Unprecedented

 In a world of media hype, adjectives such as 'unprecedented' are  frequently misused to try and emphasize an event in the world of sports or other entertainment.  However, the last 9 months of 2020, truly are unprecedented.  Never before have whole societies shut down as they have since the middle of March.  School children had a 6 month 'March Break'.  Churches, gyms, malls, and restaurants were all closed.  Everyone stayed home, including me.

I have not been affected in my financial situation, as I am retired and on a nice fixed income.  I still go for walks and rode my bike all summer.  My garden benefitted from my being home much more than usual.  Both Ian's and my health has been great.  No one in the family has been infected.  It would seem that I am virtually unaffected by the pandemic.

But choirs and volunteering are off the table.   There is no singing at supported living homes.  And there is no travel.

For someone who loves to go, this is really hard.  Being almost 70, there are only a limited number of years for carefree travel and I am losing one to this COVID19.  I know that many people are losing much more and I am very fortunate, for which I am grateful.  Earlier this week there was an announcement of a potential vaccine with 90% effectiveness.  I will be in line when they start to give it out in a few months.  And the first place to go will be to the little girls in Sweden.  Internet conversations are fine, but can't substitute for the real thing, especially with the young people.  

There are more adventures waiting.

Going home?

Home is where the heart is.  Home is where you hang your hat.  Home is where your stuff accumulates.  OK, I made up that last one, but the definition of home is fluid:  where your family is, where you were raised, where you sleep, where you feel safe and comfortable.

A few years ago, I asked Richard if Sweden felt like home.  He and Jennie had been living there for some time and so the 2 year adventure was being extended.  He said yes, which was wonderful because it meant that despite the language issues, the customs, friendships, activities and space for  daily functioning gave him a sense of ease and well being.

So, today is the day we leave Ponta Delgada and return to Canada.  Yes, we are going back to where we pay the taxes and shovel the snow.  I will know where all the dishes and kitchen tools are.  We will slip back into the regular routine of choirs and stained glass.  We will pick up the mail accumulating for the last 3 weeks.

But our time here has been a comfortable routine; the apartment adequate to the life we lead here;  enough space for activities and stuff.  It has felt like home, and we hope to return next year.  A familiar sunrise through sleepy eyes, oh how happy I'll be.

Water Battle

I promised some photos from the water battle.  It is not called a water fight, but rather a battle -- this is serious!

We first experienced this annual event when we were here two years ago.  It happens on Fat Tuesday, starts about 2:30 in the afternoon, lasts about 1.5 hours and involves everyone from little kids to seniors -- whoever wishes to get in on the action.  The shops are boarded up o at least have all their glass taped over, netting is installed in front of buildings.  This year some additions were made to the preparations.  Sewers were covered with netting so that the plastic bags would not get into the waste system.  A net fence marked the battle zone -- another attempt to limit the plastic. 

Then the fun begins:  anyone who throws water balloons or plastic bags is fair game.  Spectators may get a bit wet if they are near the zone, but no one tries to hit them.  Trucks arrive with groups on the back, guys with helmets and sometimes body protection -- they throw at the people on the street and the ones below retaliate. It goes on -- sometimes one group runs out of water bags and the other group fills up their buckets with balloons so they can continue to throw. 

At the end, the cleanup starts -- one truck group helped scoop up the thousands of bags and fill the waste containers.  The cleaners work all night.  By the next day, the street is clean, the fences are gone and the reserved Azoreans are back to their normal routines.

The other side

Two years ago, Duane, Ian and I had a wonderful day tour with a guide named Henrique.  He left us with his email address and so, when we were contemplating a tour to see some of the spots on the island that we had not visited, we contacted him.

Yesterday he picked us up at 9 am and we drove to the north of the island to gather up another couple at a hotel in Capelas.  These seniors were on a promotional Madeira/Sao Miguel tour, but the tour company had them at a very nice hotel, away from all the main attractions.  They had a car, but basically had come to the same conclusion as we had, that concentrating on either the driving on narrow curvy streets or an inadequate map, left no time to enjoy the countryside. 

Enter Henrique.  Born in Lisbon, his family hails from the island and as a child, he spent all his summers here with grandparents.  Portuguese history was not only taught extensively in both primary and secondary school, but it is part of his passion for the island.  He and Ian discussed many aspects of island development and issues. 

Our tour was to be to Ribeira Dos Caleiroes (two waterfalls) park, Nordeste with scenic lookouts on the east coast, lunch in Povoacao and a drive through Furnas.  Henrique added a lava site, the tea plantation, hot springs and viewpoints on the south shore.  Ian refers to the two waterfalls park as Rivendell, being an idyllic little gorge hidden back from the north shore.

The miradour (lookouts) on the east coast were spectacular, both the lighthouse and the natural cliffs.  And they do lookouts in style, with gardens, barbeque facilities and shelters. 

Povoacao was the first settlement on the island and although the marker says 1432, there is some evidence that it was earlier. 

As before, our day was filled with excellent discussion, fabulous scenery, informative stops and a friendly atmosphere.  Henrique said he has never been as busy as this year in the winter.  Let's hope that there aren't too many tourists to destroy this place.

Aging gracefully (or wrong turn)

This post was supposed to be about aging gracefully, but the wrong turn happened.  More about that later.

I was never a fashionista so having the right colour or style was never an issue for me.  As I have grown older, it has not been a consideration for me if I am wearing clothes appropriate to my age.  Hair, however, is a different matter.  Yes, I have always been vain about my hair -- it was my best feature.  After getting it cut and permed in Grade 8 for Confirmation, I let it grow and adopted the straight style of the 60s and 70s --it wouldn't do much else anyway.  Summer always bleached my hair and at about 17, I started to use Sun-In to keep that summer look all year.  Well, that was just haircolour and so I started visiting the hair dresser every 6 weeks.  Well, when kids came along, priorities changed and there were more time constraints, I turned to Nice and Easy.  In my 30s and 40s, the long straight style still suited me and so I continued to get a trim about once a year and just touched up the roots regularly.  I did notice that some 'older' women were also keeping that style and there was quite a shock when you saw them from the back and then there was the very mature face in front.  Not for me, I decided. 

A few years ago, I noticed that what I was colouring was a bit grey and so about 2 years ago, I decided to let the grey take over.  My sister had gone through that process and her hair was almost white.  Perfect, going from blonde to white would be fine.

Well, I let it grow and grow.  No white, just grey with some streaky bits.  Last November I took the plunge and got it cut short -- even shorter than that previous minimum back when I was 12.  It is incredibly easy to take care of and a bicycle helmet is not problem.  There, growing old, gracefully, instead of clutching onto youth.

So today I planned to ride across the island, gracefully.  I was not going to take the hardest, fastest route, but rather the one which slopes gradually up and down.  Still, it is a 200 m climb both ways. Going to Ribiera Grande worked out perfectly, but coming back, I took the wrong turn at a traffic circle and found myself on the main highway (max 100, min 40).  It had a wide shoulder and I took the first exit after I realized my error.  But it was a much more steep climb than I had anticipated and so the ride lacked a lot of grace.

Wrong turns will happen and they will stress me.  I hope to have the grace to admit a mistake and make it right as soon as possible.

Stepping into Tradition

Good morning.  It is 10:10 and we have just arrived at the main square where the parade route has been set up.  Two giant loudspeakers are pounding out music, traditional, in a 2, 2 beat.  A few people have already arrived and are seated on chairs, obviously they know the routine and have come early to claim prime spots.  There are 2 little girls next to me in elaborate costumes -- one even has her hair sprayed gold to match her crown and sequined dress.

More people are arriving all the time.  It seems that the spectators are children under 5 -- all dressed up-- and adults, some with colourful leis, but mostly in normal clothes.  The snack sellers are zeroing in on the kids to entice them to lollipops or multicoloured popcorn.  Most people know someone and greet them with the usual kiss on both cheeks.  A red and white coordinated lady in a wheelchair pushes to the rope barrier beside me -- she will get a good view.  The assembly is getting into the spirit of the event, singing along with the canned music.

It's now 10:25 and the police arrive.  The officer on the motorcycle will clear the path in front of the parade.  The cameras are out.

A small group on stilts leads.  The groups that follow are usually in themed costumes -- many elaborate and obviously purchased for the occasion.  The 'sea' group has crabs, octopi, squid, starfish, shells, regular fish, kelp beds, sharks, manta rays, turtles and clownfish.

The children that follow, from kindergarten to highschoolers are decked out in every imaginable costume -- spacemen, pizzas, animals, clown, bumblebees, clocks, tetris bricks, fruits, knights, exotic dancers, etc, etc.  Many of the kids look like they would rather be somewhere else, but some are dancing to the beat and engaging the crowd by tossing confetti or streamers.

After more than an hour, the last of the adult groups have passed me by.  The crowd is dispersing.  All that is left is the litter.  It was a great parade!  See you next year.

Jardim de Palacio de Sant'Ana

We did make it to the third garden.  It is the grounds of the official functions of the government here -- read signing of papers and diplomatic receptions.  It was built in the mid nineteenth century and we had to present identification and wear visitor badges.  And the decorative gardens, now in their early spring finery, were decked out in pansies. 

But..... the trees on the property are spectacular!  The Pohutukawa is deemed the most notable in the garden and it is amazing.  It's like a cave and fort and climbing structure all in one.  The low hanging branches have grown roots and then developed into shoots of their own.

The specimen trees of many kinds of myrtle, camellia, cryptomeria, rhododendron, magnolia, kauri, paper bark tea tree have been enjoying the park for decades and stand waiting to be admired.  And admire we did!