Home again ... Thurs, 6/8/23

 

... home again, and isn't it great? After some wearisome back-and-forth options offered by insurance people, I emailed our travel agent, Jan, in Grass Valley on Wednesday, and asked her to book us flights home (from Lisbon), which she did.  Lisbon to Newark to Sacramento -- two long flights and one very long day -- and we arrived home on Thursday around Midnight, pretty much exhausted.  Portugal is eight time zones from California.

Monarch on Bottlebrush.

Jimmy was able to see his doctor first thing Friday morning.  The catheter was removed, prescription pills sorted out, advice given, and a new appointment scheduled for Monday morning.  His recovery will be slow not just on account of surgery, but because his body was so depleted from vomiting and not eating.  He'll have ups and downs, but overall, he's doing all right.  And so am I.

Not much Friday morning traffic on Avenida do Infante, Funchal, lined by purple-flowering Jacarandas, which had already finished blooming.  Many of the streets and sidewalks are cobblestone, not the easiest stuff to walk on.

Above and below:  Santa Catarina Park.

Lots of folks have asked me to compare the Portugal hospital with our US hospitals.  Jimmy was in the best hospital in Funchal.  I believe it's a newer hospital and it was sparkling clean.  Most everyone speaks English, some better than others, of course, so we were able to communicate.  He was seen immediately upon entering Urgent Care and tended to speedily and with respect.  "Mr James," they called him.  When it was determined he needed emergency surgery, the surgeon was called at home and he was there in a flash.

On Friday morning, the group did a walking field trip to the city center.  Most of these photos are from that hike.  The pic above was near the park; the City of Funchal crawls up the hillsides.  Every day I went to the hospital and it seemed like each taxi took a different route up into the hills where the hospital was, and for a different cost (Portugal uses Euro's).  

The Cathedral in Funchal.

A wine tasting.  It felt good to sit down.

As usual, I passed on the wine.

I loved all the black and white street tiles in Funchal.

While I was only able to participate in this one field trip (and enjoyed seeing a bit of the city), Jimmy saw none of it.  He basically stepped off the plane straight into the hospital.  He didn't get to share the king-sized bed with me, and neither of us got to walk the levadas, which was the whole point of going on this trip.  Such a shame.  But at least he got the medical care he needed, and so be it.

The group stopped by the colorful market with vendors selling veggies and fruit.  (Which reminds me, that hospital food was awful.  And Jimmy didn't get the broth and Jello he should've had post-surgery.  They brought him tough chicken and potatoes and veggies.  Another night it was spaghetti and meatballs.  I suggested they give him food he might consider eating!  Bad marks on hospital diet.)

As well as the fish market.

Strolled through old town,

with it's narrow, alley-like streets.

And on to the Atlantic Ocean, before heading back to the hotel.  I didn't test the water, but I heard from others that it isn't warm.  Maybe not, but I saw people swimming!  

Part of the Royal Savoy Hotel.

Looks spectacular!

I left the hospital early a couple of nights so I could eat some dinner (other nights I stayed till 9:30 or 10pm).  This pool looked so inviting, and on one of the days when I got back to the hotel early, I donned my bathing suit and swam around for a few minutes.  The water was refreshing (my way of saying it wasn't too warm, but doable).

End of the tour ... the tour that wasn't.  We were ready to board our TAP plane to Lisbon.  Luckily we were able to secure a wheelchair for Jimmy for each flight, which was a godsend when you think about walking from one gate to the other that's in Timbuktu and you're as weak as a newborn.

We both thank you all for your concern and prayers and good wishes.  I was grateful to be surrounded by a group of caring Road Scholar people and a group leader who facilitated a lot, while Jimmy recuperated in a hospital in a foreign country.  Made it all less scary.  Tell you true, though, it's wonderful to be home.

NEW update! Tues, 6/6/23

 

After his emergency Femoral Hernia Surgery on May 31st followed by six days in the hospital, Jimmy was finally discharged this evening from the Hospital Particular da Madeira!  Six days of ups and downs, glitches and triumphs, hopes raised and dashed, now he's out.  We didn't see much of anything of the Island of Madeira, really nothing at all, but we are booked on a flight to Lisbon early tomorrow morning.  Somehow, after an overnight in Lisbon (possibly two), we'll secure flights back to Sacramento.  Our Road Scholar tour is finished tomorrow.  Oh well.  We'll go home and recover.  That's the update, and it's a good one.  I only had a few minutes for this, but I know many of you are waiting to hear.  Thanks for your well wishes and prayers, and we'll see you later!

UPDATE: Saturday, 6/3/23

 

I don't have spectacular news; neither do I have bad news.  Jimmy is still hospitalized in the Hospital Particular da Madeira following his emergency surgery Wednesday evening.  He's been in distress, of course, not just from surgical pain, but our bodies don't work as efficiently at 78 years as they do at, say, 28 or even 58.  Don't say, "duh!"  But it's true.  Healing takes longer.  Pain lingers.

Every day I'd go to the hospital thinking to take him "home" to the hotel, and every day I'd go in and find him tethered to an IV machine, a catheter, heart monitor and -- who knows what else.  The hospital staff speak English (almost everyone), but there's still a language-cultural barrier.  The one parameter for being released was to be able to urinate on his own.  Well, he couldn't produce on his own fast enough to suit the nurses, so he'd be catheterized again, and the cycle would restart.  Laying up in the bed produces its own consequences, too, as everyone knows.

He had another torso/abdominal scan today, showing nothing remarkable (hooray).  My take on it, and you know my medical credentials, haha, is to get up and get moving.  That's what he's used to.  I told the doctor that just an hour ago.  But, he's shackled to machines, so the doc said the nurse will walk him.  Guess what?  It's Saturday, hardly anybody around.  

In case you're not sure where we are, here's a map showing Madeira off the coast of Morocco.  Far from the US West Coast!

We were supposed to continue on to the Azores after touring Madeira, but we've canceled that.  We want to go home.  Jimmy needs to heal, and will heal faster, at home.  This episode has taken us aback.  Maybe it would anybody.

I feel encouraged tonight.  I even left the hospital early enough to have dinner with some of our Road Scholar friends.  We don't want two sickly people in the family!  I'll add the next post when Jimmy is released and we're ready to "California, Here I Come!"

Madeira! 06/01/23

 

No, this is not my typical blog post; however, it needs to be written.  So you'll know what's happening, and so I can keep up with it.  I expected to be much agog on my first post, with photos of beautiful flowers or waterfalls on our Road Scholar's "Walking Madeira:  Portugal's Isle of Flowers by Foot" trip, which began Monday, May 29th.

Jimmy and I flew out of Oakland, to connect with Denver and Newark to Lisbon.  That got all boogered up, but that's not the story.  Jimmy felt ill at 4am when we got up to head to the airport.  Throughout that terribly long day he vomited.  He couldn't eat, wasn't hungry.  Sort of in pain, but not always.  Was it a bug, a tummy virus, bad food from the pizza he had the night before?  Dunno.  We continued on, arriving in Lisbon Tuesday morning, him still feeling sick.  Still throwing up.  A doctor came to the hotel, couldn't decipher what it might be, but Jimmy also couldn't pee (only once on Monday).  Doc prescribed anti-nausea pills and a diuretic.  Still ill ....

What to do, continue on to Madeira Wednesday morning?  We decided yes.  Long story shortened, we spent the afternoon at an excellent hospital in Funchal, Madeira Island, Portugal.  Tests were run, a CT scan revealed a femoral inguinal hernia, pinching a part of his bowel.  Nothing going out that way, so any food in his system had to come up by puking.  Poor guy felt so bad.  He had successful emergency surgery last night, Wednesday, May 31st.  He's still in the hospital.  I returned to our hotel for a bit of shut-eye.  

Obviously not anybody's idea of a how to spend a "vacation!"  I've seen a hotel, a hospital, and rain so far, and the occasional glimpse of a flower.  Not sure what happens next.  I'll see Jimmy this afternoon, and I hope to get useful information.

Meanwhile, here's a pic of one of Lisbon's blooming Jacaranda trees. 

Leaving Lisbon Wednesday, 5/31/23

Approaching Funchal's airport, perched between the ocean and mountainous peaks!  On a rainy day.  to be continued ....

Ah, Morocco! Sunday, 11/07/21

From the sea to the mountains to the sands of the Sahara, Morocco held me and Jimmy spellbound.  I've used the word "exotic" to describe both the country and the sights we saw, and even now, at home in California, we can recall a souk or a town or an area, and know that the word is singularly apt.  We truly enjoyed our journey, the diversity of the land and people, and their welcoming nature.  Strangers everywhere saying "welcome," with a smile and a hand over their hearts.

Morocco is an ancient land.  Its customs and its citizens steeped in history.  I once said to Bernice, "I feel like I'm traveling in the Time of Abraham."  I'm not even sure when that was, but I felt transported back in time more than once on this trip.  Morocco's big cities are modern, like US cities, except most have a medina tucked inside somewhere. 😊

We learned so much, about the country, its politics, womens rights, their education system, Berbers, Islam, and irrigation in the desert!  Learning is a good thing ... dispels myths and prejudices.

This is a Road Scholar map and our basic route, though we visited and/or stopped by many other towns.  You can see we covered quite a lot of ground.  Our personal map would look a tiny bit different, inasmuch as we four flew into Casablanca, and took the train to Rabat, making a full circuit of the country.  Forget Tangier, that wasn't part of the itinerary.  Yes, we rambled through the Volubilis ruins, as the man on the train suggested.

Now that we'd returned to Casablanca, we'd visit the only mosque a non-Muslim can enter, which is Hassan II Mosque.  We had an appointment to tour, but we were early enough that we could spend a few minutes at the ocean.

A long view of El Hank Lighthouse, which bears the name of the point where it was built.  At 167 feet, it's the highest lighthouse in Morocco.  It came into operation one hundred years ago.  We didn't go to it, so I'm not sure if it's open to the public.

Woohoo, American flag waving in the wind.  Netsy and Jan are posing with the flags, and the lighthouse in the distance.  We were all wearing jackets 'cause it wasn't all that warm!

And look at the Hassan II mosque's minaret -- at 689 ft, it's the world's second tallest minaret.  By contrast, the lighthouse is 167 ft.  "No building should be higher than a minaret."  Built by Moroccan artisans from all over the kingdom, it was completed in 1993.

The minaret is topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, built partially on land and partially over the ocean; worshippers can pray over the sea, but there is no glass floor looking into the sea. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer:  25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside ground.  I copied this from Wiki, because it's concise and relevant.  The building is huge; the entire complex is 22 acres.

Our group is walking toward the main entrance, but it's a long walk.  I can't stress how large this complex is.  A local guide met us inside, and she gave us a 45-minute tour.

A museum is attached.  We didn't go in.

Six thousand traditional Moroccan artisans worked for five years to create the abundant and beautiful mosaics, stone and marble floors and columns, sculpted plaster moldings, and carved and painted wood ceilings.  56 glass chandeliers by Murano grace the interior.  I could go on and on.  In the photo above, the main hall where the person is standing is for men, the mezzanine area above it is where women pray.

Above is the Mihrab, a semicircular niche in the wall that indicates the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca, and the direction that Muslims should face when praying.

Down a series of steps led us to the basement and the ablution room and a vast public hammam (bath) with its own entrance.  This area is for men; women bathe in a separate room.

Impressive?  100% for sure.  Like the Catholic cathedrals of Portugal and Spain, this mosque was over-the-top stunning.

Late afternoon, we checked into our hotel (no wifi for me), another of the Ibis chain, and marginal at best, but convenient.  It was just for one night anyway.  Since we had such a terrific farewell feast last night, we had a simpler dinner this evening at the hotel.

Oh, Jan wanted to go to "Rick's Cafe!"  If you've ever seen the 1942 movie, "Casablanca" with Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart, Rick's Cafe figures prominently.  Capitalizing on the movie's fame, a bar/restaurant with Rick's name came on the scene.  Jan didn't want to go alone (in a taxi), so Jimmy, who also not-so-secretly wanted to go to Rick's, went with her, and then Netsy tagged along.  Lots of fun for them, and Jimmy bought a T-shirt.

Bus photo, with glare.  Best I could do.

"Play it again, Sam."

Bags packed for travel, on Sunday morning, the 8th, we hailed a cab to the airport.  Thanks to United Airlines, our return home wasn't one day, it was two days.  Two long days of sitting in an airplane or an airport and no sleep.  We were grateful that, son, Matt, could pick us up Tuesday evening at the Sacramento Airport.  But, we survived and after a week at home, our jet lag was gone.

Another perk when traveling is making new friends.  We feel lucky to have spent the month with two great groups -- 15 of us in Portugal/Spain and 10 in Morocco. And it's always fun being Out and About with our best buds:  Bernice and Ibby.  Thanks go to our guides, Ulises in Portugal and Spain, and Nabil in Morocco, for shepherding us so expertly, and making these two Road Scholar programs a month-long continuation of fun, adventure, and learning.

Where to next, you ask?

Granada, Spain! to Saturday, 10/23/21

 

Here I sit in Fez, Morocco.  I have a few extra minutes to update you.  But first I need to get us out of Spain!  We had two nights in Granada, Spain.  And an entire morning at the Alhambra.  Granada translates to pomegranate in case you're wondering.  Happy to say pomegranates are ripe now, too!

On our way to Granada we stopped at the scenic mountain town of Alfarnatejo and visited the local co-op where olives are crushed into extra-virgin olive oil.  That was kinda fun.  We had a chance to taste both the plain and garlic-infused (my fav) with regional bread (pan cateto).  Our local guide was quite a character -- as in, he gave the crowd a good demo on olive-milling, followed by a walk to his aunt's (Virginia) for a yummy lunch in her house.  (He also wants to be mayor of the town 😃)  Thank goodness one of our group (Nanette) had enough Spanish to get us through lunch without much difficulty.

Me and the would-be mayor!

We endured a long day on the bus, but the drive was lovely with hills and mountains.  Herds of sheep.  And miles and miles of olive trees, both new and old, in neat rows.

My camera went to a weird setting on the drive day,

and most of my pics didn't turn out.

Friday was Granada day.  Granada's main fame comes from The Alhambra, a UNESCO heritage site.  Our local expert rattled off so much info about dynasties, kings, and dates, and who-done-who-in and who conquered what, that I gave up and started looking for birds.  I mean, the guy was fantastic, but I was overwhelmed.  Granada is more than a palace; it's an entire walled city within the City of Granada.  It's immense -- I believe we walked one million miles just touring -- royal apartments, forts, pavilions, barracks, and sumptuous gardens.

Above is a picture from Wiki, so you see its size.  We explored the Nasrid Palace, a renowned Islamic building in Europe that dates back to the 14th Century and is filled with Arabic inscriptions and geometric patterns.

Look at this Court of the Lions.  Commissioned by the Nasrid sultan Muhammed V, its construction began in the second period of his reign, between 1362 and 1391 AD.  Sorry about the picture quality, but this virtual paradise was overwhelming for a photo.  The lion fountain is center, surrounded by 124 marble columns.

Wearing light jackets to ward off the morning chill, we're standing in front of the central fountain.  It's been modified and restored several times over the centuries, and consists of a bowl-like marble basin surrounded by twelve lions, which face outwards and appear to support the bowl on their backs.  These lions were removed in 2007 for restoration on the premises while the fountain was restored in situ. The lions were put back in place in July 2012 after reconstruction of the traditional water flow system of the Court of the Lions.  Maybe more info than you want/need, but believe me, there's lots more!

Aha, I found a couple of wood pigeons.

Didn't know this.  Now I have to get the book:  Tales of the Alhambra.

The Alhambra was the icing on the cake of all the castles and palaces and fortresses we've experienced in the past two weeks.  So ... after touring, we walked down and down and down from the top on a treacherous cobblestone walkway that just about killed everybody's knees.  The carrot at the end was a wonderful and wow-oh-my-gosh-more-food?-farewell lunch!  What a grand adventure this Portugal/Spain trip has been.  Everyone leaving Spain had to get a COVID test, and that included us.  Darn tests are expensive!  The good news was NEGATIVE!

A little free time?  How about finding a laundromat and wash two weeks' worth of stinky clothes?  OK!  Now we'll be ready with clean clothes for another two weeks!

A small bye-bye Spain party at our hotel, a wrap-up if you will, was held Friday evening.  I can tell you that Jimmy and I made some great new friends on this trip.  We saw sights we never dreamed we'd see and stayed in beautiful hotels.  We saw the Atlantic from the opposite side of America.  Road Scholar always gives its travelers the best.  Hugs from Ulises, our good-lookin' guide.

Our flight to Morocco didn't leave till early Saturday evening, which gave Bernice and Ibby, Jimmy and me time to go on a final Granada walkabout.  That sweeper machine you see on the sidewalk above was cleaning the walk while people were Out and About!  

With so many cathedral choices, we picked one that offered an extra benefit (tho not planned).   A lady with a sweet voice practiced singing the Ave Maria while we were inside.  As we moved outside, we realized a wedding party was assembling.  What fun to watch the arrivals.  At least Bernice and I enjoyed seeing the wedding party garb.  We hung around till the bride arrived in a Vauxhall (car) and entered the church. 

Finally, a bite to eat before leaving for the airport.  This is the famous jamón ham being sliced thin for sandwiches.

With our bags packed, it was time to depart for the airport.  With four people and plenty of luggage, we'd arranged for a "big" taxi to pick us up at the hotel.  As the driver wheeled thru the streets, Bernice wanted to make sure he understood we needed to go to the Malaga (ma-la-ga) airport, NOT Granada.  Good thing, too!  He was on his way to the wrong airport.  Malaga was an hour-and-a-half away, but the only one to fly to Casablanca.  Of course he didn't speak English.  He called his office and got a hold of someone who had enough English to tell us the price would be 200 Euros (take it or leave it), and, so, we agreed.

All's well that ends well.  Our flight was nearly an hour delayed, but the pilot seemed to make up some of the time.  And when we arrived in Casablanca, got our luggage and made it through customs, we emerged from the airport to see a man holding a sign, all in caps:  RUTH M. AND HIS FREINDS.  Welcome to Morocco.  The sad news is that I forgot to put the small olive oil bottle I bought in my checked bag, and it was confiscated at security check-in.  Boohoo.

To Spain! Sat, 10/16/21

Woohoo!  We truly enjoyed our time in Portugal, but Jimmy and I are also anxious to see Spain.  Today we'll cross the border near the town of Olivenza, where we'll stop for a bit.  Kinda bummed out about losing an hour when we cross into Spain (new time zone), but oh well.  We will also be eating dinner at 8:00 pm tonight, about the time I'm in my robe and on the couch at home, watching a movie on Netflix (haha).  Again, oh well!  When in Spain, do as the Spaniards do!

But first, here we are at breakfast at the Convento do Espinheiro, before bidding that marvelous hotel goodbye.  Our two attendants did a quick photo bomb, which we applauded when they ran over to us.

On the road, we saw acre upon acre of olive trees, vineyards, and almond trees, new ones, as above, and gnarly old ones, too.  The sky today was somewhat overcast, but the day was warm.

Monsaraz, in far eastern Portugal, was where we stopped first.  Imagine seeing this as you approached by vehicle from below -- kind of a fairytale walled village, way up on a mountaintop.

Really, a walled village, right?

Our bus couldn't get all the way to the top because the cobblestone roads were so narrow.  But, from where the bus stopped to let us off was a spectacular view of the nearby hills, reservoir and the Guadiana River.

Gathering to hear an introduction to the town from our local guide.  Maria, I believe was her name, and she was born in Monsaraz.  The town now has a mere 40-45 (approx) permanent residents!  In days of yore, many more people lived there.

We hoofed it up the rest of the way.

Cars actually go up and down this "road."

A labyrinth of passageways leads through the medieval walled town.

Up and down!

A few of the doors must have been for elves!  All the houses are painted white, with outdoor staircases and wrought-iron balconies, which adds to its charm.  Suspended in time, this historic town, one of the oldest in Portugal, is very picturesque.

A few shops can be found along the way.  Bernice, above, enters one.  We looked but didn't buy much.  The guys stopped at a coffee parlor, one with stone floors and colorful woven rugs, stained glass windows and flowering plants ... very pretty.

The hilltop town was originally fortified by the Knights Templar!  We climbed the steps to the top of the battlements, looking down on what was once a bullfighting ring, but is now mostly used for special concerts.

Looking down from the top.

And now looking back toward Monsaraz from the bus.

Amazing, isn't it?

Next, we pulled into Olivenza, where we cross the border into Spain!  Always observant about gas prices, thanks to living in California, we saw gas in Spain was 20 cents cheaper than Portugal!  (Just a little aside for you.)  The four of us, plus Gale and Georgia, had a nice lunch in Olivenza's town square, and it's always comical when a group of non-Spanish speaking Americans tries to order food with a Spanish-speaking waiter.  But, it worked anyway!  We walked around a bit and then it was back on the bus.

Late in the afternoon, we arrived at our hotel in Seville, Spain!  Our hotel this time is located in the city center, and after checking in, we did a walk-about in the downtown area before making our way to dinner.

Some graffiti is allowed ....

One tall building in Seville, and nobody likes it 'cause it does NOT fit in!

Bullfight ring.

OK, then!  Here we are in Spain, o boy!  Tomorrow we'll go on an explore!