One of the Good Ones

During the last couple of days I've been receiving some good-natured flack on Facebook following my comments about the weather. I did say that I was enjoying a beautiful spring-like day and then qualify the statement by saying I didn't want to call it spring otherwise I might jinx the weather. Well, sure enough, we got about 6" of snow last night. I haven't checked that on the weather service; I'm judging by what was on the walks today.

Before he left this morning for an icky drive to work on slippery roads, Richard asked me if I would shovel a path so that we'd have a clean space to walk when the snow started to melt. Before I got around to it some kind neighbour, I don't know who, had shovelled the city sidewalk in front of our house. I decided I'd better get out there and get the snow off the walk leading up to the house. I put on my winter boots, only because they were easy to slip into and were more waterproof than my shoes. The temperature was a bit above freezing so I donned a shell over my light fleece.

Bits of heavy, wet snow dropped from the trees down my neck a couple of times. No matter, the weather was warm and I wouldn't melt with a little water. As I shovelled I listened to robins, gulls and the occasional magpie. I decided since it was pleasant out, I might as well tackle the driveway as well.

I went around to the back and began. It took me about an hour. No sense pulling muscles in the heavy wet stuff. It wasn't long before I shed my gloves. Then I took off my shell and hung it over the mirror of the big van. There was a small rivulet running down the side of the van caused by the snow melting off the windshield. I worked for a bit and then pushed up my sleeves. I debated about taking off my fleece. Every once in a while a gust of wind would come up and cool me off sufficiently so I left the fleece on.

I was completely content as I was tossed shovels full of snow behind the back fence. The temperatures and the snow stirred memories of the time I spent in Banff as a student many years ago. We went out drawing in the spring snow and then when we were wet and cold, we went into a restaurant on Banff Avenue for a cup of tea. Many nights I sat by the fireplace in what used to be called the Admin Building and watched snow fall through beams of outdoor lights onto the lawn. And, I remember skiing Sunshine with just a sweater and a light shell.

As I stood on the clear driveway looking at and listening to three robins in the bare branches of a weeping birch, I realized there are worse things than being physically able to deal with spring snow. There are worse things than having a cool breeze take the sweat off my forehead. There are worse things than shovelling snow with bare hands and arms. Now, I'm not expecting people who love the heat to agree with me. If temperatures in the high 20's to mid 30's make you feel alive, my hat is off to you. Enjoy those temperatures to the fullest whether you have to go to latitudes closer to the equator to experience them or whether you love the few days in Alberta when the temperature climbs and I head for the basement. I hope those temperatures will bring you the kind of contentment I had today in the spring snow. Today was one of the good ones.

(I shot a bit of video with robins chirping in the background - enjoy.)

Crusing in Costa Rica

Now that is an odd title for me. First of all, I thought I'd never be caught dead taking a cruise and second, Costa Rica wasn't high on my list of places to visit. It was another one of those , "Why not?" moments that are becoming more frequent in my life.

We were on a WindStar ship when cycling with Santana Cycles in Spain and Portugal in November and got an email announcing a half-price deal on some of their cruises. Richard and I had discussed getting away for spring break and one of the cruises happened to span that time. We signed up. It wasn't really on our radar until about two weeks before we left when suddenly we realized we'd better start thinking about what to take. We sat down at the computer one night and booked all of our shore excursions so we wouldn't have to debate once on the ship.

We had two nights in a hotel in San Jose in which to practice our slug technique, or perhaps given the country, I should call it 'sloth' technique. Richard particularly needed the time to just unwind and get caught up on sleep.

In many ways the Costa Rica we saw was not what I expected. It was nearing the end of the dry season and many of the trees lose their leaves to conserve moisture. I didn't expect to see bare trees in a tropical country. There was a blanket of brown leaves on many of the paths we took through the forest.

We chose the wildlife spotting options for our excursions except for the first one which was in Nicaragua and involved a trip to a volcano. I was a little dismayed by the signs in Spanish and English warning motorists to park their cars facing out in case they had to get away quickly. Other signs suggested that if there was a lot of debris coming from the volcano people might want to take shelter under their cars.

When we were there the volcano behaved itself. It spewed clouds of sulfurous gasses which were impressive enough for me. One of the guides I talked to reported being at the volcano with a group of visitors when the volcano decided to throw soft-ball-sized chunks of rock up over the rim. He said although no one was hurt, it frightened him. We talked for maybe five minutes and as I turned to go down the stairs and back to the bus I wished him well. That short interaction reminded me what I like so much about young adults. He was friendly, open, interested and interesting.

We visited Manuel Antonio park, Fincas Naturales, Corcovado National Park and Curu Wildlife Refuge. Our guides had very sharp eyes and all carried spotting scopes. One guide allowed those with small digital cameras to take photos through the spotting scope. We saw a variety of wildlife. There were many birds even around the hotel in San Jose. One of them looked like a relative of the magpie in body and tail shape although this bird was all black. There were numerous small song birds and Richard managed good photos of one that landed on our balcony the first morning while I was still asleep.

We saw pelicans flying in a v formation almost like geese and there were white and blue herons at various points of the trip. I was delighted to see two scarlet macaws fly overhead. Because they were against the light sky I couldn't see their brilliant colours but it was enough to have seen them in the wild. Macaws and parakeets are protected in Costa Rica and many of our guide have strong feelings that such birds should never be kept as pets. I mostly kept my mouth shut on the subject. The birds we have were all bred in captivity specifically as pets. I am absolutely against owning wild-caught birds who tend not to make very good pets anyway. Costa Ricans are not allowed to keep native birds as pets but people who had birds as pets before the law was enacted were allowed to keep them. That's how I got my best shots of a scarlet macaw. His name is Paco and he lives on Tortuga island. He had a serious injury to his wing and even after he recovered his health he was unable to fly. Paco has a perch around one of the palm trees where he sits and poses for the tourists. In the time I watched an photographed him he didn't utter a sound. I imagine a few good screams from a macaw would terrify some of the children visiting the island.

We were able to observe two and three-toes sloths, again thanks to guides with sharp eyes who knew what to look for. One of the varieties of sloth has an algae growing in its fur so it looks like part of the tree. The algae is necessary to the life cycle of a species of moth that lives in the forest. We encountered agoutis in many different places. These are rodents about the size of cats. They have long hind legs almost like a jack rabbit and, most surprising to me, they have no tails.

I'm not sure of the name of the relative of the raccoon we saw. They have long prehensile tails that are striped like a raccoon's tail. At one place we saw four or five different individuals some of which chased off one of the late comers.

By the time we left the country we had seen all three of the types of monkeys that inhabit Costa Rica and had heard the howlers do their thing on an early morning nature hike. I don't imagine you'd need an alarm clock if you were staying close to a bunch of howlers.

On our day at sea we spotted turtles and dolphins. I can't believe I forgot to bring binoculars with me. That will definitely be on the list of items for the next trip. Our guides were superb at spotting wildlife or evidence of it. One guide stopped us and pointed to a perfectly camouflaged nest containing two eggs about a foot off the path where we were walking. All in all it was a memorable holiday although I was very thankful to have an air conditioned cabin to return to after a couple of hours walking in the jungle.

Breaking and Exiting

Odie again gets the spotlight in this one. Ever since we got him we've known that he needed a job. We didn't know that he would find one for himself.

For quite a while Odie has bee playing with the spring on one of the doors on his cage. He'll slide it up and then let it drop down, bite the bars to hear them ping, and then resume sliding the spring up and down the bar. When we got the cage for him I wired all the doors shut except the front one so I wasn't terrible worried about his constant fiddling with the door on the right side of the cage.

I was, therefore, quite surprised when I came into the kitchen a few days ago glanced toward the bird cages and did a double-take. There was Odie looking pleased a punch sitting on top of his cage. I didn't let him out. Richard didn't let him out because he wasn't home at the time ,and the front door of the cage was shut. When I looked a bit more closely I saw that Odie had managed to break the weld on one of the wires holding the side door so hat it was now hanging by one corner, the one I had wired. There was a nice little triangle of space just enough for Odie to slip through.

First problem: how to get Odie away from the cage so I could figure out how to patch it. Next problem, how to patch the cage. I couldn't exactly weld it back together and I didn't want to use anything that would be harmful to Odie. I called the vet and asked what kind of wire would be safe around birds. Answer: stainless steel. We didn't happen to have any of that in our possession so I decided that I could do a temporary patch. I talked very sweetly to Odie who was still on top of the cage. I asked his permission to put up the wooden perch we sometimes use as a bridge so he can go from his cage to the back of one of the dining room chairs to his bird gym. I moved slowly and he behaved himself and just watched instead of rushing and lunging for my hand.

I got the perch set up and opened the door; then I sat down at the table to wait and see what he would do. Eventually he climbed off the top of the cage, walked across the perch and started playing with the toys on his gym. I disconnected the perch from the cage. I didn't want some little green parrot with a sharp beak running up and attacking me while I was trying to fix the cage. I decided that I could take a piece of wood and simply tie it to the cage with cotton string. I knew that wouldn't last long but it only had to last until I could get out to get some wire to make a more permanent patch.

I managed to slip into the shop, find a suitable piece of softwood and drill holes to secure it to the cage. All the while I kept an eye on what Odie was doing on his gym. I hoped he wouldn't get it into his little bird brain to flap down to the floor because I sure wasn't in any mood to try to pick him up either with my hands or a perch. He stayed put and I got the wood tied onto the cage. Then I put the perch back, put an almond in his cage where he could see it and waited. It didn't take him very long to make his way back to the cage to get the almond. I shut the door and crossed my fingers that he wouldn't chew through the string too fast.

The next day I was out in the morning and was a bit nervous about what I might find in the way of destruction when I came home. All was well so I decided to leave things alone. Part way through the evening I came out into the kitchen and there was Odie on the top of his cage once more. He had, predictably, chewed through the strings and some of the wood and escaped again. This time Richard was home so he was able to babysit Odie while I fashioned a more durable patch.

That patch is still holding up. Every day Odie chews a bit more wood off it but, so far, he hasn't been able to break any of the wires. When he does, or when he manages to chew through the wood, I have a special wooden sandwich planned for him. I'll put a piece of maple or poplar on the inside of the cage and bolt it to a piece of softwood on the outside of he cage. I stocked up on stainless steel nuts, bolts and washers for the purpose. Each day I check the patch especially if I'm going to be out for a while. I want him to be busy with this arrangement as long as possible but I don't want him actually getting out.

Little did I know when I wished for a bird that was a bit more entertaining than the cockatiel and the budgie just how entertaining Odie would be!

Life with Odie: the first year

We got Odie, the African Senegal parrot, on December 27, 2009. I thought I had done my homework quite well. The breed is supposed to be easy-going, quiet (as parrots go), fun-loving and friendly. I talked to our avian vet about Senegals and I talked to people who had parrots. I wanted an interactive parrot, one I could work with, maybe train to do a few tricks and, yes, I wanted a parrot I could handle. Having willingly moved from cats to birds because of my husband's allergy, I still want a pet I can ... pet. I have great memories of my Quaker parrot, Koko sitting with me for long periods of time while I preened her head. She would shut her eyes and move her head around until I got exactly the right spot.

Ever since Koko died I've been watching the Kijiji ads for birds, just to see what's out there. The ad for Odie would appear and then would disappear for a few months and then appear again. I watched this with increasing interest. Odie was young but not a baby. He liked head-scratches from anyone and, clearly, the owner wanted the right home for him and was willing to wait until the right people came along. After talking it over with Richard, I called the number in the ad. We arranged to go over and meet Odie. I felt a bit like I was going on a blind date. His owners were very nice and they let him out of his cage and showed us how he played and how he liked to have his head scratched. Odie stepped up on my finger when I asked him to and when I went to put him back into his cage he set his beak on my finger. He didn't bite. He was just letting me know that maybe I had moved a bit fast for him.

We went home and thought about it some more. These parrots can live for 40 years so we'd have to make provision for him in our will. I emailed the owner and asked if he would allow us to take Odie to our vet and get a health check done on him. The owner agreed and met us at the vet's. He then took off for coffee and Odie got his first look at the vet's office. The vet was quite impressed with him. He seemed gentle enough. She said he had a number of chances to bite her but didn't. We also had him DNA sexed. Living with a broody female cockatiel convinced us that a male was what we wanted. Odie's test results came back saying that he was a fairly healthy male. We agreed to take Odie after Christmas. His wings weren't clipped and his owner said he could have the wings clipped before we picked Odie up.

With one thing and another the owner wasn't able to get Odie clipped by the time we were to go and get him. We waited and eventually said that we would take him to our vet to get his wings done. Because of the delay the owners delivered Odie to us at around 9:00 on December 27. We didn't have a chance to do much more than put him to bed that night. Over the next few days he amused us by lying on his back in our hands, speaking in long sentences, none of which we understood and generally checking out the house. He was a bit nippy but we figured he'd settle in. We specifically asked the owners if there had been any problems with biting and they said there hadn't.

About the third night Odie was with us the phone rang. He was out on the top of his cage where he had been when the phone had rung before. For some reason this time it spooked him and he took off. The appointment to get his wings clipped was the next day. He flew into the dining room and landed on the top of a halogen light. He didn't stay there long. I offered him my hand to step onto but he took off and flew right into the transom window between the dining room and the shop. I heard the thump and went rushing down the stairs to where Odie sat hunched up on the floor. I scooped him up and put him back into his cage while my husband called the vet. I unceremoniously dumped the person whose call caused the flight. The vet's office had just closed although they still answered the phone. They told us to take Odie to the animal emergency clinic. I got Odie to step up onto my hand from his cage and was able to put him into his carrier. He did clamp down on my hand but let go when I put him in the carrier.

Odie had a bump on his head and probably a headache. We came home with pain medication for him and life resumed. I noticed that Odie wouldn't always step up on my hand when it came time for me to put him back into his cage. When I tried to get him to step up he sometimes bit me. I've done a lot of reading on training parrots and all of it emphasizes how important it is to have a well-socialized bird i.e. one that doesn't bite. Most of the literature says that it's important to teach your parrot to step up reliably so that you can use that request to calm him down or to get him out of danger if need be. Most of the training info I read used food rewards along with a signal to make the wanted behaviour so that the bird would learn that if he repeated the behaviour he'd get a treat.

Sometimes when I offered Odie food he would take it gently. Sometimes he would bite me and when he bit he meant business. I cleaned blood of the kitchen floor on a number of occasions and found myself wishing I owned shares in a band-aid company. I read more books; we filled out a behavioural questionnaire for the vet and had a couple of consultations. She said I really needed to get Odie stepping up. She suggested that I use wooden perches so that he wouldn't bite my hands. On the few occasions I had tried a wooden perch Odie stepped on it and rushed down toward my hand. I asked her if I could wear gloves while holding the perches. She said I could wear oven mitts if I wanted.

One afternoon I decided it was time to try out the new procedure. I got a couple of pieces of dowel and put on the oven mitts. I let Odie out of his cage, approached him with one of the dowels and asked him to step up. He stepped on the dowel and immediately stepped down. I asked him to step up again and he ran around the side of it. I tried a third time and he flapped off the top of his cage and landed on the floor. I followed him from the dining room to the kitchen and into the living room offering the dowel for him to step on. He went around the side. He hopped over it. He hopped on it and flapped off. Then he turned around and headed back into the kitchen and into a corner. I wasn't going to crowd him in the corner so I stood back and glanced up at the clock wondering what to do next. When I looked back, he was gone. I knew he couldn't have gotten past me. I went over to the corner where a built in cabinet met the wall and discovered that there was a space between the side of the cabinet and the wall. This space was covered with a false front and there was an opening at the bottom that Odie had gotten into.

I got down on the floor and talked to Odie. He growled. I called the vet. She told me at our previous consultation if there was anything I needed I should call. I needed to get this bird out of the space between the cabinet and the wall! The vet suggested that I try to get a perch in there so he could step on that and I could take him out. She also suggested that I try to entice him out with his favourite treats. I hung up and put some grapes at the opening. More growling.

I waited for an hour and a half hoping the bird would come out. I had visions of him dying of starvation in there. About this time Richard came home and I greeted him with, "Your bird is in there!" We were supposed to go to my father-in-law's for dinner. It was his birthday. We called to say we would be late for supper and Richard tried to coax Odie out. No dice. Finally we decided to take the cabinet apart. We took the doors off, removed some of the contents and then went to work with a small pry bar. When we got the strip off Richard looked down at a very dusty, growling bird. I stayed out of the way while Richard talked softly to Odie and eventually got him to step up onto one of his rope perches. Once back in his cage Odie was somewhat subdued for a couple of days.

Even though it probably wasn't the right thing to do, I stopped trying to handle Odie. If I don't get my fingers anywhere near him he can't bite me. Richard is the one who picks Odie up and moves him from his cage to his gym. Over time Odie has come to make some friendly gestures toward me. In the morning when I take his cover off he offers and enthusiastic, "Ooooo," followed by a number of slow wing stretches. We are at the point now where he will dip his head against the bars of his cage so I can scratch his head. He moves his head around and closes his eyes and sometimes he makes a purring sound.

A few times when he's been on his gym he's dipped his head and I've put my hand out to give him a scratch. I've been rewards with more bleeding digits. I've tried a number of the techniques suggested by various trainers including distracting him. The problem is that he's much faster than I am. By the time I realize he's going to bite it's way, way too late.

So I suppose after a year Odie and I have a kind of truce. I enjoy stroking his head, through the bars so we both feel safe and he makes me laugh when he swings on his toys or calls out, "Richard, come get your birdie!" He plays a game of blink with me and will sometimes initiate it. He seems calmer now than when we got him and I hope that someday we'll both be able to interact without the cage bars between us. I know that I'm the human and it's my job to figure out as much as I can about what makes this little green dragon behave in the way he does.

I'm grateful that Odie protests when he thinks I'm going to leave the house. On some level he recognizes that we are members of the same flock. I enjoy his physical antics and the contented noises he makes when I stroke his head. I laugh when he demands, " Where's Richard?" This certainly isn't what I envisioned when we agreed to add Odie into our flock but I'm fond of him. This isn't what Richard expected either. He has taken on much more of Odie's care than either of us thought he would, and even though Odie was my idea, Richard doesn't complain. I don't know what year two with Odie will bring but I'm pretty confident in predicting it will continue to be an adventure.

Simple Gifts

It's a snowy day, not absolutely frigid but cold enough that it's nice to be indoors in comfortable fleece clothing. It's getting close to Christmas. We haven't put up our tree yet and I haven't done any Christmas shopping so gifts are on my mind. I have a folder in my brain in which I store the surprise gifts I have received from strangers and acquaintances and as I think of giving gifts i go back to that folder.

The first gift in my collection was given to me when I was in my early 20's. I was living in Banff and had a rare day off from my duties in the theatres at the Banff School of Fine Arts. At that time I didn't own a car and used a bright purple ten-speed bike for transportation. On that particular day, I decided to ride my bike from Banff to Lake Minnewanka. I'm not sure of the distance but it wasn't a long ride as I've since come to understand them. I wasn't in particularly good shape and it was a hot day. On my way back from the lake, tired and hot, I stopped at the pullout of a scenic lookout. I was sitting on a picnic table with my bike leaning beside me drinking warm plastic-tasting water from my water bottle when a woman came out of a motor home parked a few feet away from where I sat. I didn't pay too much attention as the woman approached me. In her hand she held a plastic bag of cherries. As l looked up she smiled and handed me the bag. "We have more of these than we can eat," she said, "and you look like you could use them." She smiled. I thanked her. She stepped back into the motor home; the driver started the engine and they pulled onto the highway to continue their journey. The cherries were cold and I was hungry and, although I have long since forgotten the woman's face, I will always remember her kindness.

A number of years later when Richard, my cousin David and I were on a cycling trip in southern B.C. it was another hot day. While the guys stayed with the bikes I went into a small roadside store to buy cold drinks. I also picked up some fresh fruit for a snack. When I brought my purchases to the counter the man behind it told me that the fruit would be free and apologized that he couldn't really afford to give me the drinks for free because of what they cost him. "Anyone who rides in this heat deserves a bit of a break," he told me as he rang up the drinks. I thanked him and filed his kindness alongside the lady with the cherries.

There have been times recently too where people have given me unexpected gifts. One day as I was pulling into a pay lot and getting out of my car to buy a ticket from the machine, a young man walked over and offered me his ticket. It still had quite a bit of time on it he said and someone might as well use it. Since then I always look for someone to whom I can give my ticket before I leave the lot. Sometimes no one appears and I drive home and discard the ticket. Most times, though, I'm able to give it to someone else so they can use the remaining time.

Twice a month I meet my friend Katharine downtown not far from where she works so we can have lunch together. I get there first and buy our lunches, always the same from the same stall in the food court. We've been doing this for over two years now, and while I wouldn't call myself a regular because I'm not there every day, one young woman behind the counter recognizes me and calls in the order as I approach. Twice lately she has leaned over the counter and said quietly, "Today the drinks are on the house." I smile, thank her and leave a tip. Does she give other customers free drinks on occasion? I don't know and it really doesn't matter. I am simply grateful.

The last example in my mental file arrived just a week ago. Judy and I were on our usual walk and we stopped in for lunch at a quiet cafe. We ordered our meals and took them to an empty table. I was facing the window and Judy was facing the counter. One of the women behind the counter caught Judy's eye and asked if we would like a piece of apple pie. Who turns down apple pie? It was a huge piece and we enjoyed sharing it. Perhaps it was getting late in the afternoon and the woman didn't want to keep the pie until the next day. Again I don't know the reason behind the gift and I don't need to know it. In part the gift is in the reminder of how little it takes to brighten someone's day.

I will eat turkey this Christmas as is traditional in our family but I will also think about cherries, cold drinks and apple pie and be thankful.

Turning One Hundred

Let me start by saying that I'm not turning one hundred, just in case there is any doubt. Last Saturday I attended a celebration for the hundredth year of the church I attended as a kid. It was a rather strange experience. I've maintained few relationships from elementary, high school or university. It's almost as if each chapter of my life is in a box by itself and once a box is closed it doesn't get opened again; so it was odd, and wonderful, to meet up with my first best-friend.

Many people put in hours and hours of work on scrapbooks and photo boards for the evening. There were pictures of church suppers, Sunday school groups, church camps and individuals who were part of the church's history. My dad showed up in a couple of newspaper clippings. In one photo he stands with a group of men behind the corner stone for the 'new' church (built in 1960). Dad was also in half a dozen photos in an album. These were taken in the seventies during a church service and it looks like Dad's health had taken a turn for the worse. The shirt he wears is too big around the neck and the jacket seems to have too much material in it.

I was also in at one picture. I didn't notice it until someone pointed it out to me. In it are several small girls, all of us in frilly dresses, with our mothers standing proudly behind us. I found out later that it was taken at Judy's fourth birthday party. Someone remarked that it was uncharacteristic to see both Judy and me in dresses. She didn't like them any more than I did. I wonder if there was a discussion about the dress code for little girls' birthday parties prior to the event, or if some kind of bribery took place to get us both into the dresses.

I talked to many people during the evening. Toward the end of the evening I chatted with the current minister. I knew, in addition to serving on various committees in the church, that my dad was a trustee for a long time. Until Saturday night I had no idea just how long. The minister told me that for twenty-five years after he died Dad's name remained, as the lead trustee, on documents at city hall . I'm not sure when the error was discovered but it took a number of people and much patience to set the record straight. Dad never would give up on a job before it was done to his satisfaction.

As the chairs and tables were being put away and I walked through the snow to my car, I felt my father and the child I was had gained substance and, perhaps, came a bit closer to each other. I also smiled at the realization that we never know just how we will be remembered.

Adventures, expected and unexpected

When we set off on a cycling trip in Spain and Portugal we knew it would be an adventure. We stayed on the Wind Spirit, a motorized yacht that holds 140 people, at least, there were 140 tandem cyclists aboard on our trip.

This was the first time Santana Cycles had run the Spain/ Portugal trip so there were a few kinks to be ironed out. Bill McCready, the leader of the trip and owner of Santana Cycles, is very good at getting things back on track when they look like they're about to go sideways. There was the time that the ship couldn't get into the port and we were all on shore with our bikes. Bill arranged to rent a tent where he and a couple of other Santana stalwarts spent the night with the bikes. The rest of us were tendered to the ship. Bill then managed to rent a truck to transport the bikes to the next port so they would meet us.

Another time the Spanish authorities got a little nervous because they thought that our group would be like the Tour de France closing down roads and disrupting traffic. With the help of a volunteer translator from among the cyclists, Bill managed to allay the governor's fears and we were off the next morning as planned, albeit with a fairly heavy police presence at the pier where we started.

Our last stop was Lisbon, during the NATO summit. All cars were being searched on the way into Portugal and a number of roads that we would have taken were closed. We ended up doing quite a bit of riding in traffic to get to our ship, not our favourite thing to do, but at least we've done it before and know how to do it.

All in all, the cycling wasn't the highlight of the trip for us, a few too many unknowns and a bit too much time pressure. We broke a chain the first day and that put us behind so that we missed a winery tour which, apparently, had fantastic architecture. We rode like crazy one day to make sure we got to the ship in time only to discover that we had the wrong time in our minds and the ship hadn't even arrived when we got there.

Richard says he saw a lot of Spanish pavement as we didn't really take much time in stops. The weather was perfect, for us, highs in the low 20's. Some folks from warmer climes found it chilly but I had my tights on for all of five minutes one morning before getting too hot and taking them off. We rode mostly in shorts and short-sleeved jerseys, although the wind jackets were handy first thing in the morning. The only time we used insulation clothing and our rain jackets was in Tangier where it had rained and was cooler than most of the other places we stopped. Who would have expected that?

Gibraltar was fascinating and I would like to go back and spend more time touring the tunnels. We had a wonderful storyteller/ guide whose grandfather had worked in the facility after WWII. The apes came out to show off on our way to the tour. They weren't used to visitors that early and the van drivers came equipped with goodies to feed them out the window.

Much to my delight, we had two bird surprises. In Barcelona I elected to stay in the hotel room and get some extra sleep to help me deal with a cold. When I felt better, I went wandering around the area by the hotel. I heard a squawk I recognized coming from one of the palm trees. I followed the noise and discovered the first of many Quaker nests. I spent a wonderful hour or so tracking Quakers and watching them go in and out of the huge communal nests.

On the Danube trip two years ago, I was disappointed when we elected to stay on board one day and missed seeing storks. Well, this time we saw storks in Portimao. They really are as large as people have told me!

All in all the trip was enjoyable. We'd like to return to some of the places we saw and spend time to hiking and taking photographs.

The next adventure awaits.