Tag: Dog

Meeting Our First Grandchild

Fruita, Colorado – November 21, 2018

Our first grandchild, Michael, was born at virtually the same time as when I landed in La Paz, Bolivia for the first time. He was born while his father was at sea. On Veterans Day; father, mother, and baby were finally reunited.

Shortly before Tyler returned from deployment, he said he and his family planned a trip to Colorado around the Thanksgiving holiday. With that knowledge, I was able to make arrangements to leave work for a little over a week and head to Colorado.

The anticipation was enormous! I had not seen my wife for nearly four months because she had been in Colorado. I had not seen Tyler, Hillary, or the rest of my family for close to 15 months. I had never met Tyler’s wife, Victoria, and, of course, I had only seen Michael in photographs.

My countdown for my Colorado homecoming finally made it to mere hours as I sat at home on the evening of November 19. My taxi was due to pick me up at about 00:15 on the morning of the 20^th.

Right on time, my taxi arrived. I was tired because I had only dozed while waiting. Regardless, I wheeled my luggage, laden with Bolivian gifts, to the curbside, and placed it in the rear of the car. The woman who was my driver spoke virtually no English. But even with me being 90 percent illiterate in Spanish, we were able to communicate. One of her first questions to me, in Spanish, was whether I wanted her to go via the Llojetta route or take the Autopista. I said I did not care, and it was up to her as the driver. She selected the Llojetta route.

When we turned off of Avenida Costanera onto Avenida Mario Mercado, we began our climb to El Alto. We went up and up. In fact, there seemed to be no end to up. The only difference in our climb was when we encountered a speed bump or a sharp hairpin turn. Other than that, it was all up! Because of the steep road, much of that part of the journey was in second gear.

Our house in La Paz is at 11,180 feet (3,408 meters). The El Alto International Airport is at 13,300 feet (4,054 meters); quite an altitude gain.

We finally crested onto the top of the El Alto mesa. There were still several more kilometers to go to get to the El Alto International Airport, but at least it was all reasonably level.

It was around 01:00 when we arrived at the airport. I paid my 200 Bolivianos (US$29), took my baggage, and went inside the terminal. By 01:40, my check-in was complete. Ten minutes later, I was at my gate, waiting patiently for my 04:30 flight to Lima, Peru. That flight was right on time.

About an hour and one-half later, the plane landed at the Jorge Chavez International Airport in Lima, Peru. Since I was merely transiting Lima, I did not have to go through passport control. However, I did have to go back through security screening. I left the screening area after a very brief wait and made my way to Friday’s for breakfast. I must have been hungry because it tasted so delicious.

Departing the restaurant, I made my way to the gate for my flight to Orlando, Florida. I arrived early. I watched as the security and airline personnel set up another security screening area at the gate. This is standard practice for a flight departing an international location, heading to a United States airport. Once again, I had no issues and a very short wait for the screening.

Soon after the screening, the airline employees began to scan the passengers’ boarding passes and allow us onto the waiting bus. When the bus was full, we rode to the waiting Latam aircraft. Onboard the plane, I settled into my seat and waited for the five and one-half hour flight to begin. It ended up being a comfortable and uneventful flight.

Passing the Florida coastline on the way to Orlando.

Once I was off the plane in Orlando, Florida, I went to passport control. As usual, that was a breeze. I waited in the Customs area for my one bag to come off the plane. My customs form dutifully filled out in detail, rested in my pocket. I lifted my bag from the carousel and went to the exit. I did not see anyone collecting the Customs forms. I asked a passing Customs officer to whom I should give my paper. She said they no longer use those forms…

To get to my next gate, I had to exit the terminal. That meant I had to go back through a security screening. I usually have TSA Pre-Check status on my boarding pass. The boarding pass issued by Latam in Bolivia did not have that notation as the lady at the TSA Pre-Check line pointed out to me. She said I could go to a nearby kiosk and try printing another boarding pass. I declined. That ended up to be an error in judgment.

I entered the line for security screening. Today was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving in Orlando, Florida. By the way, Orlando is home to Disney World. The screening area was absolutely packed with holiday travelers and many, many families sporting Disney World attire. The line snaked back and forth for a distance at least equal to the steep road to El Alto.

I found myself sandwiched in the line between two of the Disney World families. The family behind me had a child in a stroller. I lost count of the number of times the stroller bumped into the back of my legs. The family in front of me was a husband, wife, and two children in the eight-year-old range. I am not sure just how much of their home they brought with them or how much of Florida they were trying to take back to their home, but I did not know TSA had that many plastic x-ray bins. I pictured myself finally approaching the x-ray conveyor, looking wistfully at an automaton TSA employee, and merely shrugging my shoulders because there were no more bins in the entire zip code. Somehow, additional containers did show up. When I could finally approach the conveyor, I placed my items in the bin (note that word is not plural) and stepped through security. At this point, I request the reader to stop, take a deep breath, sigh, and revel in my successful trip through the Orlando security checkpoint. I celebrated the fact that there was no bruising on the back of my legs from the stroller.

Quite blissful, I made my way to Ruby Tuesday for a well-deserved glass of sauvignon blanc and chicken sandwich.

My last flight of the day was to Dallas, Texas. I quickly boarded the plane and had a relatively quick trip to DFW. The flight arrived in Dallas at about 23:05 Bolivian time. I could not make it to my final destination because there were no more flights to Grand Junction that day.

I waited at the baggage carousel to collect my bag. With my suitcase in tow, I walked to the lower level, called the Marriott for a shuttle, and waited. I made it to the hotel at about 00:00 Bolivian time. That meant I had been traveling for about 24-hours. I was delighted to lie down and sleep.

Early the next morning I got back on a shuttle and went back to the airport. I checked my bag, grabbed some breakfast, and found my gate, D14. While I was sitting at the gate, I saw a plane arrive. The plane stopped short of the jet bridge because the ground crew was not there to guide the aircraft. After 10 or 12 minutes, the ground crew arrived and guided the plane to a proper stop. Just as that happened, I received a text on my phone. With about 45 minutes left before my flight was to begin boarding, the departure gate changed to Terminal C. That was disheartening. However, it turned out to be ok because I did not have to go back through security.

A wishbone sculpture in one of the DFW terminals. It seemed appropriate for Thanksgiving!

An American Eagle plane arriving at D14. I mistakenly thought this would be my plane to Grand Junction, Colorado.

The pilots waiting patiently for a ground crew to guide them to D14.

At the new gate, I boarded the plane, sat back for a smooth ride, and was in Grand Junction by 10:30 local time, Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving.

Leslie and Hillary met me at the airport. Soon we were in Fruita, Colorado, Lorraine’s home, the base of operations for this high-level visit. I began eating my way across Colorado with some Gardetto’s Snack Mix, one of my favorite things on this planet. We busied ourselves with last-minute preparations for Tyler, Victoria, and, of course, Michael.

On the morning of Thanksgiving Day, we drove to the airport to pick up the newest members of our family, Victoria and Michael. We quickly caught a glimpse of the proud papa, Tyler, carrying our very first grandchild, Michael. We very happily saw, met, and hugged our new daughter-in-law Victoria too. It was so lovely to have them at the same place on Earth as Leslie and me.

Once we were back in Fruita, poor Michael was passed around like a rugby ball…well, we did not toss him around; but he indeed found his way to many people at the house! Hillary and Shane stopped by so, now the only couple missing was great-grandma and great-grandpa Juvera. That was remedied the next morning when they arrived at the airport. Suddenly Michael had two more fans to whom he could be passed.

Great-grandma and Michael…oh, and Bella.

Grandma holding her dear, sweet grandson.

If one wants a good selfie, don’t let the grandpa take it!!

Auntie Hillary with her newest nephew, Michael.

Since everyone was finally together, Friday was Bolivian Santa day. I had brought gifts from Bolivia for everyone. There was Bolivian chocolate for each family. The guys received wallets, alpaca socks, t-shirts, key chains, a refrigerator magnet, and a Marine Security Guard Detachment coin. Everything was from Bolivia. The women received hand-woven, baby alpaca shawls. The remainder of Friday was spent visiting with all of our family.

It was also an Ugly Christmas Sweater day. Hillary had purchased ugly Christmas sweaters for all of us. I set up the tripod, and we captured the moments.

Gifts from Bolivia and happy recipients. These are mantillas or shawls.

The family reunion photo with ugly Christmas sweaters provided by Hillary. From left to right is Lorraine, Victoria, Tyler with Michael, Terry (your humble writer), Leslie, Hillary, Shane, Joleen, and Claude.

Great-grandma Joleen and great-grandpa Claude joined in the photo.

Great-grandma Lorraine joined in the photo.

Grandpa and grandma with number one grandson, Michael.

Saturday was a day for more visiting with relatives. Early that morning, Tyler, Victoria, and I stopped at the Aspen Street Coffee Company to get some go-juice. Later in the day, Tyler and I went to the barn to sort through some of his stuff. In one of the boxes, he found his baby blanket! That is now 25 years old! It seemed strangely appropriate now that Michael is on the scene.

Inside the Aspen Street Coffee Company in Fruita, Colorado.

The proud papa displaying his newly discovered baby blanket from a quarter-century ago!

Just as important was the preparation of our Thanksgiving meal. That evening, I took the opportunity to take a selfie of the group. It may not be the best photograph, but it will forever mean a lot to me. Michael is just off-camera in his bouncy chair.

On an evening trip through the town center of Fruita, I was struck by the beautiful Christmas lights on display. I had never seen that before.

The Christmas lights in downtown Fruita, Colorado looking west.

The Christmas lights in downtown Fruita, Colorado looking east.

A Christmas bicycle in Fruita, Colorado.

Sunday morning, Leslie and I took great-grandma and great-grandpa Juvera back to the airport for their return to Colorado Springs.

One morning in Fruita, it was cold and foggy. I looked outside and saw there was a beautiful frost on nearly everything. That meant it was a great time to go out with my camera.

View of a fence post with frost in Fruita, Colorado.

Fog, fence, trees, and a paddock in Fruita, Colorado.

Fog, fence, and trees in Fruita, Colorado.

Detail of frost on a top-rail of a fence in Fruita, Colorado.

Frost on the top rail of a fence in Fruita, Colorado.

Fog as seen through a very frosty and somewhat symmetrical gate in Fruita, Colorado.

Detail of a very frosty and somewhat symmetrical gate in Fruita, Colorado.

Looking toward a barn gate in Fruita, Colorado.

Another frosty plastic hay bale tie in Fruita, Colorado.

A frosty fence at a horse paddock in Fruita, Colorado.

Detail of frost on a plastic hay bale tie in Fruita, Colorado.

Frost on a plastic hay bale tie in Fruita, Colorado.

Frost on a fence and weed in Fruita, Colorado.

Frost on the bare branches of a globe willow in Fruita, Colorado.

Detail of frost on the bare branches of a globe willow in Fruita, Colorado.

A frosty water spigot in Fruita, Colorado.

Frost, fog, and trees in Fruita, Colorado.

Frost on an evergreen tree in Fruita, Colorado.

Detail of frost on an evergreen tree in Fruita, Colorado.

Once the fog lifted, one could see that the Colorado National Monument had received some snow. I was very picturesque as seen from Fruita.

A view of snow on the Colorado National Monument.

Looking toward the Colorado National Monument, one can see the Independence Monument.

A closer view of the Independence Monument.

Since Victoria had never been to Colorado, we had to take her to the Colorado National Monument. At the entry station, the ranger told us no Desert Bighorn Sheep had been spotted that day; however, we should stay alert. There was a chance we might see some.

We drove up to the visitor center, stopping periodically to view sights from the various overlooks. At the visitor center, we stopped to go inside and explore. We also stepped out to the Canyon Rim Trail to look down into the adjoining canyon.

Looking across the Colorado River Valley from the Colorado National Monument.

Tyler and Victoria at the Colorado National Monument.

A jet passing by the Balanced Rock formation in the Colorado National Monument.

A closer view of the Balanced Rock in the Colorado National Monument.

Pointing the way to the Canyon Rim Trail near the visitor center in Colorado National Monument.

A view of a cliff from the Canyon Rim Trail overlook.

A twisted cedar tree in Colorado National Monument.

Detail of the sandstone bricks used in the construction of the visitor center in the Colorado National Monument.

A red sandstone cliff near the visitor center of the Colorado National Monument.

Back in the vehicle, we continued toward the East Entrance to the Colorado National Monument. I was driving and focused on the road. Suddenly Leslie shouted there was a sheep alongside the road! Sure enough, a Desert Bighorn Sheep ewe was lying beside the road, casually chewing her cud. I stopped immediately. Tyler, Victoria, and I piled out to take photographs. Just as we finished, I saw another vehicle approaching. They were slowing to take photos as we had done.

A Desert Bighorn Sheep along the road in the Colorado National Monument.

A closer view of the Desert Bighorn Sheep in the Colorado National Monument.

There was an inch or two of snow in places at the Colorado National Monument.

Looking across the canyon to the Canyon Rim Trail.

View of the Independence Monument from Otto’s trailhead in the Colorado National Monument.

A closer view of the Independence Monument from Otto’s trailhead in the Colorado National Monument. The Grand Mesa is in the distance.

Snow, cedar, and pines in the Colorado National Monument.

Mountains in the distance as seen from the Colorado National Monument.

Detail of a cedar tree in the Colorado National Monument.

A dead cedar tree in front of a Mormon Tea plant in the Colorado National Monument.

Independence Monument and the view looking north and west from the Colorado National Monument.

A closer view of the Independence Monument in the Colorado National Monument. The town in the background is Fruita, Colorado.

Continuing our eastward journey, I was surprised at how much snow there was on the road. By the time we got to the East Entrance, the road was completely dry.

When we left the Colorado National Monument, we called Hillary and Shane to tell them we were on the way to the Dinosaur Journey Museum in Fruita. They met us there. For the meager entry fee, a visit to the museum is a must if one is in the area. The interpretive and interactive displays help put the prehistoric history of the area into perspective.

The truck outside the Dinosaur Journey Museum in Fruita, Colorado.

One of the displays in the Dinosaur Journey Museum in Fruita, Colorado.

In the Dinosaur Journey Museum in Fruita, Colorado. This is where the work of exposing fossils takes place.

A rather gruesome depiction of mealtime in the Dinosaur Journey Museum in Fruita, Colorado.

A depiction of a stegosaurus in the Dinosaur Journey Museum in Fruita, Colorado.

Our time in Fruita coincided with a full moon. I was able to get a reasonably good photograph of the moon one night. It reminded me of the pictures I took of the moon while we were stationed in Islamabad, Pakistan.

A full moon visible in Fruita, Colorado.

No trip to Fruita is complete without a visit to the Main Street Café in Grand Junction, Colorado. When we go there, we always try to get the table that is in the display window. The day we went, that table was open, so grabbed it quickly. It had been eons since I had a milkshake. I corrected that oversight with a strawberry milkshake. It was absolutely everything I thought it would be!

Yep! That is a strawberry shake! You too can get one at the Main Street Cafe in Grand Junction, Colorado.

Ready for lunch at the Main Street Cafe in Grand Junction, Colorado.

He just finished his lunch at the Main Street Cafe in Grand Junction, Colorado.

A Marilyn Monroe advertisement in the Main Street Cafe in Grand Junction, Colorado.

One of the “window display” seating areas in the Main Street Cafe in Grand Junction, Colorado.

An art installation just outside of the Main Street Cafe in Grand Junction, Colorado. The cafe is visible in the background with the checkerboard sign.

After lunch, we walked along Main Street; stopping at the Main Street Minerals and Beads shop and then the Robin’s Nest Antiques and Treasures store. That antique store is one of our favorite stops in downtown Grand Junction.

The Main Street Minerals & Beads shop in Grand Junction, Colorado.

The building housing the Main Street Minerals & Beads store in Grand Junction, Colorado dates from 1890.

Our favorite antique store in Grand Junction, Colorado. A Robin’s Nest of Antiques & Treasures.

A partial view of the Reed Building in Grand Junction, Colorado. It dates from 1908.

An artfully disguised utility box along Main Street in Grand Junction, Colorado.

Wednesday morning after Thanksgiving, I was up early as usual. I could tell the sunrise was going to be good. So once again, even though it was cold, I grabbed my camera and headed outside. I think the results speak for themselves.

Looking across a paddock in Fruita, Colorado watching the sunrise.

A closer view of a lone tree in Fruita, Colorado during a sunrise. The Grand Mesa is visible in the distance.

A wider view across the paddock in Fruita, Colorado.

A lone tree in Fruita, Colorado silhouetted by the sunrise.

The sunrise was very pretty on this cold fall morning in Fruita, Colorado.

A globe willow tree in front of a barn in Fruita, Colorado.

Looking across a paddock in Fruita, Colorado toward the Colorado National Monument.

Later that morning, we took Tyler, Victoria, and Michael to the airport so they could begin their 11-hour journey home. They made it home about an hour late, but safe and sound.

When we returned from the airport, Leslie and I finished packing our baggage. We were due to the leave Grand Junction the next morning. We had so much stuff we had to ship some items to Bolivia to keep from having overweight baggage.

That next morning, we drove to the airport. We left the vehicle in the parking lot for Lorraine and Hillary to retrieve later that morning. We went inside the airport, checked-in, and went to our gate to await boarding.

We boarded and left on time. It was a very smooth and uneventful flight to Dallas, Texas.

On the final approach to the DFW airport in Dallas, Texas.

Once we were in Dallas, we had enough time to get breakfast at Chili’s. It was particularly marginal, but it was food.

When we got to our gate, we only had a short wait before we boarded the American Airlines plane bound for Orlando, Florida. Once again, that flight was comfortable and uneventful. We had a row of three seats to ourselves, so we were able to spread out.

A happy passenger waiting to depart from DFW in Dallas, Texas.

While our plane was taxiing at DFW airport in Dallas, Texas, another plane was landing.

A runway marker at the DFW airport in Dallas, Texas. Our plane ultimately took off on runway 35L.

A Delta jet at the DFW airport beginning the takeoff roll.

The passengers on our plane at the DFW airport in Dallas, Texas waiting for the takeoff.

An American Airlines jet at the DFW airport in Dallas, Texas beginning its takeoff roll.

Another American Airlines jet at the DFW airport in Dallas, Texas beginning its takeoff roll.

The comfort ended at Orlando. A wheelchair attendant was at the door of the plane to collect Leslie. He pushed her to the desk at the gate, said he had to go clear the plane and left us there. We did not quite understand that. In all of our travels, once the wheelchair arrives, we are off to our next destination with no stops.

The young man finally returned and began walking with us down the concourse. I asked to confirm that he knew where we were going. He replied yes, to baggage claim such and such. I said no, we had a connecting flight to Lima, Peru. He stopped, checked his iPad, and said we had to leave the secure area to check in with our carrier, Latam Airlines. That was disheartening since I already knew how challenging the security screening was at Orlando.

Regardless, he got us to the Latam desk. I showed our tickets to the woman at the counter. She said we were all set and we could go to our gate. Since Leslie and I had not originally planned to travel together, we had different itineraries. That meant our seat assignments were not together. I asked the woman if she could seat us together. She flatly said no. That surprised me. She said we might be able to change seats at the gate. I pointed out that Leslie needed assistance. She told us to wait at a designated point, and someone would take us to the gate shortly.

We waited at the designated spot for nearly ten minutes. Finally, I asked another Latam employee how we were supposed to get to the gate. Ultimately, they called someone, and we began our journey to gate 82.

As we got to the security screening area, we entered the wheelchair assistance line. I thought that meant we would be expedited through the queue. Boy was that an incorrect thought. I could have sworn that some of the families in line wearing Disney World attire were the same families I had seen a week earlier. Even though we were in a short and “fast” lane, it took an excessive amount of time to get through security.

Departing security, our attendant got us to the gate reasonably quickly. Just as we arrived, they started boarding. By our way of reckoning, we just barely made it to our plane.

We boarded the plane, and Leslie took her seat at 18J, an aisle seat. I continued to 26C, another aisle seat. The boarding was somewhat chaotic. I kept an eye on Leslie. I saw the middle seat next to her remained open. As it so happened, the middle seat next to me also remained open. When it appeared boarding was complete, I asked one of the flight attendants if I could sit next to my wife. She agreed, so we were able to sit together.

The flight from Orlando to Lima, Peru was uneventful but lengthy. At only about five and one-half hours, it was certainly not the longest flight we have taken, but it is still a long time to be cooped up in an aluminum cigar. We eagerly awaited the in-flight service and a glass of wine…wait a minute…Latam airlines do not serve alcohol…what?!?! We may never fly them again…

I was ever hopeful that when we arrived in Lima, we would have enough time to go to Fridays and get something to eat and drink…wrong. The airport was bustling. We made it to our next gate with about 20-minutes to spare. The only good thing is I asked the gate attendant if Leslie and I could sit together. She moved us to the front of the plan, row 2, and seated us side by side.

The pilot making preparations to depart Lima, Peru on the way to La Paz, Bolivia.

The flight from Lima to La Paz, Bolivia was one of our shorter trips. We arrived in La Paz at about 03:15 Bolivian time. One of the Embassy employees was there to meet us and help us through customs. When we had retrieved our luggage and got in the vehicle, it was nearing 04:00.

Our driver selected the Autopista, a not-quite-finished highway. WOW! After taking that, if another driver ever asks if I want to take the Autopista or the Llojetta route, it will definitely be the Autopista! It was much quicker, and fewer hairpin turns, no speed bumps, and travel was at a reasonable speed.

We made it home at about 04:30, after nearly 24-hours of travel. We had that long-awaited glass of wine and crashed into bed. We were together and at home!!

Witches Market

La Paz, Bolivia – September 4, 2018

After ten days of living in La Paz, Bolivia at 11,180 feet (3,404 meters), it was time to bring my lungs on a walking tour of parts of the city. The Community Liaison Officer (CLO) organized a walking tour on the Labor Day holiday.

About 20 people met at the U. S. Embassy to begin the adventure. A station on the light blue line of the Teleférico (Linea Celeste) was a little more than a block beyond the starting point. It took several gondolas to get the group to the end of the light blue line. Once at the end of the line, the group transferred to the orange line (Linea Naranja).

The orange line “flies” quite high above the never-ending city of La Paz. The views of the town are stunning. It is impressive to see just how many homes and businesses are packed into an area delimited by steep hills and cliffs. It seems one can look in any direction and see hundreds and hundreds of red brick structures clinging to any area of soil that seems as though it may support a structure. Some look rather doubtful, but that does not seem to deter the owners and builders.

The density of La Paz is like no city I have seen.

View from the orange line of the Teleferico.

In our direction of travel, the orange line drops passengers off near the old train depot. While it is still known as the train depot, no trains originate from the depot. For some reason, service was suspended years ago. The only remnants today are the old building and a couple of train cars sitting on display on tracks that lead nowhere.

The orange line of the Teleferico deposits one near the La Paz train station, seen here in the background.

Departing the orange line terminus, the group walked along Avenida Buenos Aires. In front of a building under construction, there were a half-dozen burros. It is uncertain for what they were being used or whether there are others in the city. These are the only burros I have personally seen here.

Burros at the side of Avenida Buenos Aires.

A few bends along the Avenida later, CLO announced we were at our first destination. The destination was not readily apparent. CLO pointed to a small opening off the side of the road and proclaimed, “There is the entry to Uyustus Market (Mercado Uyustus).” At first sight, it did not appear that it was an entry to anything. But, sure enough, once through the entrance, one found all sorts of shops on both sides of a tiny aisle. The aisle could not have been more than three feet wide. Regardless, it was open to travel in either direction. There were not many people in the market when we arrived. Several of the shops were not yet open. Some experienced people in the group said the aisle was very difficult to traverse when all the shops are open, and the market is packed.

The narrow slit between the white tarp and the yellow/orange shop is the entry to the Uyustus Market.

Walking through the market, one passes numerous shops. Some of the shops are no more than a stall about eight feet by eight feet (2.4 meters by 2.4 meters). One can buy shoes, backpacks, cosmetics, underwear, shirts, pants, electronics, household appliances, and more. Now and then there was a small opening between shops. Walking through those, one entered the ground floor of the buildings which line the street. That was entirely another maze of shops offering everything one can imagine. If an item cannot be found at Uyustus Market, it is not something one needs anyway.

A quarter-mile (434 meters) up the market road, thankfully at the end of the upward march, both my lungs began to complain about the 12,300-foot (3,749 meters) elevation. I was happy to stand still and search for available atoms of oxygen while my companions looked for bargains. Looking up, I saw the tangled mess that delivers power, cable TV, and telephone. I am not sure how one could decipher where to begin if one of the utilities stopped working at a nearby home.

Above the ground floor shops were another four or five floors of apartments. Probably 95 percent of the buildings appear to be unfinished. In other words, the exterior is frequently just red brick. The interiors are finished and undoubtedly livable. One Bolivian told me there is no sense in making the exterior walls “pretty.” They are outside.

This mannequin must have been five percent off…

Typical apartment homes above the ground level shops.

The main portion of Uyustus Market is quite crowded.

Soon it was time to walk back downhill toward Avenida Buenos Aires; hooray!!

In the middle of Calle Uyustus was a sleeping dog. Since this is a market street, the majority of the traffic is pedestrian. The dog was unfazed by any of the activities. On that note, there are thousands of dogs roaming throughout the city. Some are turned out by their owners for the day. Regardless, it makes walking dangerous. Not because of packs of dogs growling at passersby, but because of the “gifts” left behind by the dogs. Picking up dog feces does not appear to be in vogue in La Paz. Therefore, when walking, one has to be constantly aware lest one acquires an odorous gift on the bottom of one’s shoe.

This situation reminded me of our time in Madrid. While living there, the city faced a similar problem of people not picking up after their dogs. The city’s campaign designed to turn the problem around was simple. They put up signs throughout the city that stated; bolsa caca. Loosely translated, it means to bag the crap! Maybe a similar campaign could gain traction in La Paz.

The other hazard when walking in La Paz is uneven terrain and holes. By rough terrain, it is not a reference to the broader terrain of the steep hills and cliffs; but, rather the sidewalks and streets. There is any number of trip hazards in every few yards or meters one travels. It is unsafe to walk and look about at the sights. It is much safer to pay attention to the path to ensure one does not encounter holes, unexpected curbs, sudden inclines or declines, and the occasional dog gift. If one wishes to see the sights, it is best to cease walking and then look.

Back on Avenida Buenos Aires, it is impressive to see the amount of vehicle and pedestrian traffic. Often the cars and the humans are separated by mere centimeters. Luckily, there were no mishaps spotted.

An approaching Dodge bus that was just not quite as fancy as the first.

A family of three on a moped on Avenida Buenos Aires.

Literally, a little old lady walking along Avenida Buenos Aires.

A Bolivian woman wearing the traditional bowler hat.

On the way to the Witches Market, we walked through yet another market along Pasaje el Rosario. There were many shops open; however, it was not overly crowded with people. Interestingly, there are so many shops in the area. They seem to be sectioned off, for example, one area deals primarily in sewing and knitting supplies. Another area features mainly electronics and appliances while yet another deals in aquariums and aquarium supplies.

Another small market on Pasaje el Rosario.

There are many things in the market competing for one’s attention.

A Bolivian woman in a bowler tending to a shop in along Pasaje el Rosario.

We walked into another such area, the “Home Depot.” This street has every type of hardware or hardware related item one can imagine. There is a similar area near where I live. This particular street with the shops is a busy road. It is a one-way road. The vehicles have to negotiate with shoppers while being inconvenienced by a car stopping to take on a large load of something. That sets off the horns on the other vehicles for blocks.

A portion of the road, Isaac Tamayo, is the local “Home Depot” of this area of La Paz.

Not long after the “Home Depot,” we made it to Calle Sagarnaga. That meant we were very close to the Witches Market (Mercado de las Brujas). Finally, at the intersection of Calle Sagarnaga and Calle Linares, we found ourselves in the middle of the Witches Market. The market is so named because, in addition to selling the standard tourist fare, one can also buy many spells and potions. I did not buy any tourist items or medicines, preferring to defer my purchases until I return with Leslie and Lorraine. However, upon my return, I doubt any potions will find their way into my shopping bag.

View north along Calle Sagarnaga toward San Francisco Basilica.

The intersection of Calle Sagarnaga and Calle Linares.

Bolivian women tending a street shop in the Witches Market area of La Paz.

In the Witches Market, looking south along Calle Linares.

The entry to the inti-illimani shop in the Witches Market.

An entry point to another area of the Witches Market along Calle Melchor Jimenez.

One of the very colorful street displays found throughout the Witches Market.

About an hour of shopping later, the group met for lunch at a Cuban restaurant. I opted not to join the group. I had to return to San Miguel to go to the Tigo store.

I walked down Sagarnaga toward the San Francisco Basilica. I would have liked to have gone in, but I had to keep my errand in mind. Walking from the basilica to the Teleférico, I caught several glimpses of Mount Illimani. That mountain is about 21,122 feet (6,438 meters) high. It is visible from many of the higher points of La Paz; including from the Teleférico.

The main entrance to the San Francisco Basilica.

Riding on the light blue (Linea Celeste) of the Teleferico, apparently destined to Mount Illimani.

I still had to settle my bill for cable and internet after the previous facility manager departed. I took the Teleférico back to the end of the green line. From there I taxied to Tigo. Once I paid my bill, I decided to walk home. As I walked, I passed a dentist’s office. It was apparent they were trying to use a clever combination of the words teeth and health. Unfortunately, in retrospect, maybe the “H” should have been lowercase… I’m just sayin’.

Maybe the “H” should have been lowercase too…

Even though the city is so dense, there is new construction nearly everywhere one looks.

Looking down and to the east along Calle Uyustus.

Near the top of Uyustus Market. The light pole seems to be a starting place for electrical, cable, and telephone spaghetti.

Walking back down to the main portion of Uyustus Market.

People mix freely, but cautiously, with the traffic.

A paint store at the intersection of Calle Sagarnaga and Avenida Illampu.

Pedestrians were able to cross the intersection.

Walking down Calle Sagarnaga to the north, toward the Witches Market.

A partial view of the Plaza Major de San Francisco. The traffic jam is on Avenida Mariscal Santa Cruz.

The bell tower of the San Francisco Basilica.

Looking to the southeast beyond the Plaza del Obelisco, following Avenida Camacho, one can see Mount Illimani in the distance.

Pedestrians waiting to cross the street.

From a bridge on Calle Bueno, looking to the southeast along the light blue line of the Teleferico. Mount Illimani is covered with a few clouds. Note the Batman and Wonder Woman restroom sign.

The Marvelous La Paz sign is visible in the City Park.

The Linea Celeste drops in elevation to the point that one can no longer see Mount Illimani.

Departing the next to last station on the Teleferico Linea Celeste.

From the last station on the green line of the Teleferico looking back toward the northwest.

Wats Everywhere!

Chiang Mai, Thailand – February 5, 2017

I arrived at the airport in Singapore with plenty of time to spare. I cannot stand to be late. I do not like the drama that comes with being late. It was lunchtime. I opted for Sweet and Sour Chicken at Central Thai.

With my belly full, I went through passport control and then sat down to wait for my flight to Chiang Mai, Thailand. I was on my way to a training class. The seating area was in the concourse as opposed to at the gate. There was an unmanned security checkpoint at the gate. That meant no one could sit in the waiting area. Once the security team arrived, I went through and sat in the gate area.

While I was waiting for my Silkair flight, a woman wearing a non-descript uniform approached me to ask if I would participate in a survey. I agreed. She read the questions to me from her iPad. In total, the survey took about five minutes. At the conclusion, she gave me a box containing a very nice pen engraved with “Changi Airport,” the name of the airport in Singapore.

Onboard the plane, I found my exit row aisle seat had more legroom than I think I have ever experienced. I did find it odd that those sitting in the exit row cannot place anything under the seat in front of them. All carry-on items went into the overhead bins. The second thing I found odd was one of the flight attendants sat in the exit row aisle seat across from me. I think it is much more common to see the flight attendants sitting in jump seats. Regardless, the three-hour flight was uneventful.

The Silkair flight arrived in Chiang Mai at about 17:40 local time. I quickly went through passport control and customs. With my baggage in hand, I arranged for a taxi. The taxi boss said the cost for the trip from the airport to the Le Meridien Hotel was 200 Baht (just under US$6).

The driver did not speak English. I certainly do not know the Thai language. Luckily, the driver had a translation app on his cell phone. He spoke into the phone in Thai, pressed a button, and I heard the question or statement in English. I responded in English, speaking into his phone. He played that back in Thai. We had quite a good conversation on the way to the hotel.

Elephants are a symbol of good luck in Thailand. These were in front of the Le Meridien Hotel.

About an hour after landing, I was at my hotel. Here comes the snobbish part…my room was lovely; but the room, bathroom, and entry area could have all fit within just the bedroom I had in Singapore.

The view from the room was generally to the west. The air quality was not good. Through the haze, I could make out Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep near the top of a mountain in Doi Suthep-Pui National Park. Periodically, various commercial jets rose diagonally across the face of the hill; ultimately rising above the horizon.

View of Chiang Mai, Thailand from the Le Meridien Hotel.

One afternoon, a group of us decided to walk to a Buddhist temple. I thought we would walk to the temple, go to a restaurant, and then return to the hotel. Little did I know the adventures that lay ahead.

A few blocks from the hotel, we arrived at the Tha Phae Gate that allows passage through the ancient wall that surrounds the old city of Chiang Mai. The wall provided protection, and the accompanying moat added to the level of security. This gate only allows for pedestrian traffic. Other portals allow vehicle passage.

This is one of several gates allowing entry to the ancient walled area of Chiang Mai. It is on the eastern wall.

We continued west along Rachadamnoen Road. Although it was not our final destination, we stopped for a quick look at Wat Phan On. A wat is a Buddhist temple. In Chiang Mai, there are around 300 wats; literally wats everywhere.

Entering the wat compound, one immediately sees a gilded chedi. A chedi is a burial structure. Those buried in the chedis are in a seated position. The chedis become a place for meditation. The chedi at Wat Phan On is directly across from the main temple. We took a quick look at the temple and left to continue our journey.

Our 2.5 kilometer (1.5 miles) walk concluded at the wat we sought, Wat Phra Singh ( วัดพระสิงห์ ). I included the Thai spelling because it is such a beautiful and unique alphabet. The wat dates from the mid-14^th Century. It is one of the most revered wats in Chiang Mai.

The beauty of the wat is stunning. One of the things that immediately caught my attention was the gilded dragon (nāga) at the entry to the main temple (viharn luang). The level of detail and ornamentation are incredible. An interesting point about this dragon and others I saw during this trip; they emanate from the mouth of another dragon.

Another view of the dragon in front of the main temple at Wat Phra Singh.

In the main temple, the gilded Buddha was huge and imposing. I must admit I do not fully understand the Buddhist religion, so a lot of the items and décor in each wat left question marks above my head. Regardless, the beauty was such as I had never seen before.

The Buddha in the main temple at Wat Phra Singh.

When we left Wat Phra Singh, we began walking east. I thought we were heading to dinner. I was wrong. Along Arak 5 Road we found Wat Inthakhin Sadww Muang. The wat is very small. That did not deter the decoration. Although tiny, it was beautiful inside. At this wat as well as at many other locations in Chiang Mai, one saw portraits of Rama IX Bhumibol Adulyadej the King of Thailand. The King died on October 13, 2016. The country was still in mourning during my trip. I believe the period of mourning lasts for one year.

A woman on the floor in front of the Buddhas at Wat Inthakhin Sadww Muang.

At Ratvithi Road and Ratchapakhinai Road, we came to 48 Garage. It was like a German beer garden plopped in the middle of Chiang Mai. My mates and I ordered a beer. While we sat there, a woman came to the table holding dozens of woven fabric bracelets. Those on display were country names; like Canada, U. S. A., and Sweden. However, she also twisted by request. One could select nearly any word or phrase, and she would weave it into a bracelet. Her work was fascinating. She completed a bracelet in about ten minutes. I did not get one. Many others did get bracelets with words and phrases that I will not bother to list here.

A bracelet maker at a beer garden in Chiang Mai.

Besides 48 Garage, there were several other bars and street food vendors. A couple of my favorite names were New York Pizza and Tacos Bell (yes, there is an “s”). Some of the guys ate various fare from the food vendors. I opted out. I had no desire to have a run-in with a runny tummy.

This stand, at first look, may be a Taco Bell. Actually, it is TacoS Bell. The “s” is very important in differentiating.

We went into a bar across from New York Pizza. What drew us in was the live band. Of all things, it was a Reggae band. The group consisted of three guitar players, a keyboardist, a trumpet player, and a drummer. They played very well.

Leaving the bar, several of my mates spotted a bar touting a “Shot Gun Beer Can Competition.” Much like the bracelet incident, I opted out. The bar employee willingly prepped beer cans for anyone wishing to compete. The preparation was putting a small hole on the side of the beer can, near the bottom. The competitor places their mouth over the small hole while holding the beer can upright. Then, pulling the tab open, the beer shotguns through the small hole and into the mouth in a matter of seconds. For those keeping score at home, the U.S.A. is in the lead with 322 cans downed. Several countries; such as Cyprus, Gambia, and Armenia, are tied for the last place with one can each. This is a popular sport. The leader-board tracks a total of 64 countries.

This tally board keeps track of the claimed national status of those that take on the shotgun beer can competition in Chiang Mai.

Continuing in the general direction of our hotel, we ended up at the Tha Phae Gate again. This time, the plaza on the east side of the gate had a didgeridoo band playing. Much like the Reggae band, they played very well.

About a half-block down the road from the plaza, we found the THC Rooftop Bar. THC is one of the chemical compounds in marijuana. I was a little worried that we might encounter a marijuana haven. We did not.

Had I been by myself, I am confident I would not have gone in, but… The front door to the stairs had a low head height. Many of the flights of stairs were a long way from OSHA safety standards. Regardless, we made it to the level below the bar. There, we found something more akin to a ladder than stairs. Making this all the dicier was the nearby sign; “SHOES OFF PLEASE If you have expensive shoes, take them upstairs with you! We take no responsibility! THANK YOU.”

One is required to take off one’s shoes before reaching the rooftop THC bar.

In addition to the sign, there was some wild graffiti on the walls. One of my mates and I stayed at that level for a few minutes. One of our other mates came back to the top of the stairs/ladder and coaxed us up. As I took off my shoes and climbed the very uncomfortable stairs/ladder, the horror of completing my walk to our hotel in my stocking feet continued to play over and over in my mind.

Having risen those last few feet, we were at the bar level. Much to my chagrin, to get to the final level, we faced one more stair/ladder. As if that were not enough, once I reached the last level, I saw dozens of small tables about 18 inches above the floor. To use the tables, one sat on pillows on the floor. As I squatted down and left my fate to gravity, the next horror show played in my mind; wondering how would I possibly get back to my feet.

When we prepared to leave, somehow, I made it back to an upright position. My mind was not on the very uncomfortable rungs, but rather on the actual location of my shoes as I descended my favorite stair/ladder. I could not have been happier if I had won the lottery; my shoes were still there!

From the THC Rooftop Bar, we began our walk again. Surprise, we stopped at yet another bar; the Baba Bobo Music and Restaurant Bar. Luckily, I recognized the street was the same one on which our hotel was located. Since it was well past my regular bedtime of 20:30, the entertainment value of our trek was waning. I decided to hit the eject button and walk the final 800 meters (one-half mile) back to the hotel.

Later in the week, I decided to walk to Wat Chiang Man. It is one of the oldest in the old city, dating from the late 13^th Century. My planned walk was about four kilometers (two and one-half miles). On my way, I walked by Wat Mahawan. I walked through the wat quickly and went on to Tha Phae Gate.

That day at the gate, there were many sights; tuk-tuks waiting for fares, a divey looking bar (probably one of the best places in town), and monks walking through the plaza.

Five Buddhist monks walking through the plaza at the Tha Phae Gate.

After passing through Tha Phae Gate, I walked to Wat Phan On. For those keeping track of what’s wat; Wat Phan On was the first wat I visited during this trip. It is the first wat I had ever seen. On my own, I had much more time to wander through the wat compound. It is beautiful. A few items I saw there that I had not seen in any other wat included small brass bells near a chedi, two large gongs near a chedi, and several inspirational signs. The signs are in both Thai and English. I think my favorite is “Self-winning is pretty good.”

Some additional inspirational signs at Wat Phan On. The sign on the left is a little difficult to read. It reads “Self-winning is pretty good.”

It was a warm afternoon, so I was hot when I arrived at Wat Chiang Man. At the main temple, as was the case with all the other wats, one had to remove one’s shoes before entering. At this temple, there was a guard dog of sorts. Actually, “guard” may be a bit of a stretch. The dog lay on the marble, not paying much attention to shoes or people. Odd, but at the temple, I did not have the same feeling of dread with leaving my shoes behind as I had at the THC Rooftop Bar.

People are expected to remove their shoes before entering the Buddhist temples. This is at Wat Chiang Man. Note the sleeping dog on the marble floor.

I thought the Chedi Chang Lom was fascinating. It is the oldest structure at Wat Chiang Man. That means it was built in the late 1290s. The many elephants emerging from the chedi at the base are all full-size.

This chedi is the oldest structure on the Wat Chiang Man compound. It dates from the late 13th Century.

The small side of the temple had two very beautiful dragons alongside the stairs. They are every bit as ornate and beautiful as the dragons at Wat Phra Singh.

The golden dragons guarding the side entry to a smaller temple at Wat Chiang Man.

I walked back to my hotel and took a nap. Shortly after waking up, a friend and his wife invited me out for dinner. We went to a food court about two blocks away from the hotel. I did not do any of the ordering, but I certainly helped with eating. The main course was a huge seafood boil served on some new paper used for printing newspapers. Rubber gloves helped one stay somewhat clean while eating the boil by hand. It reminded me of the meals I have had in Louisiana. To say it was delicious does not do it enough justice.

While I sat at the table with my friend, his wife and her friend continued bringing different fare from the various food vendors at the food court. If I had known the Thai street food was so good, I would have joined my buddies eating during the night of the “death march” and shotgun beer competition. I enjoyed every morsel of food I tried that evening; and best of all, no runny tummy!

On our way back to the hotel, we stopped for some shopping at one of the tourist bazaars. I found a wood-carved dragon that I had to have. I think it cost US$10. I bought several other gifts; such as embroidered bags, and various small, painted, ceramic elephants. My friend’s wife is Thai. That made it easy to “negotiate” with the vendors. They all spoke some English, but I am sure the back and forth in Thai helped make things easier.

For my last afternoon in Chiang Mai, I decided I would see something different; the Flower Market. I set out from the hotel on a sunny afternoon. Before going too far, I walked by Wat Upakhut. It was not “different,” but I am glad I decided to go in and explore.

In the main temple, two or three monks were wearing plastic gloves. They were mixing something in some large metal bowls. I am not sure what it was, but it must have been edible. From the ceiling hung what must have been donations. Ribbon-like holders were hanging from the ceiling. They each contained varying amounts of Thai baht. Each also had a card at the bottom with something written in Thai, possibly a prayer.

Monks at Wat Upakhut mixing something, apparently edible. Note the dozens of collections of Thai Baht hanging from the ceiling.

I took some interesting photographs in the compound. I think one of my favorites was that of two men working on restoring one of the dragons at the entry to the main temple. I enjoyed watching their handiwork in plaster.

Two men working to refurbish one of the dragons at Wat Upakhut.

I walked on to the north. As I approached the Flower Market, I found several gold shops. There was so much gold jewelry for sale; it was hard to see the individual pieces because of the bright glare.

The Flower Market was in a structure that one might liken to a department store. The flower vendors were on the Ping River side.

A portion of the flower market in Chiang Mai.

After all of my walking over the last few days, I was tired. I spent very little time in the Flower Market. When I emerged, I flagged down a tuk-tuk. I took my first ever ride back to the hotel. It was entertaining.

That night, I went back to the food court by myself for dinner. I arrived a little early, so I partook of a Thai foot massage. At times, it was much less than relaxing. A 30-minute foot massage was 120 baht (US$3.43). In Auckland, the only other place where I have seen Thai foot massages advertised, 30-minutes go for NZ$45 (US$32.64); ten times the price!

For dinner, I tried some of the grilled items. The pork and chicken on a stick were delicious. I had two of the pork on a stick and one of the chicken on a stick. To wash it down, I had one liter of Leo beer (a Thai beer). The total cost of my dinner came in at 220 baht (US$6.29).

Some of the available grilled items. The pricing is in Thai Baht. From the upper left 20 to the lower right 120, the U.S. equivalent is $0.60 to $3.53.

On Saturday, I caught my 200 Thai baht taxi back to the airport. From there, it was back to Singapore for another rest stop before flying back to New Zealand.

A man sitting on his trike outside Wat Upakhut.

Monks crossing a footbridge near the flower market.

Traffic maneuvering near the flower market.

Some of the traffic to the side of the flower market.

One serpent devouring another at Wat Upakhut.

Some of the intricate ornamentation at Wat Upakhut.

It was apparently laundry day when I visited Wat Upakhut.

Several painted goddesses at Wat Upakhut.

A fully refurbished dragon at Wat Upakhut.

A line of praying statues at Wat Upakhut.

Additional ornamentation at Wat Upakhut.

The monks’ laundry hanging to dry at Wat Upakhut.

A VW van that doubles as a bar at the food court.

At night, the street fills with vendor booths for blocks and blocks.

The very detailed ornamentation at a small side temple at Wat Upakhut.

A carved wooden elephant was hidden out of the way at Wat Upakhut.

A closeup look at some of the intricate detail in front of the small side temple at Wat Upakhut.

Inside the small side temple at Wat Upakhut.

Some of the hundreds of mini Buddhas on the walls of the small side temple. Each has something different written along the bottom.

The Buddha in the main temple at Chiang Man.

Looking along the side of the main temple at Wat Chiang Man.

Two young girls posing in front of the ancient chedi in the compound of the Wat Chiang Man.

A little gray elephant and some other elephants in front of Wat Chiang Man.

Purses for sale at a stand across the street from a Burger King franchise.

A man moving his refrigerated (iced) cart to a new location.

A beverage stand next to a grilling stand. For dinner, on this particular evening, I patronized both.

Some bells near the stupa at Wat Phan On.

A bilingual inspirational sign at Wat Phan On.

Detail of the door relief at Wat Phan On.

Two Buddhist monks checking the price with a taxi driver before boarding for their destination.

A closed Buddhist temple at Wat Mahawan.

A rather dilapidated bar, the Inter Bar. That means it must be a GREAT place.

A worship niche at a chedi at Wat Mahawan.

A statue in front of the main temple at Wat Phra Sing.

The gilded chedi at the rear of the main temple at Wat Phra Singh.

A golden elephant at the rear of the main temple at Wat Phra Singh.

A very ornate building near the front of the main temple at Wat Phra Singh.

A woman facing Buddhas at Wat Inthakhin Sadww Muang. The portrait is of the just-passed king.

A didgeridoo band performing near the Tha Phae Gate.

The very, very low entry to the stairs which lead to the THC Rooftop Bar.

It is not unusual to see motos for rent throughout Chiang Mai. However, by actually renting, I am certain one is really taking a chance with the crazy traffic.

Some typical businesses. I am not exactly sure what the Sexy Poompui Bar is all about…

A more detailed view of the town from the Le Meridien Hotel.

The main temple at Wat Phra Singh in the old city of Chiang Mai.

A very ornate dragon at the entry to the main temple at Wat Phra Singh.

Two women in front of the Buddha in the main temple of Wat Phra Singh.

Otago & Olveston

Dunedin, New Zealand – February 17, 2016

It was nearing 15:00 when we finally made our motel in Dunedin. Not long after checking in, Leslie, Hillary, and I decided to go to St. Clair Beach. A taxi deposited us there quickly. It was not very far from our motel.

The taxi dropped us near The Hydro building. The ground floor of the building houses The Esplanade restaurant. It is an Italian restaurant. We decided that was the place for dinner later.

The beach was a vast, sandy expanse. The beach very gradually went into the ocean. It was effortless to walk on the beach. We saw a group of surfing students. They lined up, listening to instruction, and then were sent running into the surf.
At the same time, some lifeguards were drilling with their zodiac boat. They transitioned from the beach to surf several times. It appeared to me that if needed, the lifeguards would be to the person in trouble very quickly.
In addition to the people, several canines were enjoying the surf. The waves were not very large since the beaches pitch to the ocean was so gradual.
After getting our feet wet and gathering a few seashells, we hailed a taxi for our return trip to the motel.

The St. Clair poles with White Island in the distance.

A dog coming out of the surf with a stick.

Back at the motel, we picked up Lorraine and headed back to the beach. Upon arrival, we took a few photographs at the oceanside. Then we went into The Esplanade. It was one of the best Italian restaurants at which I have ever eaten. All four of us thoroughly enjoyed our meals.

Posing for a portrait just before having dinner.

The Esplanade, an Italian restaurant in the old Hydro building at St. Clair beach.

After dinner, it was back to the motel to rest and prepare to explore Dunedin the next day.
We began the day with breakfast at a nursery and garden store of all things. Nichol’s Garden Centre was just a couple of blocks from our motel. At the rear of the store was a fantastic café. I had eggs Benedict. That dish is one of the oddities I have found in New Zealand; it is available in every restaurant at which we have had breakfast. I do not recall eggs Benedict offered so frequently in restaurants in the United States.

About a month before traveling to the south island, I read an article in the local newspaper about the steepest street in the world, Baldwin Street in Dunedin. I made a mental note that I wanted to see that street while we were in Dunedin. After we finished breakfast, we went to Baldwin Street.
When we arrived at Baldwin Street, we found it humorous that there were so many people taking photographs of a street, me included. The steepest top section is only about 528 feet long, one-tenth of a mile. In that short distance, the road gains 155 feet in elevation. That means for every three feet traveled; there is a gain of one foot in altitude. That equates to a 35% incline!

The street seems to go absolutely straight up!

After admiring the anomaly that is Baldwin Street and stopping at the Baldwin Street café, we got back into our SUV. We made for our next stop, the Otago Museum. Before entering the museum, I did not realize Sir Edmund Hillary is a native son of New Zealand. He was born in Auckland. The museum has several items from Hillary’s ascent of Mt. Everest on display.

Entry to the museum is free. There are three levels of exhibits including; Southern Land, Southern People; Pacific Cultures; Nature; People of the World; Maritime; and the very cool Animal Attic.

This part of the Otago Museum is original, housing many different stuffed animals.

We departed the museum at lunchtime. We had parked on the street. When we walked back to the car, we saw a food trailer parked a couple of spots ahead of us. It was The Hungry Tui (the Tui is a native bird of New Zealand). One of the offerings was a pulled pork sandwich. It was excellent.
Our final destination of the day was the Olveston House. It is a historic home close to the central business district, finished in 1907. David Theomin was the owner. He was a wealthy merchant that emigrated from England to Australia and then to Dunedin. It is such a unique home because all of the items in the house are original, not period pieces bought and then placed in the home. That is thanks to Theomin’s daughter, Dorothy. When she died in 1966, she left the estate to the City of Dunedin.

The 35-room, 13,700 square feet house is on a large parcel of land on a hilltop overlooking Dunedin. The grounds are immaculate and beautifully landscaped. Photography inside the home, much to my chagrin, is not allowed. One can get an idea of the interiors of the house by visiting www.olveston.co.nz.

As one can see, the name Olveston has nothing to do with the family name of Theomin. One of the staff explained that Theomin was born in Bristol, England. Olveston was a small village just outside of Bristol. Apparently, he spent much time as a child in Olveston. He either had fond memories of Olveston or Dunedin reminded him of Olveston, maybe both. Regardless, he named his property after that English village.

From Olveston, it was back to our motel to prepare for our departure the next day to Queenstown.