Looking through my huge archive of photos today in the reference library, I saw that I had neglected connecting all the animals I had rubbed shoulders with on my travels around the world. I feel I need to correct this seeing as animals are my favourite things.
ELEPHANT SANCTUARY THAILAND, CHIANG MAI.
Jokey baby elephant and guides
Let’s face it animals are part of every aspect of our lives The good, bad and ugly. They feature in religions past and present, they live with us, they entertain and fascinate us, and we eat them. I don’t want to get embroiled here on how much modern humans abuse them rather than revere them, that’s for another time. I just want to casually look over some of my encounters to remind us why we yearn to be on the move and experience the mundane and exotic.
OR, TRAVELLING WITH MY NEW RAILCARD, BEING ANCIENT HAS SOME COMPENSATIONS. I have been missing as I’ve been working on the farmyard collection that I’m doing for a show while trying to write my book […]
FOR MY OLD BIRDS ALL OVER THE WORLD, FINALLY WRITING THE BOOK.
“I want to do it because I want to do it. Women must try to do things as men have tried. When they fail, their failure must be but a challenge to others.” Emily Dickinson
Alert: Here we have the idea of this blog, concept and birth. I’ve left the dates more to remind me that it’s nearly five years old. And now I’m turning it into a book, I need to revisit and expand upon those two hundred and seventy-plus blogs.
Starting the book has made me humble and proud at the same time. It’s also made me realise how sloppy and casual I was depending on my pics and videos to do the real leg work. Well, no more Mrs Sloppy. A book without pictures requires the written word to encompass the vivid wonder of those travelling photos and to be eloquent enough to tell the reader what was seen, smelled, tasted, touched and felt. To put those pictures into words dammit!
2019-04-15 From blog intro all those years ago.
OLD BIRDS NEST PAGE: THE ETHOS OF DOING IT ALONE
Hello, my name is Rebecca Taylor, or Old Bird to you, and I’m here to guide you older birds on braving the big old world out there and doing it alone. Come with me and I’ll nurse you through the highs and lows of being an Old Bird travelling solo. This is more of a raucous journal with some culture and tips thrown in. Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it. It’s sometimes shouty-sweary, so if you’re a delicate bird you’ll have to excuse me. [Go first to OLD BIRD FLYING SOLO BLOG so we can shake hands then go anywhere in the list that you wish to get started.]
This is the place for an older birdie to visit and, hopefully, gain the confidence to strike out on their own. Yes, we older birds don’t always have to be in a flock, they can do it alone and it’s not as scary as you think. The world is your oyster, as an older woman or man indeed, you should be out there doing all these things and revelling in life.
I will hop around timewise as the writing of the diary becomes insignificant when you’re experiencing so many wonderful things. Some of it is funny and some plainly ludicrous but all a part of an old bird travelling solo! Enjoy! I’ll take you all over the world. In different forms of transport, doing different activities, eating different kinds of food and exploring places you never even thought about before. I will attempt to nurse you through any pitfalls with hints and tips and generally share the whole experience warts and all.
I’ll many times be daft as a brush and screw up so you don’t have to. I’ll get you there with your preparations, nurse your anxieties, laugh at myself and show you stuff you might want to see and do.
Welcome to the fine art of mature solo travelling. For it is an art, it takes the years you might feel you don’t have left, so I humbly offer all my mistakes so you don’t have to make them. I will also crow when I get something right.
“You arethe one that possesses the keys to your being. You carry the passport to your own happiness” – Diane von Furstenberg
OR, CONSTANT CRUSHING BLOWS DESPITE A POSITIVE ATTITUDE. AND PIGGY IN THE MAKING TO START THE YEAR WITH SOME BACON!!
I piss on you 2023!
Alert: Hello, you beauties. As you can see this is very late. A string of misfortunes kicked me in the crutch from when I started this post. Limping miserably into 24 I had a new horrible happening. On New Year’s Day, I was running around doing positive stuff like you do when I swallowed a clove whole in my parasite-purging tea and it acted like a bomb to my system. I became terribly ill a couple of hours later with pains all over my body like gnomes with pickaxes assaulting me. I also flopped weak like a rag doll into bed and then had terrible chills, I was also semi-hallucinating. I would find out later these are indeed symptoms of clove poisoning. For the next four days, my body went into total detox and I coughed like a navvy as well as fluctuating between being hot then freezing cold. My fever finally broke on the fourth night as my soaking bed bore testament. I’m much better now and feel mentally brighter than I have for months. , it would seem that a reckless swig of herbal tea is a cruel master but does have its benefits! There is always a positive side to all adversity.
Well hello, my beautiful old birds. Let’s dance naked around the Fire of the Dead 2023. Let’s exalt in its demise and hope to flush away the demonic entities that manipulated it worldwide. Let’s spit on its war-mongering ashes for it indeed has been a beast.
The classic faux pas that a novice would do, not a veteran traveller like me. I thought that I would treat myself to just the one as I was bored on my last day. I’d been to the museum in the morning and planned to finish my blog after. It was then the WiFi started playing up and so did I. Not having a book is another schoolgirl error and I had finished mine a long time back up in the mountains.
Top of the world ma. Broken foot or not I still travelled on in Mexico
Just the one I thought as I glugged down an icy beer in the last of the days sunshine. Then I trotted off to where I was to meet my cousin and as he was late another frothy concoction was quaffed. At the restaurant of course I had to join him for one, two then three over dinner. A nightcap is mandatory by then. I had no water in my room and I slept badly needing a lot of wees in the night. Truly stupid of me knowing I had an early flight. Lack of sleep, too many beers and also rising hysteria about returning to ghastly England.
Beer always in the equation this time round in Turkiye
Apart from getting lost on the way to the airport everything else seemed to go smoothly despite my weariness, headache and nausea until my phone pinged at the gate. Our plane is bust they are getting us a fresh one and here the agony begins. You know when they say just over and hour it’s bollacks, it’s going to be a ghastly amount of pissing about and suffering, not just for me with my hangover, but all the women who’ve just had beauty surgery in İzmir. I say beauty in a very general way as one doubts the stapling of stomachs and filing down of teeth for veneers could ever be for beautification in any way shape or form. The trout pouts and enlarged breasts, hips and bums are macabre to say the least and flying straight after must endanger you. From what I overheard in a nosy way was that they all were already feeling a little poorly before this delay.
OR, MY BRAVE NEW WORLD, NOT WHAT THE ELITES HAVE IN MIND.
View from my friend and neighbours house at sunset
Every day here in Turkiye has been a blessing except for the house hassle. This I will set aside for today. Every day I see a new side of the magnificent countryside in it’s raw brutal strength, mountains of rugged and often dangerous secrets, olive fields with animals roaming beneath their ancient boughs and wild flowers that pop up overnight despite the apparent arid land. Snakes and scorpions are what the locals most fear but I’ve been blessed in not having a sudden venomous surprise under the many rocks I have moved and the dark tunnels that have been exposed by my work. The chickens seem to tidy up the nasty bugs for me and Mother Nature has thus far been benevolent to me.
The pure mountain water beside the mosque where I go each day to wash some of the dirt from my face and arms and have a long, cool drink
Surprise in the ivy I was clearing. A hawk moth larva.
My morning dog piss
The capturing of my beautiful garden one last time.
OR, REST DAY TODAY AFTER OVERDOING IT IN MY GARDEN
Hammock number two
I woke up last night with a truly terrible cramp in my calf. The muscle was so rigid and the pain so intense I couldn’t even swing it to the floor to push against it. I knew that it would result in muscle burn and that today plans had to be changed. Then when I awoke in the morning I ate almonds for the magnesium and some dried apricots and then had a spell of nausea. I should have known I was imploding after having a terrible deep siesta sleep the previous day that you feel you will never be able to resurface from. Clearly I had a bit of sunstroke A day of rest was in order. A Zen day today my friends, some yoga and meditation after my last few hectic days.
OR A BIT OF ZEN KUNDALINI MUSIC AND A DOG, GO A LONG WAY TO HAPPINESS AND TRANQUILITY.
My neighbour who oversees my work
Since writing this, sadly it appears the sale will not go through after a long weary time of yes, no situation as laws and catastrophes have occurred and misunderstandings and recriminations. I will however never forget my magical time in my garden. I am heartbroken and desolate so am going on a road trip to try to calm myself. I’m still trying to fix this as eternally an optimist! I’ll keep you posted x I’ll also be adding photos and final hammock film
OR, HOW I FOUND MY MATE ELIF FROM KENT MUSEUM BUSILY STARTING THE ZEYBEK MUSEUM UP THE ROAD!
New museum in Tire.
NEVER TIRED OF TIRE!
Me and Elif outside the museum.
This beautiful old house has a collection of historical artefacts running through from approximately the 16th century up to the era of Attaturk. Its proud history has been well-curated and was an eye-opener to me! Strong and wily people the Zeybeks are worth a good look at and you can clearly see the resistance of the ancestors in those who live here now. I must add that I also said to Elif, that a lot of the showcases and items had the aura and feel of the Mexican bandits of old. She agreed. The anecdote about the purple bolero in the womans showcase was also hers.
Apparently, if a woman was beaten by her husband she would don that purple bolero as a sign for the rest of the village to shame him and also give him a beating. Sounds a very good plan!
The purple bolero that signed a man was a wife beater.
When finally I got back to the mountains and went up to my garden a bit of a shock was in store for me.
Brambles and vines hide a wall down to a secret garden
The beautifully ploughed field was shoulder-high in weeds and very thorny thistle-like weeds, and the trees had all got a lot bigger! Not just a bit, but about doubled in size. I turned my attention to the top terraces by the broken beautiful carcass of a house and there I saw nothing but weeds, ivy, vines, rocks and bloody plastic. I would have to have a proper plan and I needed a less shocked and overwhelmed brain to process it. I would have to put my gardener’s brain in gear and see what could be achieved that wasn’t reckless and well, a waste of time till the rebuild.
In the exposed secret garden, Henry the Tortoise has reappeared and Doggo who ‘helps’ with the garden. I say that loosely as he feels kipping on newly cleared bits and chewing pine cones his main job.
OR, LUSH GARDENS IN THE MOUNTAINS AND FABULOUS ARTEFACTS
I made it the other day to my paradise and was exulted to breathe that clean mountain air again and drink water from the mountain spring. After being here in winter the garden had developed into a jungle of flowers (especially orchids), herbs, vegetables and fat fish swam lazily in their pool unaware that for some it would be their last day before being cooked!
The family gave me such a welcome that it brought tears to my eyes. I had been gone so long! A great fuss was made of me which made me very happy indeed. My pals were very impressed too! It looks like I’ll be squeezed into a cabin there as I’m family!
OR, ARTY TURKIYE HERE I COME. Alert: Another unplanned absence folks but been busy getting ready! The Things Old Birds Can Do To Earn a Crust Abroad. Although there can be a lot of casual […]
OR, TRYING TO KEEP SANE WHILE WAITING ON MY MOVE.!
I’m still waiting, and we all know how I hate waiting.
Haircut and newly designed and upcycled favourite shirt!
Been nearly two months since returning from Turkiye’s beautiful mountains. Easter, Ramadam and Idh had to be got through in my eternal endeavour with the long slow machinations of red tape.
In the mountains in Turkiye.
My seeds should have gone in and I should be half-through rebuilding but one person’s cock-up has ground it all to a halt.
Fairy Dell in Londons Hyde Park
On Monday I got out of bed and cut my bloody hair. Swore I wouldn’t cut it until my move had gone through. This was clearly a bad idea. I looked like I had a mullet and my hair was, well, heavy. Chop chop and that was sorted. Next was to paint over the writing on the back of my favourite shirt. I had already done it once but forgot to seal it with an iron and washed most of the design off with the bloody letters staying firmly in place. So I got to it and was very pleased with my Boho look along with a neat short ponytail.
OR, WHEN IT WARMS UP YOU FEEL THE SUMMER HEAT IN AEGEAN TURKEY IN THE MOUNTAINS.
It might be warm at the coast but it’s very fresh up here.
An abandoned house and garden in a largely abandoned village.
Walking up the mountain alone most days it was lovely for my friend Ege and his brother to come to visit. They were so enthusiastic and made me feel like I was seeing it all afresh. Instead of moaning about the effing Rottweiler, the bane of my life on the walking shortcut, I take most days, I could enjoy going up to the mosque and spring water fountain by car. Beyond there we walked and what a beautiful landscape unfolded before us.
INLAND TURKEY IN SPRING, IN LIKE A LION AND OUT LIKE A LAMB.
Alert: Sorry for the big delay but my plans obviously changed after the ghastly events here with the earthquakes. On finally deciding to come I had a few other hiccups. My Turcel phone decided that it wasn’t working after me topping it up with a data package, well it worked but just for one day. It’s crazy we have spent literally hours on the phone trying to find out why they are insisting that I set up an account over three months ago the idiots! Also, yesterday, when I was writing this, Google decided something more had to be paid on my email so I had that drama too as I kinda need emails for tickets etc. Also, I was told my photo limit was full so I couldn’t store pics. I spent hours trying to resolve it all and had no luck. Other bits threw me off so I sulked a bit, drank beer and got nowhere. I’ll fix it on my return to London but as we know travel always throws a few curved balls to check your mettle!
Loving the fresh mountain air and bubbling streams of the spring water
Springtime in Turkiye is a beautiful thing, especially when you’re escaping a dreary down-in-the-mouth London. It’s full of little lambkins and alpine flowers, olive trees as far as you can see and the soft green fuzz of fresh grass. Water can be heard along the way gurgling in the mountain streams. The villages are stirring after the short but sharp winter and life starts new and fresh. This is the time most tourists don’t see and indeed it is a very different land from the parched land in the summertime.
Breakfast on my first morning
My usual preparations of cleaning and tidying my place in Soho left me clear-headed and ready to travel. I was heading for a village inland from Izmir, having managed to book a little chalet at an extensive lodge in the foot lands.
OR, LAKE BAIKAL WITH ITS -40 WIND CHILL IS REALLY NIPPY!
Alert: Just wanted to look back on my Trans Siberian Express adventure birdies. I can say it was a truly magnificent solo trip and very suitable for lone travellers. The beauty of seeing the huge terrain, art and culture keeps one busy and happy with no loneliness creeping in. Links of various places are available when underlined and in bold type.
Just because it’s cold and wintry we are all complaining, normally we would welcome this for the festive season but our heightened awareness of the rip-off bills that will ensue. Escape with me on trips when I thrilled at all bracing weather as I knew it would be toasty wherever I was staying.
Purple cheeks near frostbite!
I had left in February so knew it would be a winter viewing of the harshest time of the year but I loved every brutal minute. I know that Russia is being demonised at the moment but I was talking to a lovely lady the other day who was desperate to get on that magnificent choo-choo before she dies.
View of the frozen Lake Baikal at sunset.
So here I recall a previous reminder of those chilly trips until my next trip actual to Turkey in January. Enjoy the frostiness and the ride!
ARE YOU MAD REBECCA?!!!..COLD, COLD PLACES AND HOW TO PREPARE.
Siberian winter from train.
…NO I’M NOT. A LOT OF YOU WILL ONLY WANT AND FEEL SAFE TO TRAVEL MUCH LATER THIS YEAR AND YOU SHOULD PREPARE FOR YOUR….
Alert: This is from a page on my site with bits added. It’s to get you old girls prepped up for colder trips when the travelling will have become a lot laxer again hopefully. Until then get yourself ready and take note from this post the way to approach any cold trip. There are links all the way through to help a bit
My trusty boots that served me so well and didn’t cost a fortune
I come to you just the day before a bit of a milestone birthday, it’s sixty-five. Boom. Well not really. I always say I’m a year older so I’ve been that for the last year. I lie about my age in a different way, sort of back to front, a year older every year.
This is a very apt video I made for my blog at the very beginning.
In love with life, I don’t really care how old I am I just love living it and that involves learning and exploring day by day. Without this, as I’ve said before, I am a shell of a person and no longer able to function. I think that’s how most people are but they aren’t lucky enough to pursue walking on the wild side and this eventually leads to going to seed mentally and physically and ultimately dying from lack of input and loneliness.
OR, ESCAPING JAKARTA AND THE JOURNEY ON TO BUNAKEN, SNORKELLERS HEAVEN.
And finally paradise.
I rushed to leave Jakarta for my final destination of Bunaken. I was so happy to be on the road again (or should I say in the air) that I never even contemplated it being dark when I arrived at the bustling port of Manado in North Sulawesi. It was, and the hotel was scary, and the place was alarming, but I had got there and would spend the night before bartering for a boat ticket first thing the next morning.
OR, GOING WILD WITHOUT A GUIDE IN BAKO NATIONAL PARK BORNEO
The beach. Reward after the trek but sadly no sight of Mr Crocodile
Gimme some wild savage land and I’ll show you a happy woman. (Oh and a map that tells you what colours to follow for easy, medium or hard routes. I’ll still screw up but still be very happy!!!)
Morning boat to the park entrance.
After ghastly Kuching, I sped along the motorway in a cab at the crack of dawn to go to my pickup point for the Bako National Park. The place is a simple cafe where you grab much-needed caffeine and a life jacket then jump into a boat to go to a remote section of the park designed, in hopefully a foolproof way, for a wonderful jungle trek for all levels of difficulty. The boat ride which lasted about half an hour took us past fabulous rock formations and mangroves leading to dense jungle.
I had travelled from London to India, then Thailand to the Philippines and onward to the North of Borneo to a remote sanctuary for the now near extinct sun bear, and orangutan, a rehabilitation centre par excellence. It had been a wild journey already to get to this point, a lot of challenges and really living my best life.
Little family who turned up in the afternoon.
The shy sun bear with its long talon like claws for digging.
I had swum with whale sharks, visited Mogul palaces and forts, gone by horse up volcanic mountains in lake to see the emerald acid lake within that. I had gazed upon the Taj Mahal and other places of such beauty that I had been transfixed. I had had some adventures and laughed later, after the dramas were over. I had eaten a huge array of food and swum in crystal waterfall pools. I had seen art in museums that filled my soul with joy and learnt many things about cultures and ideas previously unknown to me. This trip had already held so much magic that I felt couldn’t be surpassed, nothing could surprise me. How wrong I was. Upon meeting the ‘Old Man of the Woods’ or ‘Wise Old Man of the Jungle’ I was in love. Seeing the insane flora and fauna I was gobsmacked and felt I was in for a roller-coaster of emotions. I was right.
OR, CULTIVATE PLANTS TO COOK YOUR WAY TO OTHER COUNTRIES!
July 28th 2022
Abundance!
Since I last checked in my terrace jungle has blessed me with more than enough produce than I need on a daily basis. Despite the chemtrails it seems that my lovely jungle is thriving. I would highly recommend that people grow their own fruit and veg on their terraces if land isn’t available to them in the form of an allotment or a friends garden.
Lemon cucumbers
I have shared with neighbours and even after eating greedily and still was able to freeze three portions of beans yesterday! I also have frozen some squash as I did earlier this year with some of my brothers crop.
I’ve been eating salad of herbs, lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes and nasturtium every day and have had various combos of calaloo, squash, beans and potatoes for my veg with my dindins!
In its hammock
I have to confess that the naughty squash do like to grow outside the railings so I had to invent and make some string hammocks for them except for one big boy that grew between the railings just to make my life more complicated!
Monster squash, black and green beans , tomatoes, lemon and gherkin cucumbers
I had a drama getting it in as it weighed 2.9 kg. I sweated and swore as I perilously cut it with one hand and with the other wiggled it out from the railings, then lifted it over while tangled up with all the vines. They are quite prickly too, so with my trembling arms I navigated it over to safety! It was worth doing as I was terrified it would fall off and kill someone walking innocently below! Dangerous beasts.
Homemade grana bread rolls with added seeds
I’ve also just started making my own bread. I’d forgotten it’s not a drama at all and so much more healthy and cheap. Take the bull by the horns girls and do it! The smell in the kitchen is amazing and it makes you feel all warm and safe. This goes side by side with making my own soap, body butter and tooth paste. You can escape all the nasty fluorides and chemicals that’s in the commercial crap. I’ll keep you posted on recipes and ingredients shortly but I have to run now!
Delicious spuds and calaloo with organic smoke salmon and butter
Alert: although this had been written in a rambling way you’ll have to excuse me! Much like this whole experience, it’s been penned as an ongoing experiment. Just how do you gather your thoughts when undertaking far too many things? I’m happy that my life is busy with things I am passionate about but it does lead to cutting corners. Anyhow, I’ll correct and add later in my very impatient old bird way. Publish and be damned!
My first lettuces cohabiting with my poor fig tree which now is a much happier specimen
See the happy fig tree in the jungle?
If you can’t get away but want to conjure up recipes with vegetables and herbs from distant parts of the world, get gardening and grow more exotic stuff than you can get locally. If you have access to a farmers market make sure the stall is organic at the least, biodynamic even better. The stuff I didn’t have time to grow this season might be available. There are weird and wonderful as well as things like stinging nettles that are extremely good for you.
While looking wistfully through James Wong’s Homegrown Revolution’ the other day, and seeing an article about growing potatoes on Mars, (yes you heard me right) I started to look at all the remarkable, lesser-known and easily grown, veggie stuff you could have ready this year to create an imaginary trip to another part of the planet in your garden and kitchen.
My little figgies
Now since originally writing this, I had to recognise I was running out of time to grow anything, let alone start with more exotic stuff and only managed to get non-GMO organic calaloo seeds on the go so I’ll just have to show you how I did on my small terrace in Soho with the more conventional fruit and veg.
OR, HOW A OLD BIRD CLIMBED TWO MOUNTAINS IN A DAY.
This post from exactly a year ago in Mexico is a favourite of mine memory wise. It was a solo travellers demanding type of day with hardship but then huge rewards. This is the way we rock us old birds, moaning a lot but loving it!
The sun was shining…
When I made the decision to visit prehistoric cave dwellings that have been inhabited for 10,000 years I thought it would be a little tricky but not that hard. yesterday I worked my little travellers socks off to visit two of the major sites in Mitla. I had chosen two, maybe three places but hadn’t anticipated that they weren’t just there like most tourist sites, they are tricky to get to and a lot of leg work. I would advise not to try for them unless you’re feeling top notch and are prepared to go slowly.
Now I’ve been to Mitla two years ago to see the famous Mayan site of Mitla and also Hierve el Agua, which now sadly is permanently closed. Both were things of wonder so I was excited to be even more daring this time with a bit of pre history caves and their paintings all in the same area. I have always wanted to see some more ancient art in caves but have only once before been to an island off Sicily and no photos were allowed but here one has the privilege of getting out the old camera. I had no idea how remote they actually were and how hard you had to climb on treacherous slippery terrain after the rains. Although the soil had dried off there are a huge number of springs which are obviously spurting out excess water as you go higher up and make the soil and rocks really slick.
MY SUNDAY OUTING TO VISIT 10.000 YEAR OLD ANCESTRAL CAVES.
OR, OVER A YEAR AGO “THIS IS REALLY HARD MY HOLIDAY ROMANCE WITH SWIMMING DOG IS OVER.”
TODAY.
Getting into food again after my month-long tummy problems
It’s now more or less one year since I left Punta Allen and my doggy. I’m still homesick for it all there but checked online and the prices are huge in Punta Allen Mexico at the moment. I’ll still to my Turkey plan for the moment. Plans are swooping in and out of my life at the moment as the political climate changes in a heartbeat worldwide and I don’t want to make a mistake and have to come home again. I want another long-term stay somewhere and Turkey so my present baby.
Lost my Turkey cap so am going forward with the Vietnam one!!
Turkey will nourish my soul for huge swathes of archaeological sites and magnificent countryside, that I have not yet visited. It will offer me fabulous food and incredible vistas, I will look into possibilities of living there to grow my veg and make my art. I will generally get back to my wandering ways and hopefully regain some lost confidence.
So a brief look over my shoulder to the last place I was truly happy, then onwards and upwards to pastures new. Come on old birds let’s rock it again.
A YEAR AGO FROM THE JOURNAL
Alert: Nostalgia and crybaby form most of this post. If you can’t be arsed with a grown woman and a tough old cookie at that, boohooing over a dog just look at the pics!!
Alkidas ears flapping in the breeze.
My dear old birds this is why you keep moving because if you stay a while anywhere, you form attachments. I am so down it’s beyond belief. The weather isn’t helping nor are the dogs, especially Alkida, who is blissfully unaware of my departure. I’m down, really down. It’s ridiculous I can’t stop crying. Punta Allen has been a huge learning curve and these hounds have been my best friends (apart from Sonia of course).
Alert: Another post from a year ago in Mexicos’ Punta Allen. Just shows the completely different and happy lifestyle I had over there in comparison to being in London. My moaning about the trivial was so insignificant in comparison to what I’m encountering here. I rectified the photo problem so I have now put the proper photos in. What a palaver!
On the pier at Punta Allen
Alert: Yesterday capped it all. Went to a restaurant for a humble salad and went to turn my phone on and nada. Blank screen kaput. I’d noticed a small chip in the top corner but surely that couldn’t be it? I’ve seen people with completely smashed screens happily continuing to use them. WTF?! More bad luck? Alkida and I eyed each other, she knew something was up. She looked away hurriedly as dogs do when something is amiss. I am proud to say I, although ready to scream and cry, planned rather than leaving here and going straight to bloody Cancun, and just to put my SIM into my Mexican phone which rather ruined my off-gridplans (tell you later) I asked two very unhelpful people (Utopia comes with its selfish bastards too) then went to my room calmly ready to use iPad and see if I could change me SIMS. In the darkness of the room, I saw a faint background pic on it. Crouching in a dark corner I could just about make out settings and then screen brightness. Boom! All good and I became cautiously optimistic that I could hopefully continue here. Previously I would have wept like a baby but this time I handled it with steely determination. I’m very proud of myself that I’m developing into an even tougher old bird. I still have the photos problem so in this post you will see rather random references til I pull the rein in on these constant phone issues. Bear with me x
I love Punta Allen don’t get me wrong. I’m coming out of a very bad space that only solo travellers know about. I made the huge gamble of booking down here for a month and the very next day of having arrived major works are being done on the villages the main generator. Five fucking days. It’s meant that in my hotel the owner is only prepared to put on his generator from four till midnight. Nothing till four. I am an old bird who loves to rise early and do my writing then, while fresh. I am not a night owl. This has meant all my devices have depleted their batteries by around ten. I’ve made a deal with the restaurant oh so aptly named “Be Fucking Nice” and they have put on their generator which means I can charge AND write AND update work all the time. This new arrangement along with my paying some credit by card so I have money behind the bar. This means I won’t have a cash problem and if their WiFi isn’t working for their card machine they just can take money from what I have put in the kitty. The relief is massive. The whole reason I came here, was to write and edit photos for my blogs and a book I want to put together. The occasional party is great but it’s not my raison d’etre for this retreat. This kind of problem is normal, it happens in Tulum too to a lesser degree and it’s very frustrating.
Alert: So just over a year ago, I posted my sad last days in Punta Allen Mexico. A place entrenched deeply in my heart. I had collected a group of dogs and was getting more and more crazy old bitch, rather than an old bird. Never bored or homesick I felt deep contentment. I have been considering going back as it was the only place I was ever really happy since all the craziness began so please have a look at it and see what you reckon
From my Journal
Can’t believe it’s Wednesday, June 9, 2021, and Sunday I’m due to leave PA. One whole month! I’m panicking now about re-entering the real world. Seeing as the weather is getting progressively worse I will just gossip in my journal for you to get the mood of how things are so changeable down here. A little blow by blow of the intricate workings of Roseliz and Punta Allen.
My beach
This morning I went out and took a video of the village walking all around and over to the lagoon where I took that boat tour from, all those weeks ago. As you can see it’s glorious weather again. After I shot the video I had a really lovely breakfast in a small backstreet restaurant. They had put green peppers, ham, onion and cheese in and it came with the usual fajoles. This included coffee that they served with the actual jar of instant and a little jug of cream, a bargain at 90 pesos. It was a delightful little place with shell fly curtains and various bits of art and hammock chairs. It was great to have got off my lardy arse to experience the rest of the pueblo.
OR, AN ACCIDENT BEFORE LEAVING FOR PARADISE, JUST THE USUAL SHIT FROM A CRASHING AND BASHING OLD BIRD.
Well folks I’ve gone and done it again.
In my wild enthusiasm to have a fresh start and go on a health kick on Sunday, after having, let’s say, run riot with sangria popsicles I crashed and burned immediately upon awakening. I got up and went to throw last night’s soup down the loo preparing for a house clean before my trip to Punta Allen the following day. I sped back past my bed catching my toes on the bed leg that rather protrudes, and went crashing down really hard on my left wrist and then knees, elbows and hip, whilst, I might say holding the fucking soup pan aloft in my right hand. Now, this weird automatic reaction I have noted before, for some reason you protect what you’re holding at the great cost of bodily harm. I’ve done this many times in a fit of the clumsies.
Ow and ow.
Now you might be saying that it’s my fault, but I promise you that normally when I crash and burn it’s due to lack of concentration and not the demon drink. This is why I keep banging on to you old birds especially, to go slow and concentrate on missions whether they be climbing ruins or doing the fucking dishes at home. This more haste less speed Rebecca had a stupid household accident and an avoidable one. This was the same dumb stupidity when I broke my foot in Mexico (link) stumbling on the hotel bathroom step taking my dry clothes with speed to my suitcase. True the step was high but it was because I was planning other stuff in my head and my spatial awareness flew out the window as it does.
The mantra here in Punta Allen
As I sit here and write this from the paradise that is Punta Allen, looking gloomily at my fluorescent blue bandaged hand and wrist, I can recall it all in slow motion as you can in all those magnificent grand falls.
OR, the drama to movecommodities to the end of the world!
View from my room
Alert: Posted a year ago, my life got so fabulous when I joined the tiny community of Punta Allen. My month of living very simply on the beach with dogs and small dramas each day. The simple life is really the best life.
The Internet really playing up will add more pics later! One of the things that happen off-grid!
Love the name!
The bus ride back was fast, only the three hours, but I was glum. Although I knew it was just one week in Tulum I had finally found my groove in this small paradise. The journey itself was great because it leaves at eight in the morning, no hanging around and great light to take pictures. Upon reaching the hotel side of Tulum though, my depression deepened. Plastic loud tourists milling around and all the trappings that go with under a thin veil of being very ethnic.
Collectivo with bananas and food as cargo with the passengers.
As soon as I arrived in Tulum my ears were assaulted by noise. I was so used to crashing waves and wind that to hear all these fucking cars and lorries, loudspeakers of vendors of gas, and fruit and veg, and other shite that I freaked as I got off the collectivo. Also a new thing, police loudspeakers about covid and masks. This just felt hostile and I felt really low.
For all the inconveniences of living on the edge of society, it’s a whole world of difference if you’ve been used to being a lone wolf for a while. I sit here back in Punta Allen another time and although there’s no bloody WiFi at the moment because it’s ‘windy’ I still am blessed to be here and just writing this up in ‘word’ to copy to blog later.
OR , DON’T BE SHY, JUST JUMP IN TO MAGIC ICY POOLS
Fabulous water and entrance to the underworld under the lip of the pond are the caves
FROM LAST YEAR, A LESSON IN SHAKING OFF THE BLUES
Although I lost my mojo for a few days, I gave myself a sharp talking to. I was beginning to get depressed. I think it was after being chased by the troupe of dogs in this neighbourhood which has now made me walk the long way round to my local shop. Add to that a lot of drunks and crack heads suddenly started to congregate around my street. This meant I couldn’t really go out after six unless I asked Charlie for a lift. I hate being beholden to people so this was getting me down. However all is well again with a few tweaks, I’m nothing if not adaptable.
Alert: This is last years offering which I’m adding to. I’ve rejoined the British Museum so I’m back in the members’ room to write and edit photos. So happy to be back in my second home which is more condusive to work-like endeavours. They also have an eclectic library so I’ve just managed to cross reference information on the Zapotec, Mixtec and Mayan with some art photos which are lovely because old and I don’t recognise them so probably they are hidden away in some basement these days. Enjoy
British Museum members room
JULY 2021 OAXACA MEXICO.
OR, A MOUNTAINTOP ZAPOTEC CITY LINKED CLOSELY TO Teotihuacán and mitla
It’s huge, it’s Zapotec and it’s completely different to what I expected. I hadn’t researched at all so it was a huge learning curve from my usual Mayan sites.
A LITTLE HISTORY OF THE ZAPOTEC AND MIXTEC.
In parallel with the rise of Teotihuacan, Zapotec civilisation encompassed much of the southern highlands. In the course of the first millennium BC, early chiefdoms of the Oaxaca Valley coalesced into a militaristic Zapotec state centred on the commanding hill-top capital Monte Albán. Zapotec scribes invented one of the four independent Mesoamerican writing systems (the others being Maya, Mixtec and Aztec) and refined their own variant of the 260-day ritual calendar which was in widespread use throughout Mesoamerica.
From about AD 1200, Mixtec peoples began to assume control of key Zapotec sites through conquest and political alliances. Knowledge of metallurgy, which had been introduced a few centuries earlier from South and Central America, was employed in the production of copper and gold objects to reflect rank and status. During the fifteenth century AD, the Mixtec resisted the Aztec imperial advance, but the consummate stoneworking and metalworking skills of many Mixtec artisans were redeployed to serve the Aztec kings.
The Zapotecs were a sedentary culture living in villages and towns, in houses constructed with stone and mortar. They recorded the principal events in their history by means of hieroglyphics, and in warfare they made use of cotton armour. The well-known ruins of Mitla have been attributed to them.
(I will write another post about the fabulous jade and gold discoveries, that are housed in Oaxaca Palace Museum. This is closed at the moment but I’ll be able to dig up some photos from before. I really need to write a bit more about the amazing Zapotecs)
Castrated man?
CLOSED PLACES AND CHANGED PLANS
I had got up ready to go to the archaeological museum but it has been closed. No signs on the door except the opening hours, and through the peephole a man informed me that they didn’t know when they’d open again to which I replied rather hotly I must confess well put a sign on the door then and change the bloody Google details. He said that’s a good idea I’ll put a sign on the door as if he’d just thought of it. Yes, some people have travelled thousands of miles to see these artefacts I whined. His beady eyes perused me as if I was mad. And sort it out on Google and your site this is the second time I’ve come here. He was making me cross and I felt as if he might just let me in if I kept banging on about it.
Top Tip: With the distraction of what was open or not, and jumping on buses every five minutes as places decided to close some, or all of their historical sites and museums, or basically anything of any interest whatsoever, I learned some bitter lessons. When in times of crisis don’t trust any info gleaned by Google et al. You need to speak to proper locals or call tour guides of the area that you are planning to go to. Nobody bothered to change their details online while I was there so I was disappointed many times. So due diligence is essential, don’t just assume they will tell you any changes especially in casual places like Mexico. Make the calls before you get on that bus, or drag over to the other side of town for that special gallery because they will close when they feel like it!
Alert: Here I am still looking back at a year ago this week, so don’t you think I snuck off again! I am simply trying to get my mojo back after being back here and not travelling since my hideous experience with Heathrow’s ‘quarantine’ hotel hell on my tortuous return from Mexico last September.
ONE YEAR AGO….
OR BLOODY XEL-HA IS STILL NOT OPEN AND APPARENTLY HASN’T BEEN FOR NEARLY A YEAR.
Alert: This is from my post from just one year ago. It’s a reminder that us old birds should be getting out into the world again and Mexico is still a great option.
If you start a little planning now, late March and early April. Just check on the bloody restrictions (which are dropping like flies thank god) and get out there. Don’t be shy you’ll love it whether it be near to home or further afield. Just go before it all gets too pricey as Easter is coming and you need to get out before it gets busy and irritating.
Good Friday falls on April 15th this year so get your skates on, school hols are from April 4th through until 18th so you need to get out now! It’s sneaked up so be quick!
one year ago…..
I now have rented an apartment and am cooking at home mostly. To have my little pad is very reassuring and makes me feel more permanent in Tulum. I will use it as a base because I still intend to bus it to many sites further afield. Palenque, Xel-Ha, Zone Muyil, Kabah, Uxmal and Chicanna to name a few. It might seem foolhardy to rent a flat but having a base means that journeys are easier with less luggage and you can return to a home when you’re done with your visit. It’s a security blanket and you can save money cooking at home.
OR, HISTORY REWRITTEN. Below are six new documentaries that I’ve found which are adding nails into the coffin of how old civilization actually is, and from whence we actually did come. They come from very […]
OR RIBS ARE NEARLY BETTER AND PREPARING SOME ART WHILE DETOXING.
Alert: Links are where the words are underlined in yellow, just click and you’ll get there!
Writing my journal while gazing over the Gobi Desert speeding by
Tough times last year trying to get out of the UK then trying to get back in, (why I came back I’ll never know, what was the matter with me?)and under terrible vicious conditions manufactured by Doris in his eternal house of horrors. Then after leaving Mexico last year being incarcerated in a ‘Quarantine Hotel’ and nearly having a nervous breakdown. Then our beloved dog Brutus got sick (while I was still imprisoned) and later died despite all our valiant efforts. Amongst the demonstrations against tyranny and usual trials and tribulations about resettling in the UK, (I always get ants in my pants after just a couple of months even in normal times) and general stress (bailiffs and all sorts of shite for nothing) and being homesick for Mexico, it seemed that I was in a dark place. So I started to look at property in Bulgaria to live a simple life off-grid growing my own veg and mushroom hunting while creating a studio to carve sculpture when another disaster befell me, in that suddenly Bulgaria became fascist too. This harsh body blow was followed by my having actual body blows when I dislocated my knee then a couple of weeks later cracked and broke ribs in a series of ludicrous strokes of bad luck. A lot of pain from both and as usual I didn’t do anything except home treatment and physio.
SLIDE SHOW OF OUR LOVELY BRUTUS R.I.P. AND THE ESCAPE IN MEXICO LAST YEAR.
Yeah, bummer finale to 21. A shit sandwich of vast proportions.
OR HAPPY LIFE AND HUGE IGUANAS AMONGST THE RUINS. This is a random start of the pyramid and the archaeological sites I visited. Some were in 2019 and the rest this year. I have put […]
OR, LOVE IN THE TIME OF BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS (AND DODGY 70’S KODACHROME) This is dedicated to my sis Lizliz who was the middle one of us three siblings. I wanted to write a […]
OR, HOW MUCH MORE IS UNDER THE GROUND TO BE DISCOVERED IN TURKIYE?
Huge panorama of yet uncovered wonders
START OF THE ROAD TRIP.
A road trip was in order. I’d had crushing news about another setback on the house front and then the internet went down for two days, not just at my lovely fish restaurant but all over the area. I’d tried going to my pals at the top of the mountain but although my phone worked my laptop didn’t! My frustration and malaise meant that I was openly crying by the evening with all my “family” uneasily clucking around making me feel a bit better but worse at the same time. This wouldn’t do at all. It was time for a change. It was time for a road trip.
After another ponder in my garden knowing a road trip was called for.
That night I hastily packed my small rucksack and told them I was shooting off in the morning for three days. By eight o’clock the next morning I was walking away down the hill the two km to the main road to hail a minibus. I was on the move heading to Selcuk and the information I needed to take the connections to hit Miletus and maybe even on to the lake and the ancient Herakleia. I would see, I already had my travel head on.
My old mate from the village who was at the bus stop in the morning
The walk was very pleasant and soothed my injured soul and the minibus wait was painless at that time in the morning. My old neighbour was already at the stop on the opposite side of the road going off to Tire and I pondered if she’d walked down from the village making it a fair old trot for an old, if not ancient old bird. Her minibus shouted over to me that mine would arrive in five minutes. That’s how caring the system is here, I love their system in Turkiye.
Old Bird Travels Solo! 