Near the Old Man of Storr, Scotland I took this in 2004

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Check this out..!!!

This is an old blog of mine called Liminality
I lost the password, but it's worth the read.

And, while you're at it, here's another now elderly blog also of mine, and to which I have no password, yet again, called Art for who's sake, but, it's more like a diary, so...there you go, kimono!


Friday, July 4, 2008

Icelandic Sagas, Part 2


Scene 3, Part 3: The journey

So, I got on the bus from the airport to the capital, after all. How hard could it be now? A bus ride to a wee village? No sweat. Or so I thought.
The ride went something like this...the bus up filled at the station . I and all the other Icelandic passengers climbed aboard. This was going to take me in to Reykjavik, where i would then catch another bus. No problemo!

The journey was a bizarre one. We rode in near darkness for most of the way. I had no idea what I was looking at as I stared out the window. I thought that maybe I was looking at some unfinished construction, but what, i wondered?

Scene 4, part 1: As it turned out, it was not construction at all. But, as the sun started to rise, it began to reveal what it was i had been puzzling over for a good part of an hour. I had been staring at volcanic crators! It was amazing and beautiful, and funny to think that I had truly no clue what i had been staring at. I love it when that stuff happens.


Scene 4, Part 2: The second bus...

So, with the rising sun our airport shuttle arrived about an hour later at a bus depot in Reykjavik. Now the fun part. I left the bus and walked in to the very large and very empty bus depot. It was all of 7:30 in the morning, early. I was surprised to see no one anywhere...though thankfully there was a young woman at the ticket booth.

I told her where I needed to get to, the wee village, and could I buy a ticket.. Mind you, this was no easy feat, seeing as she could barely speak English. I bought a return, and she told me to wait for the bus for about a half hour or so. So I began to wait.

After about 15 minutes, I noticed a bus in the bus bay. Something told me to go find out if that was my bus, and perhaps the young woman was wrong.
I walked over to the bus, and the bus driver appeared and I told him the name of the village I was heading to. He said , yes, he was heading that way, and was actually about to leave! What? This trip was already off to a very strange beginning.






Thursday, July 3, 2008

The Icelandic Sagas, Part 1

I remember when I finally made up my mind to head off to Iceland. I had wanted to go for years. It was such a burning desire, but I had neatly tucked it away in the recesses of
"It'll never happen".

Part 1, Scene 1: The buying of the ticket and such like.

So, when I finally bought my ticket, I thought I must be mad.
Mad or not, I was going, and I had a ticket to prove it! I spent time looking on-line for a hostel. I found one which seemed perfect, way out in a remote wee fishing village, near the west fjords.
Part 1, Scene 2: Getting there is half the fun?

I'm at the airport..where the very efficient check-in person asked me if I was going to the hot springs. Hot springs? Huh? I had no clue what he meant...well, whatever, it was insignificant. But, boy did he seem excited slash jealous. "But Why?", I thought.

Part 1, Scene 3: All about the Americans!

I'm now on plane number 2, heading for Iceland. I'm surrounded by American retirees...from Georgia. Good times! It's a little hazy, but it goes something like this: the Americans start asking me questions, where was I going, how long..the usual...I mention the village I was headed to, and they promptly whip out a map. And then it hits me, I start to mildly panic, which went something like " Dear lord," well more than likely, " Dear Green Tara," I quickly think,
" I am not a map-carrying or map taking type of traveller, but please assure me that this trip will be ok." I start to show the Americans my destination, well sort of, it's not really on a map, it's a wee village after all, for this I was actually pretty grateful. I think I was really selling this village. I'm not even in sales. But the next thing I know, they started mentioning that they wanted to try to get out there..to my wee fishing village during their trip. Lucky me. Next up, the steward started chatting with the Americans, and asked them, and I was semi-included in this, if any of them knew any Icelandic. I hardly held my breath for their answers. The answer came from the American lady in the row in front of me, or us, who happily chimed in that no, of course she didn't speak Icelandic, she was from Georgia, so they spoke American. Fun!

Part 2, Scene 2 : And the fun continues.

I will remember this particular scene fondly, if we can use such a loving word here. I often times order a Kosher meal when in the air. It's not really for the food, as much as it is for the prayer. I like the prayer. I feel safe, looked after. Ok, I'll admit, I don't speak or read Hebrew, but for me it's calming all the same. To be given food that has been not only blessed but presented with it's own prayer , sometimes in English, more often only in Hebrew, and 4 layers of hard-core saran wrap. All specialty meals are served first. This is just common practice. My Kosher meal was served to me first, while my American seat-mates tried to politely avoid me, giving me a chance to eat.
It's always awkward when you are the only person eating a special meal and all the people around you aren't and so they stare while trying to make it seem as if they were looking out the window at a super fascinating cloud. Yeah right, after having been in the air even for 10 minutes, there are no truly super fascinating clouds, they're all just big and fluffy. But I digress. My American seat mates were absolutely no exception. I knew I seemed too bizarre for them to resist..and then I heard it, whispered just loud enough for my ears to not have had to strain, but quiet enough to still be a whisper:
"She's a vegetarian!" The word vegetarian was emphasized with both disgust and a sort of self-congratulatory air, as if the speaker had found the cure for cancer. Ok, maybe not that much, but more like....mmm, like she'd just solved a very puzzling mystery. The speaker was none other than one of my female American seat mates, just off to my left. She made her announcement cum discovery to the group, as it were.

I tried really hard to not laugh out loud. I thought, " if they only knew, that I'm not vegetarian, but, (gasp!) Jewish, eating Kosher..well, let's just say they probably wouldn't have been all that interested in my goings on....





Tuesday, July 1, 2008

The meet and greet!


Hello, and welcome to my site!!! Here I will introduce myself a bit.

A few facts about me:

 Fact 1: I am a traveller, hence the title of my blog, but...
 
About my teaching:
 I have a lot of experience teaching. I have taught here, in Toronto, and in Colombia, South America. Also, I have been tutoring for at least 8 years, if not longer. If you or someone you know is looking for an excellent, RSA CELTA qualified  ESL Tutor, please contact me, at: Fantastic.Instructor@gmail.com.
Any questions? 


In the following pages I will be writing about my travel adventures!!!!

Stayed Tuned...