"Wild Goose, Brother Goose, ...

...which is best? A wandering foot, or a heart at rest?"

Even from childhood, I had the urge to wander -- to see faraway places about which I read in books, or saw in the movies.  I dreamed of going all over the world, and my 'I want-to-go-there' list included well known and often visited places as well as those explored by only a few or, perhaps, existing only in fiction.

My earliest remembered wishful destination, -- when I was about 8 years old -- was brought on by reading a multi-volume world fairy tales collection housed in the children's section of the Albuquerque Public Library.  I wanted to go into the deep forests of Russia, to seek out the witch Baba Yaga who traveled through the trees in a hut which strode about on chicken legs.  How cool is that!?

Reading Young Fu of the Upper Yangtze* made me yearn to visit China.  The Trumpeter of Krakow* (the first book I ever read that was shelved in the 'bigger' folks area, although I was still under 10 years of age), created vivid mental pictures of the Late Middle Ages.  Although I didn't realize it at the time, I was longing for the ability to travel through time.  * Note: both these volumes were Newbery Medal winners. I was steered, early on, into good literature by the watchful librarians.

In later years, I became fascinated by stories from Egyptian history, both fact and fiction. I longed to float down the River Nile and explore the pyramids and the tombs of the Pharoahs.  Thor Heyerdahl's Kon Tiki made me dream of drifting westward with the Pacific Ocean currents from the coast of Peru to Easter Island,  and beyond. John Master's riveting tales of India set during the 1820's, The Deceivers and The Nightrunners of Bengal, chilled my blood and yet made me wish to be able to visit that mysterious and dangerous continent.  [Note: now that my granddaughter has a husband from India, and they travel there with their children to visit his family, I'm not so sure I would want to go... too many mental images from those old books. Of course, it's not like that, these days, but a dangerous place for the uninitiated, none the less.]

I've been fortunate enough to do a little bit of 'world-wandering' although my travels didn't start until I was in my 40's.  I still have a long held wish to visit New Zealand and Australia and, perhaps I shall yet do it, but my chances are getting slimmer by the year.

I leave you with this video of the song that encapsulates all my 'wandering' dreams.

I'm away, now, to read some fairy tales from around the world that were no-cost downloads to my Kindle.

Tomorrow is also a day.

My Travels - Part 1 By the Sea, By the Sea, By the Beautiful Sea

The Mediterranean Sea as seen from the coast of Crete

 

This afternoon, I started going through some boxes of old photos -- you know, the kind of photos we had before the digital age.  I'm a pack rat, and have hundreds and hundreds of photos, in boxes, manila folders, large envelopes, etc.  Most of them bring back very clear memories of the time and place; some I struggle with trying to remember where, who and, oftimes, why I took the photo and why I still have it.

One of the photo boxes, the sort that is wider than a shoebox but about as long, was almost full of photos I took during a trip to Greece.  While this was not the first of my travels, these are the photos I came across first, and so this is where I shall start.

In the Spring of 1993, I was fortunate to spend almost four weeks visiting my daughter and her family on the Greek island of Crete.   Her husband was stationed at the Iraklion Air Station with the U.S. Air Force. They had, at that time, two children, aged 5 and almost 2.  They had been there not quite a year when my son-in-law was notified that the Air Station was being de-activated, and they would be transferred back to the U.S. in the fall.  They called me to let me know that if I wanted to visit Crete, this was the time!  So, I renewed my passport, arranged to take the four weeks vacation due me all at once, packed my bags, and off I went!

The flight to Crete was uneventful -- at least until I got to Athens where I encountered a troubling and unexpected delay, about which I will post later. It's a tale in itself. 

My departure from Athens having been delayed,  I arrived on Crete around midnight on March 31, 1993.  My son-in-law picked me up at the Iraklion Airport, and we drove 14 km to the smaller sea-side town of Kokkini Hani in which they lived. Arriving in the middle of the night, I caught no glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea, and was most anxious to see the body of water that was so prominent in Ancient History.

Unfortunately, I did not keep a journal of my daily activities, so my photos are not in chronological order. I'll also have to consult my daughter as I proceed with my "Crete" story, since she will remember things that I have forgotten.

For this first chapter of  My Travels, I just wanted to share a few of the photos in which the Mediterranean can be seen.

Yes, it's really that color

 

My granddaughter

A tiny sea-side church - Crete

 

More, later. Tomorrow is also a day.