Mayan Masterpiece

Chichén-Itzá – not to be confused with chicken at Itsu.

How can you say that you have been to the Yucatán peninsula if you’ve not visited the archaeological site of Chichén-Itzá? Drag yourself away from the white powdery beaches of the Mayan Riviera   and you will be blessed with an education about the classical and post classical periods of world history. It provides answers to a curiosity about the rise and fall of the Mayan, Toltec and the Mesoamerica civilisations and cultures.

I’m struggling to learn and understand the history of my own homeland, let alone delve into the history of another country, but isn’t this what travelling does to us? We get opportunities to learn and explore different cultures that have evolved and then shaped the world in which we live today. I confess that prior to this trip that the Mesoamerican era meant absolutely nothing to me, which is surprising as I had visited this place before. This trip fed that inquisitive instinct to learn about new places. To my way of thinking I feel like the explorers and pirates of yesteryear who set off not knowing what was over the horizon. The French, British and Spanish discovered much of the east coast of the Northern and central America, but it was the Spanish who arrived, explored and conquered the Yucatán peninsula.

When the name Chichén-Itzá is mentioned or searched then the Temple of Kukulkan immediately comes to mind. The temple that everyone is obsessed with is in the heart of the Chichén-Itzá site. Chichén-Itzá provides an obscure look into the history of Mayan. The site is still an active archaeological site with discoveries being made continually. Speaking to locals and reading different sources of information will provide the enquirer with many myths and mysteries of the site. Carlos, our guide on this trip, seemed to have his own versions and theories of what might have happened here, so it is very hard to understand what is true or not. He would always refer to his ‘beautiful picture’. A phrase to which he would continually return when he wanted to show a picture to support his theory.

The Temple of Kukulkan is undoubtedly the showpiece to the whole site. Steeped in much history, it’s the one thing that everyone comes to see, and why not? I’ve not seen the pyramids in Egypt so I cannot compare. The temple has an ability to cause some to stand in open mouthed awe. It is also known as El Castillo (the castle). It rises imperiously to a height of 94 feet. The gloriously steep pyramid displays the accuracy and importance of astronomyto the Maya. The perfect astrological design includes 4 staircases each with 91 steps that face the cardinal points. At the top platform you’ll find one platform (a final step) add that to the simple maths of 4 times 91 and you get 365. This combined with other features give you the Mayan calendar. You were once allowed to walk to the top, that privilege was taken away as the result of spring break misdemeanours. Twice a year an optical illusion takes place at sunrise when the sun casts a shadow on the northern side, which looks like a snake is slithering down the steps. This equinox happens twice a year in the spring and autumn. Those pesky American college kids mean that climbing to the top and inside is now prohibited, a great shame as there are rumours that a smaller pyramid lies inside.

If you can drag yourself away from the one thing everyone has come to see, in the main area you will notice to behind it what looks more like a temple known as the Temple of Warriors. This rectangular building has steps in the middle up to an area where a sculpture rests in between pillars. Again, access is denied, but at the bottom of the steps are several pillars. It is rumoured that there is a pillar for each one of 450 warriors, but our trip was short so we didn’t have time to prove if this true. My guess is that this number is purely mythical.

At the opposite end to the Temple of Warriors, lies the ball court. It is said that this is the largest ball court in the Mesoamerica area. Upon entering the theatre, you will be immediately drawn to the two rings situated in the walls on either side. How the game worked I still can’t understand but I believe the idea was to get the ‘ball’ through the ring on the wall. I think I’m right in thinking that the rules meant that no arms or legs were allowed to move the ball and was also played in the dark. Very strange especially when it is realised that the losers became a sacrificial offering. Can’t imagine too many wanting to take up that sport. Glad that we have moved on from those times.

My two visits have shown me what everyone comes to see. Longer time would be needed to explore the full site and see why this became a significant centre of political and economic power. Suburbs were built around the site, with connecting stone roads. Sadly, I leave this place, one of the seven new wonders of the modern world. I wish I had longer to explore the site and delve into the dark underground world of the Mayabut as I was a tourist, I was caught in the rat trap of tour agendas. Had I been in traveling mode I perhaps would have learnt so much more. So, I say, “Adios, Chichen-Itza”, and look forward to visiting another wonder of the world in the near future.

Magnificent Montréal

Founded on an island by the French in the 17th century on the confluence of the Rivers Ottawa and St. Lawrence is the Canadian city of Montréal. An incredible amalgamation of cultures cut a new identity in this modern Canadian landscape. What was once an economic powerhouse Montréal is now associated the harmonising of English and French speaking communities despite their obvious cultural differences. You’d think that there would be rigid divisions between these communities, but they’re one proud city.

 

I won’t focus on the cultural aspects but on old and new Montréal. I will be brief on the new as it is not my cup of tea. It possesses many of the issues seen all too frequently around the world -pollution, waste, drugs, ignorance, commercialisation and globalisation. I don’t know what the problems were when the new Montréal was built, but to be digging most of it up illustrates that planning and wastefulness is not a modern phenomenon. So lets put to bed my disdain of this area and focus on the area I loved.

Old Montréal has somehow managed to retain its character. The old town was established as a catholic village along the banks of the St. Lawrence river. Missionary efforts failed to flourish meaning it needed a new way to survive. That came, as so many places in Canada, through fur-trading. The wealth and prosperity that particular boom brought meant that fine stone buildings and houses were built. Montréal also established one of the most important inland harbours in North America by the 19th Century. Booms don’t and can’t last forever – world history testifies to that. Montreal was no exception. By the 20th century the city had fallen into decline. From 1980 the city has had its own renaissance. Many of the 18th century buildings were saved and given a new lease of life for what was built back then no longer fitted in with what is needed today.

What there is now is a remarkable combination of old and new, as restaurants, bistros and boutiques merge with wonderful architecture. Yes, you still have your tourist shops, littered with ‘Canadian’ products made in China. My suggestion is to search for and buy the authentic Canadian goods that may be found on the shelves. A conversation ensued with the shop keeper, but I soon ran out of what little French I know though not before he had accepted payment from my credit card. It was then that he changed to English to say something about his wife once working for English speakers.

Canada doesn’t do the “pubs” to which I am accustomed. Invariably the establishments that exist are bar/restaurants with the main focus on food. I had some puzzled looks as I would just enter and only want a beer. One must indulge in some of Montreal’s cuisine, poutine and (a recommendation) a smoked meat sandwich.

The architecture is similar to that in Quebec City (French influence) and was a pleasure to study. The Notre Dame Basilica is worth the entrance fee. As you step into this cathedral, be amazed by the almost ocean looking sanctuary and altar piece. The cathedral probably survives on those entrance fees and not from contributions from regular and faithful attendees. It is the same the world over but aren’t we glad that these places are preserved even if they resemble museums and sometimes even mausoleums. Down the rue Notre-Dame (one could be mistaken for thinking one was in Paris) the Hôtel de Ville captures your attention before Montréal’s own Nelson’s column takes your eye. Ignore the wonderful street entertainers, (for a second you might think you were in Covent Garden in London) and question why it is that one of England’s most famous seamen has a statue there. This evidence confirms the sense of intertwined cultures that have shaped this city.

The aforementioned harbour is no longer the trading post it once was. Now it has undergone serious modernisation as the entertainment features that the youth of today crave have sprung up to ensure its sustainability. A railway line runs parallel with the river and splits the glorious old town from this modern hub of craziness. An entrance to Chapelle Notre Dame-de-Bonsecours provides a view of this divide between the harbour and old Montreal. As you stand there and look across old Montreal you could be mistaken for thinking that you are looking across a city in Europe, as spires, domes and religious buildings dominate the skyline.

Before I left this city, there were still two places that I felt must be visited. A walk to Mont Royal and Oratoire Saint Joseph. I’d been to both before, but both places should be considered on a first visit to the city. On arriving in the city in glorious sunshine I dumped my bags and hiked up “la montagne”. This urban escape provides Montrealers with some much-needed green space in the city. Standing at only 234m high, nature manages to provide the city’s best view point. Oratoire Saint Joseph is perhaps the perfect spot to watch the sunset in the city. After climbing the 283 steps to the top I sat amazed as the sun set. Witnessing behaviour that perhaps wasn’t in tone with the location, it was still a romantic end for my visit to the city.

I’d been before, but Magnificent Montréal, you were worth the second visit.

Vancouver Vanity

I’d heard so much of this city prior to arriving there! In this modern world it’s hard to ignore the information and opinions that are so readily available. Sadly, with access to all that knowledge and information at the tips of my fingers, I wish I hadn’t read or believed what I read! Sadly, preparation can lead, transmogrify even, into expectations. It is my sad experience that expectation all too often leads to disappointment. They tell me that Vancouver is one of the best cities in the world in which to live. So, I arrived in the city full of hope only for those expectations to dissipate on sight of the place. I left underwhelmed. Let me elaborate and give another take on Vancouver.

Vancouver’s is set at the bottom of the mountains that almost rise from the sea and this means that land is at a premium resulting, predictably for these parts, in heavily populated skyscrapers. Vancouver is similar to New York in this respect with both places dominated by ugly skyscrapers. NYC may be a concrete jungle, but Vancouver is like a solar farm of glass. I struggled to find Vancouver’s heart and soul and had real issues trying to identify with the city. I realise that I am starting to sound a bit like our Prince Charles and his famous use of the phrase ‘monstrous carbuncle’ in relation to what was then modern architecture. I am amazed to discover that it is 35 years since he made his speech. The city lacked any form of cultural identity, yet another of these modern cities around the world. Was this characterless jungle due to the city’s relatively young age? Was it its multicultural population (surely this should give rise to diversity in design?)? Was it its modernity? Did I react to its drug smelling community? Was it the dirt and smell that got to me? I’m searching for the answers as to why I was disappointed.

 

Its location is prime for exporting Canadian products to Asia. This results in a busy and productive port and many photographic opportunities of dirty great boats waiting in the harbour. The recurring theme from this trip has surely to be about how we are damaging the world. As photogenic as these colourful behemoths were, the sight of them was a massive reminder the damages being caused.

The bays represent the mouth of Vancouver. The boats sail past the lungs of the city – Stanley Park. The green space there perhaps provides the heart, Downtown, its much-needed oxygen to breathe. Although the trees lined along the roads in parts of Downtown provide tiny air-sacks they are trapped by the glass monstrosities above.

South from Stanley Park, following the edge of the bay, leads to my favourite area of the city. As English Bay leads to False Creek, there are a number of sheltered harbours, lovely walks, idyllic “bars” and views aplenty. This really is the best of Vancouver. Why everyone isn’t at Sunset Beach in the evening I will never know as the sun paints the sky a crimson orange and it provides the perfect spot to relax and reflect.

As for the rest of main Vancouver – the suburbs of Gastown, Yaletown and Downtown in particular – which I had hoped to deliver so much, all failed spectacularly. Dirt, smell, homelessness, litter – it was far from the spectacular impression that had been created in my mind. At times I thought, ‘Am I actually walking around in a Canadian city?’ The city boasts one of the largest Chinatowns in North America, an area of no personal interest, but adds to the common lack of English being spoken. What is becoming noticeable in cities these days is the alarming number of homeless people and Vancouver was no exception but the scale of it here is greater than that seen in any other city visited recently. Are drugs the cause? The addicts’ erratic behaviour and way of survival wasn’t pleasant to see and was there for all to see. Is this now a global problem that is spiralling upwards in terms of quantity of addicts and spiralling downwards in terms of ambiance quality? Or are such people victims of a society that places so much store by work and wealth creation leading to the polarisation of its members. Perhaps a lot of the misery is self-inflicted but the juxtaposition of clinical, pristine, shiny, corporation buildings and the filthy conditions in downtown Vancouver is horrendous.

North of the city the Seabus (not a ferry) operates across to Lynn Quay. An up and coming area with a charming market, restaurants and a lovely view of the cityscape. It was from here I was recommended to get the bus to Lynn Canyon. Well worth it with free entry an added bonus.

South of the city water taxis work around the heavily populated harbour. I didn’t take advantage but rather stretched my legs and walked both sides. There are three main bridges providing both pedestrians and vehicles a way across the water. At the far end is the BC place stadium, a truly soulless place. Home to the Whitecaps, it seems an expensive place for just “football”. I hope other sports use and fill it to capacity to generate the atmosphere it warrants for its considerable investment.

So as my time in Vancouver comes to end, I head back to Sunset Beach to watch the sun set yet again. The train ride across Canada awaits. Vancouver, I’m sorry, I still can’t work out what all the fuss is about.

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

Whistle stop Winnipeg

This great Canadian railway odyssey has thrown up many delightful charms and none more so than the City of Winnipeg. There is more to come.

Situated in the heart of Canada, you can begin to see why it’s such a strategic location. It’s remarkable to think I never really knew of its existence! It’s perhaps the combination of the lack of expectation and knowledge that give these delightful discoveries such unbridled joy.

Blessed in glorious spring sunshine but with rumours of -2°C outside the train, I disembarked and went off in search of new found discoveries. My time was limited as after all we were on a railway adventure. A quick dash soon led me to the river. The river provides the backdrop for most of the history associated with the city. In fact there is a confluence of two rivers (Red and Assiniboine) which is referred to locally as ‘The Forks’. It was here that I was able to capture the skyline of the city and found some prose about freedom based on gulls seen as a youngster with her mother at Provencher Bridge in a work entitled Street of Riches by Gabrielle Roy.

“Toward the middle of the Provencher Bridge,
Maman and I found ourselves surrounded by sea gulls;
they flew low over the Red River.
Maman took my hand and clasped it tight,
as though to convey to me a movement of her soul.
A hundred times a day Maman got a lift of joy from the world around us;
sometimes it was nothing more than the wind or the flight of a bird that delighted her.
Leaning on the parapet we watched the gulls for a long while.
And all of a sudden, on that bridge, Maman told me that she would like to be able to go whenever and wherever she might choose.”

Over on the other side I was immediately drawn to a graveyard housing a good number of grave stones and which led you along a path to a ruined church/cathedral! I was fascinated to see these ruins, the result of a fire that destroyed the building in the 1970s. A more modern church has been built behind the ruins which have remained as part of the architect’s new vision of the church, a phoenix from the ashes if you like.

To the right of this is a charming house, which is now a museum. Sat in front of it is a statue to Louis Riel. Louis led the Red Rebellion for the local provisional government against the growing number of newcomers from Eastern Canada. Garnet Wolseley was sent to crush the rebellion – there was no evidence of him here!! This rebellion resulted in Manitoba then becoming the fifth province of Canada.

As time was short, a quick dash along the river and back to the station was made. Around the concert area which led back to the train station there were some old Canadian Pacific carriages resting in the car park. Other parts of the city’s history which are relevant is Bloody Saturday (100th anniversary this year). After the First World War, the city had many men return form the war and looking for work. It was felt that opportunities had been taken by immigrants and this, coupled with a feeling that there had been profiteering from the war by many companies without passing on some of the benefits to the workforce leading to low wages led to the strike of 1919. This ended in tragedy when two people with non-Canadian sounding names were killed by the mounted Canadian police. So this beautiful stop provided some memorable moments and some information for my further interest. It shall be that inquisitive nature that shall lead me to explore this place further upon coming back – apparently the market is a must!!

Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Niagara Galls

The next stop on my railway odyssey took me back to Niagara Falls. I shouldn’t have put myself through the pain and expense of travelling there again for once you have seen them, you have seen them. I mean they haven’t changed in the 3 years since I was last here. It is true to say that they are powerful falls, but they seemed slightly debilitated, perhaps by the freezing ice and snow (still around at the end of April). The falls seemed crestfallen as though their aura and might had been negated. A sense of slumber hung around the area. We had heard and read from fellow travellers that the sound of the mighty power of the falls may be heard from miles away and we listened out as we walked from the train station. Was the expected noise missing due to the snow and ice on the falls? Did the ice in effect reduce the distance that the water had to fall or dampen or deaden its impact? Was the noise lost to the hubbub of the town coming to life after a winter of hibernation? Other people had come to see the iconic falls – I wonder if they shared the sense of anti-climax views that I felt.

On a bitterly cold day, we should have made for Niagara-by-the-lake for some poetic distractions to kill the time. Rumours of its beauty make me inclined to think that a visit there should outweigh one to its famous neighbour, but, sadly, this is only a whisper known by few and isn’t to be found all over the net. Instead, and foolishly, we made do with entertaining ourselves in Canada’s Las Vegas.

A trip up the skylon tower does provide a panoramic view of both falls and is a rather pleasantly to see the panorama without getting too cold. Of course, it has gimmicks – our Japanese and Chinese friends must be entertained! There is the inevitable and, these days, ubiquitous revolving restaurant to enjoy. Clearly not of those who wanted to spin while eating but who perhaps could have been tempted, we were ushered into a corner to enjoy a beer (I guess our lack of appetite and the fact that we were no more than potential business candidates meant that we were not deemed worthy of the environment). We enjoyed our Canadian beers, but their assumptions cost them dear as our bill could have been so much more.

We left in search of a pub (or sportsbar as they are called this side of the ocean) hoping to watch the football. We were sent to the playground of far too many. In hope more than anticipation we tried to find something that might show the footie. No success, we ended up in a casino bar. Here we received a warm welcome, from people thinking that they had found another couple of deluded humans hoping to win their fortune. I mean the odds really are stacked against you, aren’t they? Who did they think we were? A few drinks and, by now, some much-needed food were consumed while the staff tried to work out how to display the football on the TV!! It never materialised – something about TV rights issues. This was all very hard to believe when it’s the international community that pays so heavily for our football rights. Thankfully the time had come for our train out of there – a buddy in Toronto awaited before the main event was due to commence. Hastily we made tracks in the pouring rain for the station.

Niagara, never again.

Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada

New York, New York

Normally I take myself away at Christmas. This year, due to the financial climate and it being a tough year, I’m staying at home. The family is delighted. My intention is to use these unusual circumstances to catch up on some blog writing although I can be easily distracted. The first one on my ‘to do list’ was from a trip made two years ago to New York at Christmas time!!! Normally, I love to get away to the sun, but, due to an action packed 2016, I had left it too late to organise a trip to some exotic location. So, after some quick research, I got a good flight deal and booked an AirBnB and I was sorted.

Often referred to as the greatest city in the world, I had to see if there was any truth in this. After spending a week in between Christmas and New Year in this iconic destination, I left soul searching and reflecting at the failure, on some levels, of a failed Christmas getaway. A lover of all genres of music, sadly the one that sticks in my mind is Jay-Z’s rap ‘concrete jungle where dreams are made of’. To my mind there is no better way to describe the place. Its bright lights were wasted on me; the main island was devoid of any natural beauty and was a fitting illustration of the faceless, globalisation and destruction of the modern world. People and cars fight like animals for their ownership of the jungle; the famous yellow taxis swarm about like bees, advertisements crawl like weeds over the towering, tree like skyscrapers but shorn of any branches. As animals (and some humans) worry about their habit becoming extinct, perhaps the never-ending building works crystallises those concerns.

My arrival in America via New York was not at all friendly or very warm which, considering this is one of the most visited places on earth, was incredibly surprising. Are tourists so excited to be here that they are blinded and unable to see this unwelcoming sight? Police, guns, dogs etc.  – as cold and unwelcoming as the airport was (in particular the passport control) the complete opposite could have been said of my AirBnB hosts whose warm and friendly kindness will never be forgotten. They patiently waited for my arrival and duly welcomed me into their family home and made me a part of it as they celebrated Christmas. This is the one extremely positive side to my time in New York and must offset my lack of enthusiasm for the city itself. Maybe teenagers and wannabees can hack it, but I couldn’t.

It is sometimes described as the financial capital of the world and this is reflected in the lifestyle of the city’s inhabitants/commuters.  Comparisons could easily be made to parts of London but somehow, despite the similar, relentless, pursuit of money and the ‘benefits’ that it brings, there is a charm about London that doesn’t exist in NYC. The financial sector of any city seems a million miles from the reality of which I am accustomed. A city where money talks, everything seemed overpriced and so far-fetched. Stumbling upon the financial district after a long and beautiful stroll along the river, I had completely forgotten the tragic events that stopped, captivated and changed the world forever in 2001. Perhaps because it is relatively modern history it seems to attract more interest especially from the younger element. It was a tragic day – there is no denying that. I can recall that fateful day as an adolescent 15 year old, coming in from school and hearing the sad news beating over the radio. I was blissfully unaware at that time of the seriousness of that event; surprisingly, I found that I had little interest in the ‘ground zero’ memorial. The very title seems to demean the catastrophe. Perhaps all this is a selfish coping mechanism for the sad state of affairs that exists in this world and I care to forget about it to concentrate on the good things to enjoy.

The city is alive with hustle and bustle. This is not an attractive atmosphere as its over-crowded sidewalks is but one of its many problems. There are too many cars are on the roads and a failed pedestrian crossing system exacerbated the feeling that not enough care had been taken for those who wanted to get around the jungle by foot. The dirt and smell just adds rancour for a place that is too congested and far too big for itself.

I’m sure that people will rave about the Christmas decorations and, while I wouldn’t disagree that they were often spectacular, their appeal didn’t stretch as far as me and sadly are a confirming sign of the commercialisation and forgetting of yet another religious festival. Frankly, what have nutcracker figurines to do with Christmas?

My love for a pint is probably well known by all and the local brew is always sampled on my travels. As pubs seem to be closing at an alarming rate back home, it also seemed a real struggle to find a proper bar in NYC. Drinking on the other side of the ocean was a complete eye opener for me, waitressing/tipping etc. and one that I still can’t get my head around.

I think we can all agree that my passion for sport is second to none. I felt it was only right that I got to enjoy some of the sport the city has to offer. I was desperate to see a NFL game. I wanted to witness and work out what the fascination with this sport was. I mean they call it football but predominantly use their hands!! Instead I had to settle for a ticket to the famous Madison Square Gardens to watch the NY Rangers host an ice hockey game. Their opposition was the Ottawa Senators, the only hockey team I had really heard about, and I was a proud owner of their jersey. Sadly, my jersey stayed hidden in my bag as I was unsure whether opposing supporters mixed in.

There were 3 things that stuck out for me. Firstly the lack of atmosphere was sobering. Secondly, the need for a time out when there are 2 intervals seemed over the top and timewasting. Finally, the fact that the broadcaster could stop a game for an advert break beggared belief!!! Attending football matches back home I couldn’t understand how the NY experience lacked singing before/during/after the game and only a cheer when a goal was scored. Everything seemed flat. People were more worried about capturing the event on their phone and what little atmosphere there was had to be generated by a deafening music system, flashing lights and a DJ. It’s getting a bit like it over here now with the emphasis on money and money making. English football is going the same way as our increasing number of American owners influence our great game. Not understanding the rules of the sport I couldn’t work out why timeouts were/are needed full stop. When I was informed that the broadcasters had put a pause in play for adverts I was aghast. This confirmed my long-established opinion that, as great as TV coverage is, it has ruined sport. I left not really sure what I had witnessed but I am given to understand it was a 4-3 win for the Rangers.

Travelling has always provided the opportunity to meet new people and it was with great pleasure I could catch up with one here. My fellow traveling buddy suggested watching a show. How incredible and now I can tick this experience off the list. The choice of Broadway show was ‘The Colour of Purple’. It was a slight struggle to understand it but didn’t deter from an excellent spectacle played out by a superb cast giving a great performance. I was mesmerised as I had to concentrate so much on trying to understand the language/accent being used. Afterwards I was taken to Times Square – this gimmick may be for the modern fool, but I am not one. I obliged for the customary and mandatory photo and couldn’t wait to get out of there.

I think that, looking back, my favourite part of New York City was pier 16! What was perhaps once the arrival dock for all boats was a fascinating take on the city’s past. New York was once the arrival destination for those who harboured thoughts of chasing the American dream and in their pursuit of this had arrived on these shores.

What was once perhaps the gateway to America, the place where all your dreams were to come true, your ship would have passed France’s gift to the New York landscape, the Statue of Liberty. Not that inspiring, but good views can be accessed from the Staten Island ferry if you don’t want to pay the fee to visit. And as for American dreams, do these even exist anymore?

So, my first visit to America didn’t make a good impression, I was very glad to leave, and let’s hope that the next time is a more positive experience.

City of trees!

 

My latest adventure has been across the Atlantic to the southern state of Georgia, and to its capital city, Atlanta. Atlanta was established and expanded on a railway terminus, burnt and buried during the Civil War, and raised and resurrected into one of America’s leading cities. It has played a role in both its own country’s and international history and it looks like becoming America’s largest city in the near future. Travel has been at the very forefront of its existence, although the railway barely exists anymore and in its place is the world’s biggest airport. I left this place with more interest than when I arrived. I wonder should I have spent a little longer there.

Atlanta’s layout puzzled me. I am used to cities that expand from their centres. Atlanta was so much different. It is so vast, so separated, its communities seemed to be so far apart, with trees spread in between.  Perhaps this is evidence of segregation (maybe something to do with its past history). These partings were clear from any view point as trees separated the skyline of each part of town. An initiative to help protect the trees has led to it being called ‘city within a forest’. I guess that as cities have expanded at an alarming rate they have become a cluster of cities rather than just a city on its own.

Atlanta, and perhaps the rest of America seem to be light years behind in terms of looking after the world in which live. We should all be doing, much more to look after this world. There was so much waste, and when I offered to put stuff in the recycling I was told that we don’t have that here! I was more than a little amazed. The city has finally started to embrace the cycling craze that seems to have taken over Britain as it starts to build the BeltLine, currently in its infancy, which I believe will circle the entire city at some point and offer the chance to explore on bikes; such a brilliant idea.

My trip was a combination of southern hospitality, entertainment and activity in the city and surrounding areas. I was amazed and surprised at so many things – the amount of natural wildlife living in the city, the fact that the escalator takes a trolley on its own, you can get a cup cake from an ATM and you can leave your car on the motorway when broken down for a number of days – are but a few of the surprising things I witnessed.

I participated in the local activity of ‘shoot the hooch’ on the Chattahoochee River although before my arrival I had christened it ‘Chase the goose’. I got that wrong. I prepared for my day of chasing the goose but I ended up shooting the hooch. I eventually embraced the cold water, riding my Lilo christened Penelope and fuelled by some wine. We bumped and beached our way down the Chattahoochee River. We watched the locals get stuck which made our amateurish appearance seem okay. It calmed down and I was able to fully enjoy an Atlanta tradition – Dilly Dilly (see Budweiser advert).

On reflection, perhaps the best moments of my trip weren’t those that involved paying out money for entertainment, (although it was pretty cool to experience a drive through cinema), but those adventures spent outside, hiking and exploring. Taking the less travelled path, proved to be true as our unexplored pathway was blocked by a wild tortoise. I am still bewildered at the vast amounts of nature on display everywhere I looked.

As the football craze takes over in America (I refuse to call it soccer), I was lucky enough to attend a MLS game. The standard of football was poor, but the crowd did their best to generate a lively atmosphere in what was an impressive and enormous stadium.

If you are going to spend money on one of the many attractions the city has to offer, take a trip to the Civil Rights museum. Its neighbouring giants didn’t tempt me in, and probably wouldn’t have given me the educational and powerful experience that this place did. It opened my eyes to a part of history, of which I was blissfully unaware and that still seems to crop up in the news these days. It left me wanting to know about this rather than just knowing those famous words – ‘I have a dream’.