The Canary Islands, Madeira, Lisbon & Cadiz

Near the North African coastline, a chain of beautiful volcanic islands beckons the traveler in search of a different type of landscape. Deriving from the latin word for dogs, the Canary islands most likely were named for the barking seals many sailors encountered as they stopped along their trade routes.

Like most islands, especially those along a trade route, different countries and settlers laid claim to these islands. When you view the lunar-landscape, you wonder at first how anything survives in the black volcanic soil. But the islands cultivate wine, which is exported, and live off of tourism. Current theories suggest the earliest inhabitants were Berbers, and later migrants came from Europe, mostly Portugal, Spain, and Italy.

After a while you have seen one too many palm trees, so I am including photos here of some of the unique architectural influences or natural landscapes.

Las Palmas, Gran Canaria

Arrecife, Lanzarote

The volcanic landscape still has some active hot spots.

Because of the wind, the grapevine are planted in these little stone circles to protect them.

Santa Cruz de La Palma

 Santa Cruz de Tenerife

Puerto del Rosario, Fuerteventura

In addition to the Canary Islands, the port cities of Lisbon, Portugal, Funchal Madeira, and Cadiz, Spain, have a unique charm and history.

Funchal, Madeira

Lisbon, Portugal

The famous cakes across from the monastery--

Same architect as the one for the Golden Gate in San Francisco...

Cadiz, Spain

The Scenic Route

For the past few months, my VW and I have been doing our own version of 'Thelma & Louise' as we traveled from Indian Rocks Beach, Florida, to Austin, then Dallas, Texas; upward to Santa Fe, New Mexico; onward to Denver, Colorado, and then back through Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, and finally returning to the starting point.

The rest of the story can be found on my website here.

Santa Fe, NM

Indian Rocks Beach, FL

Route 285 to Colorado

Everything in Ruins: Greece, Croatia, and Cyprus

I’ve seen a few ruins over the years. Some have been dedicated sites, and more than a few were announced with dedicated plaques overshadowed by a multi-use high-rise in the name of progress. I am amazed when a city has encroached upon a famous monument, resulting in a flower-among-weeds landmark.

Limassol, Cyprus.

This was the case in places like Zadar, Croatia, and Kourion, Cyprus, where the effects of Moorish, Venetian, or Roman conquests attempt to blend into the scenery. If you lived near these places, it would just be the regular view on your daily commute. As a visitor from a relatively
young country, I enjoy this anachronistic blend of history with modern adaptation. An adaptation to what is there and what was meant to last gets repurposed or worked around, much like a scar becomes woven into one’s beauty and personality. 

When people travel, they look for what is similar because they notice what is not. Our history, and the history of those before us, shapes our perspective. We have worked around and adapted as best we could. Rather than harbor fear or disdain for the past, we can appreciate its contribution to our current perspective and look for how the contrast contributes to its beauty. It’s all about perspective.

Zadar, Croatia

Zadar, Croatia

Zadar inlet.

Zadar, Croatia, has a quiet, relaxing feel to it. I imagine the summer brings all types of city folks wanting to soak up the sun on its beautiful coast and eat olives all day [well, at least I would] and drink a real maraschino cherry liqueur. The olive trees and distant views of the famous Croatian mountains, and the fact that it is not currently as popular as its sister cities down
the coast, would make this a perfect vacation destination.

Limassol, Cyprus

Limassol, Cyprus.

In Limassol, Cyprus, the cobalt blue of the sky is breathtaking. It resembles the indescribable blue of the South Pacific and makes me appreciate the gift of sight. I also became captivated by the smells. It smells like summer, even in late fall: Warm grass, olive trees, and salt air.

The people seemed cautious in the city and curious in the countryside. In the city one could see the influences of Turkey, Greece, Italy, and Russia. A mosque shares an alleyway with a Greek Orthodox church. A street musician plays a sad melody in front of a store selling handcrafted leather items. Passersby drop coins and half-smoked cigarettes while locals haggle for bargains at the open-air market peddling dried fruit and olive oil on the corner. 

Ruins at Kourion in Cyprus.

Kolossi Castle, Cyprus.

Many Cypriots were displaced (by force) by the Turks who decided they wanted resort-like conditions for their military on the northern part of the island. Others have been displaced by rising prices caused by Russian billionaires buying up the property that locals can no longer afford because they entrusted their savings and retirement to the government, which invested in Greece. That has not been the most profitable economic trajectory over the past decade.  Resilient but cautious was a theme common to many places I visited. 

Kourion.

In the countryside, while exploring some paths behind a castle that may have sheltered Crusaders in former times, I met a grandma who insisted I have coffee at her friend’s house. I
noticed her wine gourd drying on a tree, and she was quite animated in explaining exactly how I could make my own. We could not use words, but gestures and a smile go a long way. I will have to update you on the progress of my own gourd someday...

Athens, Greece

Everywhere in Athens you could run into a ruin. You could walk past one to the corner store in a neighborhood, or head up to the Acropolis via narrow streets lined with orange trees. Despite a few “leftover” arches here and there, the Greeks found many ways to build up and around them in Athens. Considering that half of the 11 million people in all of Greece lives in this city, the people have to live somewhere. From the top of The Acropolis, though, you can imagine how the gods would have looked down on all that craziness and preferred the view from the top. 

The weather, like the gods’ humor, seemed quite
fickle. A little rain earlier in the morning made the concrete slabs a little slick. There are more rocks and rubble than tourists, and that would be saying a lot in the summer. The ruins have endured quite a bit over their lifetime, so lets hope they survive the average intelligence of some of the tourists I observed. 

After a while ruins and churches and temples and museums and … start to look the same. Except here. A slight shift in light or perspective changes the view and the wave of awe refreshes itself. Thank the gods there are not some giant condos and shopping malls going up here with a fabulous view of the Parthenon. 

Olympia, Greece

The Olympic Stadium!

Ruins galore! Columns galore. This would be a great place to play hide-and-seek. In addition to it being the site of the original Olympics [I believe they had sponsors even back then!], the architectural garden of columns overgrown with plants and vines, has a magical, meditative feel to it. While walking through the various sites, and enjoying the relative solitude [it is not crowded at all this time of year], it reminded me of walking a labyrinth. Compared to the craziness of Athens, Olympia offers a more peaceful, contemplative site.

You can take the train or a bus from the port city of Katakolon, which has markets, a typical white-washed church, and plenty of cafes with fresh local seafood, wine, yogurt, and honey. And, my favorite: Olives. ;-)

All Photos by Nicole D. Mignone. 2016. All Rights Reserved.

Nazareth & The Sea of Galilee

Street vendor stall in Nazareth

When I visited Nazareth and the Sea of Galilee last December, I thought it would be easy to share it with others through this blog. I usually allow a little time to pass, so I can revisit the experience through my photos, and then I set out to share the impressions that have lasted the longest or made the biggest impact. 

At first I blamed writer’s block and other obligations for my delay in writing about it. I have recently considered, though, that visiting these places, along with a few others on my trip last fall, was like a personal pilgrimage. No matter what I share, it has to be personally experienced to be appreciated. Even when I share the photos and a few remarkable facts, I could never fully describe the trip because these were not typical “vacation”spots to share. They affected me on a much deeper level.

Church of the Annunciation, Nazareth

Regardless of one’s religious upbringing and current spiritual practice, it would be difficult not to have expectations of the Sea of Galilee and Nazareth. It is similar to reading a book and formulating preconceived images in my mind, and then going to watch the movie. Often times, some parts I found important in the book were either left on the editor’s floor or never even included in the adaptation. It is not the same experience, and even when it exceeds expectations (like Peter Jackson’s Hobbit/Lord of the Rings interpretation), it can still be challenging to share all of that emotion in a way that another person would fully appreciate. Certain places must be experienced personally, without external influence.

The Church of the Beatitudes

So, last December, at the octaganol Church of the Beatitudes (one side for each beatitude),

This is the spot for the Sermon on the Mount

I stood in a beautiful meditation garden while overlooking the heart-shaped Sea of Galilee. The sunlight glistened on the water’s waves. It was peaceful. The farmer's field beneath the “mount” where Jesus delivered his famous speech remained bucolic, with a few cows, abandoned farm equipment, and grass. Something monumental happened here. And yet, life was normal. Sure, thousands of people from all over the world come to this site, this church, with their own expectations—seeking peace, redemption, answers, perhaps forgiveness, or perhaps nothing but the experience. And telling someone to go without expectations is like telling a child not to think about Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. You must go for yourself and show up as you are.

Church of the Beatitudes

The elegant Church of the Beatitudes, built here in commemoration of the Mount, was built in 1938 for a Franciscan order of nuns. As noted, each of the sides represents one of the Eight Beatitudes recited in that sermon, and around the church’s central altar inside, sits a mosaic of symbols representing the seven virtues (justice, charity, prudence, faith, fortitude, hope and temperance). 

Altar at Church of Beatitudes

The Sea of Galilee

The Sea

It is interesting to note that the Sea of Galilee is one of the lowest-lying bodies of water on earth (some 210 metres below sea level), and is actually fresh water, fed mostly by the Jordan River.  This is the place where Jesus calmed the storm, walked on water, and made a few sermons.

The Beatitudes

One of those popular sermons is The Sermon on the Mount, believed to be near where the Church of the Beatitudes now sits. 

The term beatitude comes from a latin word meaning “happiness.” The visit to this site, and the view, invoked a feeling of peace and serenity. Perhaps, this is what allows more happiness to come in!

Nazareth

City of Nazareth

At the risk of sounding irreverent, I admit my brain automatically started singing the opening lines of  The Band’s "The Weight" as soon as our tour bus stalled in traffic entering the city of Nazareth:

“I pulled into Nazareth, I was feelin’ ‘bout half-past dead….”

It had been a long day already, and internally, I had many expectations for what this famous city would look like. It is crowded. Narrow stone streets, with vendors selling rosaries and crosses could have been the same so many years ago. But giant buses full of tourists and honking cars likely were not.

The Cupola

The Church of the Annunciation, an architectural masterpiece, cannot be oversold: The art; the stained glass; the acoustics; the symbols; the energy; the music. All of it was sensory overload then, and remains so for me all these months later as I try to describe it.

On the day we visited a priest was delivering a sermon in Spanish to a group in the main chapel. The towering cupola almost hypnotizes with its lily-pattern. The stained glass throughout the church has the brightest, most vivid colors I have ever seen.

The church is built on a site believed to be the home of the Virgin Mary, where she was told at age 14 that she would become the mother of the son of God. There is a grotto enshrined in the lower level of the church to commemorate this site and event. 

Despite the long day and traffic, the visit to Nazareth revived me. So much hope, love, and peace radiate from this space. It is a great metaphor for how, despite what is going on in the external world, I can seek refuge to peace and calm within. 

Inside Church of the Annunciation

May you all be so blessed.

The Grotto

**All Photos by Nicole D. Mignone. 2016. All Rights Reserved.

Church of the Annunciation