I enjoy looking over my Stats pages, especially seeing how many views and who my followers are. I follow most in return, and have quite a variety of site-types. I love to see the wonderful photos on the travel-type sites, because travel has always been one of my favorite pastimes, but one I can’t really do any more for a variety of reasons: mainly lack of discretionary funds, and the fact that I’m just not able to do all that running through airports and dragging heavy bags! Especially the carry-on (which I insisted on carrying-on all too many things…) and — since I had a lap-top, dragging that around. Laptops can get very heavy. But in reality, that was a few years ago, like at least ten years ago, that I even had a laptop. Now I would take my tablet with me, which is much more manageable.
One of the things that used to make my bags so heavy were that I insisted on dragging along notebooks and paperback novels enroute to my destination…and vast numbers of books and paper-stuffs from places I had been.
The most recent trips I have been able to take involved flights to Minnesota, and an occasional road-trip with a friend who has time-share condos in various cool places…like Tennessee, South Carolina, and Virginia. She drove my car, which most people do when driving with me…because I don’t really like driving that much if there is someone else to do it.
Back in the 1990s I made several trips to Mexico, to the wilds of the state of Chiapas, partially in pursuit of research trips which I combined with so-called Reality Tours with an outfit called Global Exchange. Four times I went on those trips into the mountains to indigenous villages and colonial cities–loved every minute of it! Also went on a sort of a writer’s and artist’s retreat to a great place in Oaxaca.
I traveled alone when I went on these types of trips, which originated from Mexico city and then on puddle-jumper small jets into deeper Mexico and then ground transportation into even deeper locations. That was part of the fascination, and contributed to my sense of adventure. It would have been better had I been younger, perhaps. My husband and I made numerous vacation trips to Mexico, and we sort of specialized in archeological sites. The last time I went down there before my husband died in 2000, he met me in Mexico City after a two week research trip to Chiapas. He declined participating in these activities of mine because, for one reason, he said “guys with machine guns are not my idea of fun.”
So to get back to blogging…I have thousands of photos, largely on slides, unfortunately…as they will not be easy for me to access. The photos that I have include many places in Mexico, Puerto Rico, Spain, Portugal…England…and USA spots in Minnesota, Arizona, the East Coast, Florida…. etc. I need to work out a schedule of sorts to keep my nose to the grindstone, so to speak, in getting some of this material onto my Blogs…. Sometimes, and Wonderland is a State of Mind.
It isn’t that I think anyone really cares about my carryings-on and going-ons … except ME. I want my travels and adventures, opinions, experiences…to be “out there” even if no one ever sees them. The alternative is that these stacks and boxes of slides, CDs, snapshots…just languish in drawers and musty slide-tray holders…for ever–or until someone some day goes through the stuff and dumps it in the landfill.
I have zillions of these types of slides that belonged to relatives of mine (and in-laws) that sit mysteriously in their slide holders. Sometimes these have notes on them, a date or name, or destination. Most have endless shots of people that I have no idea of their identity–obscure people standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, in darkest Africa with a group of happy natives, getting on an airplane…getting off a bus…on a boat, in a cabin…. endless. Who were these people? Where was that quaint street picture taken? It could be narrowed down to any of a few dozen of timeless shots of back streets in “old world” cities….could be Quebec, might be Madrid, possibly someplace in Germany…maybe back street Boston?
There is the occasional gem, like the one of some relatives of my husband’s, who had a summer cabin and rowed across a river to attend church on the mainland. The ladies are wearing hats (a la 1940s) and mink stoles…in a row boat. That speaks volumes–the desire to impress the rabble living out in the boondocks never dies. Well, enough of that…I will leave anyone reading this to digest that vision.