TravelswithCharie

Horseshoe Falls* As luck would have it, it was raining all the way from Toronto to Niagara-on-the-Lake. Heavy rains and strong winds bent my umbrella out of shape as we stopped to enjoy some of the many attractions, leaving me drenched but exhilarated by the beauty of the region. Niagara-on-the-Lake is situated on the mouth of Niagara River as it rambles on its way to Lake Ontario. The temperate climate and soil condition have given birth to a thriving wine industry. This is how we found ourselves in a wine cellar being educated in the fine art of wine tasting. Following the example of our guide, we raised our wine glasses, peered through the crystal to check for color and clarity, gently swirled the goblet to let the wine breath, brought the glass to the tips of our noses to inhale the bouquet of the wine before finally sipping it, tossing it around in our palates as we savored its body. Last but not least, we were told to spit out the wine (for which spittoons were provided), but I o

Taking tentative steps into the center of town, I was greeted by a cacophony of tongues, some familiar, some not, all proclaiming that Toronto is indeed "the world within a city". Toronto lies on the northern banks of Lake Ontario, the smallest of the Great Lakes. The visitor is at once drawn to the lake and Toronto Islands, a short ferry hop from Harbourfront. Standing on the bow of the ferry, I watch some ducks waddling along, like a chorus line of some sort, directly ahead of us. When the boat blew its horn, they broke ranks and flew in all directions only to return shortly thereafter, oblivious of danger. Suddenly I saw lighting strike in the distant skies and I moved to safety. From my new vintage point, I could see CN Tower punctuating the Toronto skyline. Sky Dome, home of the Blue Jays, looked like a perfectly inflated balloon. It was quiet in the islands and the park was nearly empty this early in the summer season. I would have loved to walk from one island to the o

Batu Bolong As our Combi van coughed its way up to Kintamani on the northern side of the island, the sky suddenly gave way to torrential rain quickly inundating the narrow mountain road.  The Combi sputtered then died.  Our driver started and restarted the engine in vain while our guide tried to reassure us that this rain would be short-lived as they always are in this part of the world.  The heavy downpour was now threatening to carry our van downhill with it.  Speeding vehicles were passing us, splashing muddy water on our van as they sped away.  After what seemed like an eternity, the engine sprang back to life and we slowly edged our way to Penelokan for lunch and front center row view of Gunung Batur (Mt. Batur) volcano and Lake Batur.  We sat impatiently through lunch waiting for the veil of mist that shrouded the volcano to lift.  A faint hint of sunlight and we finally caught a glimpse of Mt. Batur with its perforated peak surrounded by the lush valley floor and lake. All t

San Miguel Mission Church* For years I’ve followed the Top 10 list of favorite travel destinations in North America and have noted that Santa Fe has consistently made the grade. I could no longer contain my curiosity so I packed my bag and headed to this Southwest town. I was eager to check the veracity of this rating. Situated on the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) mountains, Santa Fe sits high and dry at 7000ft. The stark desert landscape deceived my eyes. It gave me the impression that the ocean was just beyond the horizon. Punctuating the flat terrain are mountains ascending to 12,000 feet. This landscape has been the inspiration for many artists who have made Santa Fe their home. Among these was Georgia O’Keeffe who settled in Abiquiu, a few miles north of the city. The O’Keeffe Museum has a fine collection of the artist’s New Mexican landscapes and startling floral paintings. Much controversy has revolved around O’Keeffe’s larger-than-life flowers. But once yo

Surprising Portugal is an old article I wrote prior to 2005. *****  

Bay Area residents have the enviable position of living in close proximity to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, the only US venue of the Marc Chagall retrospective. The exhibition features 153 paintings and works on paper created by the artist from 1907 to 1970 and will run through November 4th. It provides a comprehensive and rare look at the unique oeuvres of this Russian-born painter. Chagall had a long artistic career during which he was exposed to various art movements but he maintained an independent stance.  While in Paris as an art student, Chagall neither aligned himself with the Cubists nor with the Suprematists from Russia. He later declined to join the Surrealist group in 1924 when he returned to France. What is evident in the SF-MOMA retrospective is that while Chagall borrowed from various artistic styles, he created a highly personal and distinctive body of works. The exhibition is divided into four artistic periods from 1910 to 1983. The Russian years from 1910 -

We’re standing on the open deck of the cruise ship staring intently at Margerie Glacier, a few hundred feet in front of us. With cameras ready, my fellow passengers and I are waiting to see the glacier calve and hopefully catch it on film. By now we know what to watch out for. After seeing a few, our ears have become attuned to the “sumdum”, the Tlingit (klink-it) word for the booming sound when ice calves and crashes into the water below.  Calve  is the word for ice breaking from the face of the glacier. Only two hundred years ago, Glacier Bay as we know it now, did not exist. The explorer, Capt. George Vancouver had observed in 1794 that ice measuring 4000 ft. thick and 20 miles wide covered the area and extended 100 miles to the St. Elias Mountain Range. In 1879, the naturalist, John Muir, noted that the ice had retreated some 48 miles. Today, we can see how the glacier has receded since then as we cruised all the way into Tarr inlet, about as far north as we could travel and some 6