An early morning rise, repeated several times this past month, saw us standing outside the local Starbucks as it opened its doors. There’s something weird about an empty Starbucks, even more so these days as they provide table service. Serving coffee in cups and breakfast sandwiches on plates. We had returned to Colorado with a firm agenda to be followed. Our grandson Evan was scheduled for an operation, our storage area had to be emptied and yes, we had to get new plates for our latest vehicle purchased back at the end of June – the Beast, otherwise known as the Land Rover Defender 110 V8. Sipping that first cup of coffee, constantly checking my watch, awaiting a call from the folks at 1-800-GOT-JUNK to turn up for that final clean-out of the remaining goods and chattels we felt were way past their use-by-date, no longer holding any emotional attachment. Yes, gone is my thirty-year plus collection of Road and Track magazines with almost 400 issues filling numerous cartons I co...
Visiting the charming coastal Dublin suburb of Howth There was a time, not too long ago, when the romance of travel still felt real. The lead up to the actual day of travel in the knowledge that the world was about to reveal itself in ways unimaginable, as flight attendants poured a welcoming glass of champaign. There were visas, traveler’s checks, hotel bookings – it was all quite thrilling. Well up to a point I have to admit. However, not so much these days. Indeed, there are times when regrets are involved in lieu of days you would consider the material that fills the pages of travel books. For nearly a month, from the last day of May through to the end of June, Margo and I squeezed in visits to Dublin, Ireland, London, Paris with a side of Bordeaux. We managed to fly, uber, train and sail and through it all there were numerous anxious moments involving a shrinking selection of clean clothes as well as a declining interest in the local cuisine. The journey Back when it was exc...