I was traveling from Newark, NJ to Dayton, OH for a few days. I had a layover in Philadelphia (airport from hell, if you ask me). I flew US Airways. I had a small carry-on suitcase with my clothes and paraphernalia, which was gate checked as I got on the plane in Newark. US Airways uses tiny planes, and they take your carry-on baggage from you as you get on the plane (a fact I was made aware of just a minute before I got on the plane). I was handed a yellow baggage tag and I put it on the bag just before it went on the cart that they loaded all the bags onto.
Saw this on my morning walk. We built a fence, nature ignores fence.
We stayed at a friend's house recently during our travels. They have a cat that will only drink running water from a tap. She is not a very touchy-feely cat but when it's time for a drink, she will hang around you, run up & down the stairs till you get the message that she wants a drink. The water pressure has to be just right. Neither too much nor too slow. She waits until it is right ( accompanied by a couple of "you are incompetent" looks) & then puts her head under the tap to cool off, shakes excess water off & proceeds to drink.
Went on an amazing trip - drove from Vancouver through the Rockies. Spent 3 nights near Fields BC, got to see some incredible glacier melt lakes - Lake Louise, Morrainne. Caught up on Canadian history - how they built the still functioning Canadian Pacific Railways in the 19th century. Also didn't know that Canada is an American Indian/First Nations word - Kanata - it means settlement/village/place to live.
“Beneath a canopy of trees, under the falling rain…”
We zip through the winding roads, amidst acres of lush green dotted with lakes. Grey skies with bursting thunderclouds pass by… It seemed that nature itself had turned into a song. The spreading mist draws over the green landscape. The car speeds up the hill, as I recognize the familiar curves of the hairpin bends.
Usually a post on a holiday in Goa begins with the sea, and ends with the sea, and there'd be many mentions of the sea in between … words about the beaches, the sand, the private beach you couldn’t reach, the lounging, the shacks, ‘susegad’, packed shacks, Martin’s Corner, sunset at Betalbatim, interspersed with vegetarians cribbing about the lack of options and the meat eater canoodling with ‘children of sea’, but it always comes back to the sea and the beaches… the white… the blue… the foam… the froth… gentle waves… silent… peaceful… calm. This year we muddled up the mix.
This monument stands in the south of Mumbai, in one corner of the original city of Bombay. This is a monument that most Mumbaiites would have visited at least once, or passed it on their way to Elephanta Caves or to catch the ferry for Alibaug.
Just off bustling Hill Road in Bandra, there are roads that lead you deep into an East Indian village. Paved narrow lanes lined with more than 100-year-old buildings, tightly squashed together in communion, this is a mix of communities and ethnicities all living together and sharing space. Cars, small vans and autos honk their way through keeping you on your toes, but there is a peace about these lanes, a quietness that comes from having been around way longer than you and me.