I See


Ocean_Tide_Caves

(Caves of Hercules)

Been to London

Been to France

Traveled by Train through Spain

Passing Sunflowers in the Rain

Transfixed by island of Es Vedra
Sirens of the Sea
IBIZA

Rode camels in the desert

Sit in ruins of mammoth caves
of Myths and Hercules Legions engraved
at times secluded by the tide

Walked the maze of streets
Following white feathers

Medina’s filled with spice and trinkets

Smelled the Moroccan Rose with Jasmine entwined

Views of Gibraltar from the vine filled terrace
Snow capped Rif and Atlas Mountains

Sipping mint tea from Baba’s Cafe
Smoking Kif and Hashish

My ever watchful mother’s eye on a two-year old
with wanderlust

Moments on Polaroid confiscated
Of this special place and time

Prose by

2Cynthia_Sig_Aqua copy

Tiny_Tiny_phoenix Phoenix  (Cynthia J. m ART z)

 

Es-Vedra-Ibiza

(Mystical island of Es Vedra)

Popular myths surrounding Es Vedra include that it was the home of the sirens and sea-nymphs who tried to lure Ulysses from his ship in Homer’s Odyssey, and the birth place and holy island of the Phoenician goddess, Tanit.

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Missing In France


Where is Buffy?

Keeping up with a two year old is trying in the best of situations.

In our travels through Europe, I found out the meaning of the word panic. The first incident occurred in France. We had went to the train station, resting on our sleeping bags. I closed my eyes for just a moment. Buf was sleeping peacefully. I had not rested very long. Evans had went to get us a snack. I opened my eyes and she was gone. I looked all around. Evans came back and we began our search. I was sick to my stomach, and my head was spinning. All sorts of thoughts went flashing in my mind. What if a stranger had taken her?  My baby!  At about the time we had no hope, over the announcement speakers came, “We have a young American child, would the parents please come to the central office”.

It seems she had wandered off and made friends with a Frenchman that was on a ladder painting. He had given her a pastry.

puff_pastry_france

In France puff pastry is called pâte feuilletée or feuilletage or mille feuille

Not seeing anyone with her he took her to the office.
We knew we had to be more careful. Buffy was such a good child. She was very friendly, we had instilled trust in her and with her inquisitive nature we knew the next time might not have a happy and joyous end.

In Tangier we had to let her down, and besides she was a sturdy little one. She would climb on the high walls in the medina, it would make my heart skip beats. She was fearless.
I remember another time she had been playing with a few children, laughing as they do.We were getting directions from someone and poof she had vanished! When you are in the medina, all the dwelling places look so cold and gray. We started knocking on doors. At one of these dwellings, they invited us in.

Tangier_Medina
Medina

We went down a narrow corridor and like in the Wizard of Oz everything changed. There was a beautiful courtyard with fountains and the trellis was overflowing with Moroccan Roses and Jasmine.

The music was mellow and very middle Eastern.
There in the mist was my child.
We had found her once again.

Jasmine Remains

Southbound France


Southbound

Sunflowers_France

The french name for sunflowers is tournesol.

We were so determined to reach Tangier.

A epidemic of Cholera didn’t even put fear in us. We were young and just didn’t realize how different things are in other countries. I remember sitting in central Madrid, and my fantasies  were of the matadors and fighting bulls. We had much more important things to think about.  I remember it raining so hard, and Rhea was not a light load. Up and down hills, hitching rides, going a little further each day.

It rained so much in France that I borrowed a huge umbrella. It was in one of these huge cisterns that sit in front of the quaint little cafes. It covered all three of us nicely.

I had tired of the plastic bags. I was also getting my fill of bread, yogurt, wine and cheese. After , the planes, trains, and buses  were no longer affordable, one plan of many came to mind.  It dawned on my dear that he would go on the train and find a reserved compartment.

Once onboard, he found one that was reserved for much later that evening.
The destination ~Malaga,Spain.
So, he picked the lock, and we were now sitting very comfortable in some one else’s  cabin unbeknownst to anyone. We had food and water and of course the wine.The train made lots of stops, and I would get off at various ones.

At one of these short stops, the train left. I was terrified. Evans and Rhea are a sleep on this train that just pulled out. The very nice gentleman (Bushiemb) he is from Tangier gets us a cab to the next stop, I board without any problems. As I enter the boxcar, I breathe a sigh of relief, they are both still sound a sleep.
Onward the train chugs, the sunflowers are passing by so quickly, they are so beautiful and scenic  .

The country is flat, you can see for miles. It rains off and on, and I am so glad we are not walking in it.

Malaga is a fish port, the Straights of Gibraltar separate us from the tip of Africa, Tangier,Morocco.

What happened next was not what we had in mind. The train starting slowing down. We had no idea that tickets would be checked, and  we didn’t have any. There was a lot of hollering (Spanish) which I didn’t comprehend, but I knew that it concerned us. They were so upset, they sent us back to Madrid.

Oh well,on to next plan. We had met this great couple. They had a car, and were on holiday. They invited us to go as far south as they were going, which just happened to be Malaga. We had a jolly time,and we could relax.

So, we see the countryside three times.

Those sunflowers made a lasting impression.