and remains an important commercial and industrial area southeast of Los Angeles City Center.

You can never go home, but you can go back, visit, and get your memories in high gear. Isn’t Huntington Park a beautiful city?  May she have continued success and continue to serve her community well.

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With our local guide , Livos and car, we passed from Rovinj to Paxin, Beram, Hum Motovun, Grozjnan, Orpaltj, a fresco church/museum, wine tasting and a truffle-tasting lunch.

I really cannot think of a clever way to describe each town to you or a proper way to distinguish each sufficiently, so what I will do is lump the experience together, showing some photographs depicting the distant views of hilltop towns, the surrounding countryside and the interiors as well. Experiencing the hilltop views and then being privy to the centers of these towns is something we will never forget and something I recommend for you to experience first hand if possible.

The countryside of the peninsula of Istria was magnificent this mid-November. The colors were amply apparent and just beautiful.

The hilltop towns can be seen from a distance, raising anticipatory levels.

The town of Grozjnan poking through the clouds.

I included this different photo of one of the same towns because it struck me as very unique looking from a distance and actually, my jaw dropped when we first viewed this sight.

This is my personal favorite viewing experience among many unique and favorite viewing experiences.

Entering each town we were struck with the awe of following in ancient footsteps of inhabitants so long forgotten. Since we cannot bring back a particular individual, I hail you all who came before and hope that your life was good and you prospered.

Included here are some views of the environs of those who have come before us in these hilltop towns.

Olive press?

I wrote postcards and mailed them in this little town of Grozjnan, and just a few moments after we paid and stamped the cards, the post office closed for the day. Post office hours are from 10:00 a.m. – 12:00 p.m., then the postmaster goes to another little village for two hours and then another.

Do you see the checkerboard flag? It is the flag of Croatia and there is a story, truth or legend, I do not know.  In 1062 A .D., the Venetian Doge held the Croatian King against his will. The King proposed that they play a game of chess, hence the checkerboard, for his freedom. The Croatian King won the match and won his freedom.  The Croatian flag is flown here with the flag of Istria and I am unable to remember the third flag flown.

We drove on to the outskirts of Beram to the tiny Church of St. Mary full of fading frescoes painted long ago, with an attached cemetery. Croatians take excellent loving care of their ancestors as you can see from all of the flowers, candles and other icons placed at the gravesites. All of the frescoes have important meanings and were painted so that farmers and others who did not read would be able to understand stories from the bible.  Our guide Livos explained his favorite fresco on the top of the back wall. called The Dance of Death.

The meaning of this fresco is that everyone dies and you should not be afraid because it is just a continuation in a different context.  The artist showed the highest-ranking people as skeletons, and depicted all the people of the community who will die, the oldest, the youngest, the most important rank and those with no rank at all.  No one escapes death because it is supposed to be part of life. No, I did not take any photos of the frescos. It was a very dark, very old church with fading frescos and how could I even ask? The lady drove miles to keep our appointment. She is the keeper of the keys and you have to notify her when you are coming and she will meet you at the little church with the door open, for a bit of a hefty price worth every Kuna.

Here is a photo of the unassuming church with a big special secret inside. This church is so remote that you would not be able to discover it without guidance. I think that its remoteness is what has saved and protected these magnificent frescoes that were here for us to see.

The lovely cemetery behind the church of St Mary and the frescoes.

Gate to the town of : Orpaltj

Little old lady with cane, broom and dustpan. I watched her for a while and wondered what she was doing with her tools. A few minutes later she was in full swing cleaning the street of her antique town. I smiled and waved to her, and our guide told her I was impressed with the fact that she was keeping her town clean. You can see her smiling in photo 2.

IN ORPALTJ

The olive pickers at the side of he road were only too happy to pose.  They even showed us from a distance the rake they use to gently coax the olives off of the tree.  They must pick, gather and process the olives within 24 hours of the first picking. Their first press is Extra Virgin. Our guide said the Extra virgin is the best, but they use second and third press for cooking which is good, too.

HUM

I would like to make special mention of the town of Hum pronounced (Hoom or whom), booked as the smallest town in the world.  Could be, but I think they ought to check out the town of Harmony, California. Either way it was a thrill to walk up to the heavy metal doors protecting the entrance to this teeny tiny walled and fortified town. The doors were opened and we entered to lovely sights, expected. The doors were used in ancient times to make certain that only desirable neighbors were entering either for work, visitations or protection. They say that Hum has become a touristy town with its two shops, but actually we were the only visitors.

In the vicinity of Hum the largest Truffle was found.

Doors to Hum are closed.

We made it back to Rovinj for a walk into the town to get the feel and see what we might have missed during our wonderful day in and around the peninsula of Istria.

Dark photo as it was quite late in the day.

Rovinj city street

SLEEP # 32

We slept on and off on  the two planes with major delays taking us ultimately HOME SWEET HOME.

I do have to report that the magical millefleur beads are missing. They have been missing since the hotel stay in Venice. Let me say that when we unpacked on the Seabourn Spirit (lovely ship, lovely passengers and lovely all around experience) they were gone. Let me say that maybe they were accidently left at the hotel or maybe I was pick-pocketed. They are just missing.  So those of you who were going to get magical beads will just have to wait, because not only aren’t they magical, someone else has them.  I will work to get more, the real magic.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for commenting. Thank you.

Until next time.

Sincerely,

Sheila

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