Category: Writing

I am not the writer in our house; my partner is. Nevertheless, from time to time I find myself writing a bit of flash fiction or even poetry and vignettes in a series I call The Sparrow Story.

I truly have no pretensions around the craft of the written word at either a sentence or paragraph level, let alone at something as grandiose as stitching all of that together into a written story. Can you imagine all those words to write? Crazy!

Nevertheless, given my obvious insanity and lack of sense of my limits, I do have aspirations of someday producing a written story or two that may not be a complete waste of another human being’s time to read.

Trani, Italy

I arrived in Trani, Italy last night by train. My good friend Dave, who I am currently staying with, met me at Foggia where we traveled together to Trani. Dave and I met at Boeing where we both worked as simultaneous Japanese interpreters. Dave has since moved on to work full-time as a lean facilitator with the company’s Lean Enterprise Office. In the years since he and his family have been able to live in Japan and now Italy with the company’s commercial suppliers.

Trani is a seaport city situated along the Adriatic Sea in the region known as both Apulia and Puglia. It is a small city that is easily accessible by foot. I was able to walk most of it in about 5-hours including a bit of watching the local Department of Transportation poor asphalt on a new road. To be very specific, it was the road that connected the pier (which I was on) to the mainland and as such there was not much to do other than to wait. I eventually decided to climb over the breaker rocks on either side of the pier when I finally realized I was not that Italian after-all and my American need to move-on overwhelmed me.

I found my way to the Cathedral of Trani where I was kindly “swindled” out of 5 euro by an elderly gentleman. Upon arriving on the steps to the cathedral he came up to me speaking Italian. In whatever Italian I do not speak I indicated I was an American. He then gesticulated for me to follow him into the cathedral where he introduced me to the catacombs, the two alters in the lower portion, counted out the number of pillars in each area, directed me to the various fresco and gave me appropriate dates, brought me up to the main area and again showed me various aspects of the cathedral in all its glory. All of this spoken, of course, in what I can only surmise as a smattering of Italian, English and German. At the very end he turned to me asked for enough money to buy a espresso, which in his economics, is 5 euro. It may have been the most fun I have had in awhile and I must give credit for his enterprising tourist-oriented entrepreneurship.

Near to the cathedral is the Ghetto part of the town that dates back to well over 1000 years; much of the buildings remain unchanged from the medieval times. It is a wonderful stroll through small streets shared by pedestrians and motorists alike. However, nothing runs straight for long which makes navigating it a fun challenge. Across town along the shoreline is a monastery dating back from the 14th century. I enjoyed a bit of a rest in the shade of a building while teenagers blared an eclectic mix of Italian opera, Italian contemporary ballads, and American 80s music including Michael Jacksons’ Thriller. Of the latter a teenager even went so far as to turn up the radio when the song began; some things are stranger than fiction.

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Rome, Italy

I find myself in Rome on Italy’s celebration of the end of World War I — 4 November 2010. I arrived around 6:40 in the morning whereby I discovered that Italy has zero customs required for US citizens; at least, not today. One more country, one more pristine passport page. Granted, my passport photo so does not resemble me that it may have been a good thing, albeit it will catch up with me in Greece or Dubai, I suspect. I basically walked off the airplane and out of the airport with nary an inspection. I promptly got in a van with other tourists going to hotels in Rome proper. It was a pleasant enough ride along the old Roman roads turned thruways. I got dropped off at the central train station which is, per it’s namesake, centrally located in Rome.

Once I procured a train ticket to Foggia and dropped my luggage sans camera I started my trek to the center of ancient Rome to take some photographs. I am very happy I left the telephoto at home. Instead, I brought along a Nikkon 35mm f/2D and Tokina 11mm to 16mm f/2.8 (super) wide-angle. Both have UV and circular polarizers, all from Hoya. I found myself using the wide-angle for most of the day. There is some fringing starting around 14mm and is noticeable at 11mm; nevertheless, it allows me to get shots that I believe compete with most guide books.

It is also some three years ago in January of 2007 that I was here with my then fiancé on our honeymoon; we traveling nearly four weeks through England, France and finally Italy where got bogged down with she with a flu and us in Rome for a week. The weather may be warmer and sunnier this time around, but it does not mask all the memories. So much has seemingly changed in those years; maybe more so with my life than ancient Rome, though.

Whenever I am traveling alone, times of reflection are hardest when I am around couples sharing their time together. I suspect this blog and accompanying photographs are a means for me to not feel cloistered from people. I can have others such as yourself live a little vicariously through me, and in some ways you add yourselves collectively to my experiences, rounding them out as it were.

That all said, while in Texas I was reminded how blessed I am to have such a loving sister and caring brother-in-law. I am also blessed to be able to travel like I do. Not as much as some, but certainly more than many (most). Hopefully I never forget to be thankful for what I have and what I can afford to do.

The rest of the remaining two and half weeks will be one of new ground for me and thus is exciting to me. It has been nice to revisit a part of Rome. To reclaim a part of it as my own; but, it will also be nice to leave it behind and forge ahead to sights yet unseen.

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Idalou, Texas

I kicked off the first leg of my Quadrangle of Awesomeness tour in Idalou, Texas starting back on October 30. I will be here till Wednesday morning (November 3rd) when I depart for Italy. Idalou, located near Lubbock, Texas, the home of Texas Tech University, is a small town of 3000 peoples. And like all of Texas, it is filled with big hats and even bigger hearts. My sister and her husband’s family all live in the area with his mother living just a two-minute walk away from their home. My nephews’ school is only an additional one-minute from their grandmother’s home. Like the last time I visited Idalou and the area, I forgot that the area is approximately 3,900 feet above sea-level being, as it is, closer to New Mexico than it is to Dallas-Forth-Worth. Between the thin and dry air, I find myself pleasantly taking a couple of naps throughout the day.

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Me, My Backpack and I

I bought a custom-built VeloTransit back-pack based on their Chinatown 30 Messenger bag a week or so back. I met the owners and lovely married couple, Paul and Bobbie, back when I was at INSCAPE. Both Paul and Bobbie have lived and travelled extensively throughout Europe and so they are both intimately knowledgable about the kind of traveling I prefer to do: minimalist packing regardless of duration.

When I laid eyes on their messenger bag I knew it was the pack I had been searching for for many, many moons. To say I was giddy with excitement may be one of the biggest understatements in the year of 2010 regarding myself. I believe I squealed out-loud like the little girl that I am not when I saw it. While I already own a rigid-frame pack that I used the last time I was in Europe for four weeks and then in Japan for two weeks, I came away from those two trips with the distinct impression that I was carrying too much. Where there is room there is stuff I found myself trying to fill. So I decided I needed to go on a diet and VeloTransit had a solution.

The modifications to the pack include increasing the depth by 1-inch to accommodate my camera gear. We also removed the reflectors that most cyclists will sanely never be with out. I also asked Paul to include a zipper flap that goes over the shoulder straps in the cases where I need to check-in the back-pack; this is to reduce the likelihood of the pack getting stuck and subsequently devoured by nefarious airport luggage machinery.

I am packing a MacBook Pro 15″, Nikon D90 with 2 lens, a GPS unit, tripod, clothing, toiletry, a few sketchbooks, and various electronics such as iPod and iPhone. The laptop is secured to the back-bottom portion of the pack with its own neoprene sleeve to keep it safe and secure. It all fits in a size that allows me to carry-on to both domestic and international flights. At present I am weighing in at around 35 pounds. Everything in the pack can be removed and re-packed fairly quickly so even security at the airports should not pose (too much of) a problem. And naturally, given the fact that Paul and Bobbie make packs for the cyclists in Seattle, the entire thing is water-proof so I am good to go even when traveling in Europe in the middle of November.

Me, My Backpack and I — Custom-built VeloTransit Backpack based on their Chinatown 30 Messenger Bag. And because I work on AmazonTote I had to mod my pack with one of our tapes that reads "I'm too big to fit in my tote bag."

Dangerous Business Going Out Your Door

It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,” he used to say. “You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.

J.R.R. Tolkien

Well, I am off in less than a week to parts unknown! Well, I know where I am going (sort of). I will start by visiting my eldest sister and her family in Idalou, Texas for Halloween. From Texas I am off to Rome, Italy where I will take a slow train down to Foggia, Italy. Once there I will spend a week visiting one of my best friends Dave and his family. At some point I will determine how to get myself to Greece where I hope to take even more photographs, write, and enjoy whatever might unfold. I have a ticket to take me from Athens to Dubai where I will spend the last five days soaking in some sun and sand. It is what I call the Quadrangle of Awesomeness.

And after three weeks on walking and taking pictures and visiting friends and family it is planned that I return to Seattle. I suspect I will return if for no other reason than my mother and father are visiting me for Thanksgiving. But a part of me does not want to return, albeit I mean this more metaphorically than physically or literally. My heart? Will it return with me? I suspect I will go to sit with it and do by and by wait with it for a dearest friend to stop and say hello. And I also suspect my heart may decide to stay there in the lingering waves of that sand dune heat to wait some more. But that is another story.

I have come to realize that deep down I am a Traveller. I am not just a traveler of places, but a Traveler of ideas and peoples and cultures and experiences. When I first read “Lord of the Rings” so many decades ago I instinctively understood Bilbo’s warning to his much younger nephew Frodo even if at that time I still had not been much further than to the cornfields at the edge of our manicured lawns of Turk Hill Estates. It is dangerous not because there be monsters at edges of the world, it is dangerous because it forever goes on from one experience to the next. A world of infinite ideas and emotions and perspectives to try to understand and to minimally honor through acknowledgement. I do not know where I am being swept off to, but unlike Bilbo I may be a bit more prepared: I have my hat, favorite walking stick and even a bit of monies in my pocket.