When the smell of the pine trees hits your nostrils, when the song of the cicadas hits your ears, and when the deep sapphire blue hits your eyes, then you will understand the origins of Greek philosophy, then you will understand Marc Anthony’s and Cleopatra’s passion, then you will understand Homer’s travels, Cavafy’s poetry, and then, and only then will you understand the Mediterranean.
I am blessed to spend a few days in Mallorca every Summer with my mom, my nephew, and my nieces. We have been coming for about 40 years to the same cala -a small bay. I have talked about the special light on the island, and all the other characteristics of the Mediterranean basin, it is wonderful.
One of the highlights of my stay in Mallorca is when I run up to an old Arab signal tower. It is a wonderful -but usually hot- run by the cutest little cala (Cala Fornells), and up a pine forest to reach the tower before heading back down.
My brief stay on the island is a cleanse, a detox from the crazy world we live in. I am privileged to enjoy the sea and the pine forests; this year was no different.
New museums are rare, most of the stuff worth seeing is already being shown. Another key issue is that for most modern museums the building is more interesting than what is inside -think of Guggenheim Bilbao, or even NY- It is rare to find a new museum where both the container and what it contains are both at the same level of excellence. One such exception is the massive collection of “stuff” the Spanish Royal family has -which technically belongs to all Spaniards, as it is part of the national heritage which is being shown in the brand new Colecciones Reales Museum in Madrid.
This museum has been pending since 1934 with the advent of the Second Republic, but it was finally constructed right above the Royal Palace gardens and next to the Cathedral. It opened in June of 2023. Celia and I finally got a chance to go, and it was free since the museum was celebrating the 10th anniversary of the crowning of King Felipe VI. I liked it so much, I returned the next day with my niece!
The museum is massive all in concrete and granite with some wooden accents, it is really cool. The collection has artifacts from the Trastámara dynasty, the Hapsburgs, and the Bourbons. The collection includes carriages and cars, a ton of tapestries, a fountain! some religious items, books, a set of Solomonic columns, dinning sets, and obviously a ton of paintings, including a huge Velazquez horse, and oh, a Caravaggio!
The museum includes the de rigueur coffee shop and gift shop, and it is worth the visit, even if it is not free when you go.
Although I went to a business school for university, I took all the literature and history courses I could take. That should have been a big flag, as usual, I missed it.
One such class was a Victorian literature course which changed my perspective on life. I was introduced to Alfred Lord Tennyson (you can read about that here), the whole pantheon of Victorian writers and poets and of course Oscar Wilde, precisely The Importance of Being Earnest, a Trivial Comedy for Serious People, and specifically Lady Bracknell’s hilarious interrogation of John Worthing (Ernest). That reading was around 40 years ago. After reading and rereading the play, reciting that same exchange in different venues, I finally got to see a theatre production -albeit in Spanish.
Celia and I went to the Teatro Pavon in the trendy Latina district to see the play. Besides the translation, it was modified as a bit of a musical with about half a dozen songs thrown in. I guess the director felt the need to make the play a bit more “fun” than it already is…
At any rate, the play was hilarious, well performed, even with the musical numbers and we really enjoyed it. After the play we enjoyed an apperitif at trendy Plaza de Cascorro and then had oxtail for dinner at Madrid’s oldest tavern, Antonio Sanchez!
If you have not read this play or seen it in the theatre or in various film versions, do it. You are welcome.
“I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone.”― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest
Stop. Breathe. Breathe again. In that time, did you miss anything? A multimillion-dollar deal? A major life event? So what is the rush? What is the constant need to be doing something? It is going to be ok, even if you stop to breathe for a few minutes.
Of course, if you want to take that to a really healing level, you should take a few days off for a silence retreat, a technology detox, a news cleanse, a silent retreat, call it what you will. For the last five or so years, I have had the privilege of taking a few days off and heading North, over the Guadarrama mountains to the Monasterio de El Paular.
Although the Benedictine monks ask you to pray with them at least three of their five prayers, I always enjoy going to all five, including the 6:30am Maitines. There is a great beauty in reciting the Psalms and praying together in a slow, contemplative rhythm.
When you are not praying you are free to go hiking in the mountains. This year I went up to the Reventón for the first time to check out El carro del diablo, a huge rock with a legend about the cathedral of Segovia and, you guessed it, the devil. I also went up to the Puente de la Angostura bridge which I had not visited in years.
A particularly healing aspect is when the monks ask you to work with them. This time we had to sweep the farmhouse porch for the upcoming fiesta of St. John’s dinner. Brother Enrique and I spent the morning cleaning and fixing up area for the party.
The rest of the time you are meditating, reading, writing, enjoying the Vicente Carducho paintings in the cloister, praying. It is an amazing experience. You should try it. Here is the link for the monastery or find one near you!
Few things are as rewarding as walking around the concrete jungle that is a city, and finding an oasis, a quiet corner, a patch of grass, trees. Madrid, as beautiful as it is, is still a concrete jungle, and the other day I discovered the Fundación Ortega-Marañón, one such oasis, literally around the corner from my mom’s house in the Chamberí neighborhood.
José Ortega y Gasset is considered Spain’s top 20th C philosopher and Gregorio Marañón was a humanist doctor. Their respective nonprofits joined forces and merged in 2010. They are housed in an old palazzo with a beautiful garden and in what used to be the Residencia de Señoritas, a women’s college dorm which sits right behind the palazzo. They have done a beautiful job with the construction, preserving both the palazzo and the dorm.
Yo soy yo y mi circunstancia, y si no la salvo a ella no me salvo yo.
José Ortega y Gasset
During my visit, there was a great exhibition on the Revista de Occidente, Gasset’s literary magazine. With the title Claridad, claridad, it explained the trajectory and writers that participated in the magazine. It was very well done, and I was all alone. After my visit I was able to sit in the garden and read my book, what an oasis in the city.
Eric Giroux has done it again. Sophomore novels are tricky; some are just a copy of the first, some are rushed, and most are just not particularly good, but Giroux has been faithful to what worked in Ring on Deli and taken his work to a great new level of zaniness!
Zodiac Pets is a paradox, a hilarious, laugh out loud dystopian story set where the Boston suburbs bleed into rural New England. Parts Nancy Drew, parts George Orwell, Giroux masterfully blends the two, sometimes with dry humor, sometimes with brief notes on history, sometimes with jolting juxtapositions like Aristotle’s’ Academy and Cher sharing a page.
Gone is the teenage existential angst of Deli, replaced by a fresh take on a postmodern novel that would make Cervantes proud. Zodiac Pets, weaves a rich and inviting narrative from different points of the narrator’s life -sometimes addressing the reader directly! The political commentary has intensified, Giroux has grasped the zeitgeist of our time, and while still using local politics as a platform, the aim is national.
Zodiac Pets is a coming-of-age story disguised as an observation of modern politics in the US. Or is it the other way around? At any rate, the sides, the interwoven stories, the parenthesis are all just as good as the main thread, they are part of the structure of the story, adding texture, depth, and warmth. If you are looking for a Summer read, look no further.
Is there a right or wrong way to do the Camino? Spoiler alert: no, everyone does their thing. There is a lot of talk about this, and social media really likes to push extremes. If you go to the Camino pages on any platform, you will see what I am talking about. Pilgrims who walk from St. Jean or further beyond think they are better than folks who start in Sarria, stay in luxury hotels, eat gourmet meals, and have a luggage delivery service. This is obviously not true, but having said that, there is a difference between a pilgrim and a tourist, and that is ok.
Like everything else in life, you are going to get out of the Camino as much as you put into it.
It boils down to how willing you are to have your life changed; how open you are to being changed, and how much you are willing to do to have that experience. I remember the first time I stepped into an albergue and realized I had to share room -and bathroom- with complete strangers, something I had not done since college, a few decades before. That was a first eye opening and humanizing experience, never mind walking for over thirty days with a pack on my back.
The problem arrives when you are on a pilgrimage trail, but you have chosen not to be a pilgrim, or you are not willing to put in the effort to be a pilgrim, or you do not know the difference (I once saw a young lady walking in her bikini carrying only a water bottle, good for her!). There is no such thing as a perfect pilgrim, maybe if the only thing you are carrying is a chunk of old bread and a Bible, according to The Way of a Pilgrim, a 19th-century Russian mystical text (reference Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation: The Way of a Pilgrim).
Before you start the Camino, ask yourself what your purpose is in walking to Santiago. Do you just want to check off this item on your bucket list, but have no desire for a spiritual journey? That is fine but be aware that you will walk with people who might have a deep spiritual purpose on the Camino. Likewise, pilgrims need to be aware that not everybody on the Camino is there on an inner journey but might just be there for the fun experience, the food, and the thread count on their bedsheets.
The whole purpose of a pilgrimage is letting go of the ego, a lot of that happens through letting go of other stuff… all your clothes -you only need a few, your privacy, a nice bed. It is easy for your ego to think that you are the best pilgrim, or that the only good pilgrims are the ones who stay in your Albergue. For more on this read about the Cosmic Egg here.
At the end of the day, it is all about tolerance. Yes, there is a difference between a pilgrim and a tourist, it is a mindset and attitude issue, but that is all right, we can all share the path.
Here is an interesting chart I found on Researchgate: Tourism – pilgrimage continuum based on spirituality and authenticity by Ivo Jirásek
Saint Augustine, Florida, 1565, and it is definitely worth the visit. Paradoxically, it is not even in the top 10 most visited places in Florida. Miami is first because of all the tourists that go on cruises from there and Spring Break students. Orlando is second because of a certain mouse (and other attractions). Fort Lauderdale because of more cruises and Spring Break university students… and so on. Apparently, people do not go to Florida to learn about history. But I finally managed an excursion, and I loved it.
After a boring 4-hour drive -Florida has no elevation and most roads are as close to straight as you could imagine. I arrived in North Florida, which has different vegetation and feel from Southern Florida, and its endless suburban sprawl.
I stayed at the 1001 Nights, a Victorian Bed and Breakfast downtown. This old Luddite was a bit troubled that I never spoke to a person when I made my reservation, and when I got there, I had a code for the front door and one for my room door, so I did not see anyone until breakfast the next morning. But the place was really cute, and my room was great! Highly recommended, with a great breakfast included!
After dumping my bag, I did one of my favorite things in the world: I went exploring.
First, the Castillo de San Marcos, later called Fort Marion by the Americans. Obviously as defensive technology improved, so did this castle, so what we see today is the 18th C. Spanish construction, which resembles other Spanish castles like the one in Jaca, the one in Pamplona and San Felipe del Morro in San Juan, Puerto Rico. This whole castle is built of coquina stone -literally seashells crushed and pressed into stone through millennia!
Then I walked to Nuestra Señora de la Leche, the oldest church in the US and the site of the first mass on US soil. The original chapel is not there anymore, but the whole site is a wonderful garden with a supernatural spiritual feel to it, a lovely old Chapel and a mundane modern one.
The old village with all the old Spanish houses has fallen victim to that most vulgar American capitalist disease: tourism i.e.: gaudy shops, bad and overpriced restaurants, $7 ice cream cones, etc. Surprisingly, the narrow streets try hard to maintain their historic dignity despite this transgression. Certain corners fight unbreeched: the Plaza de la Constitución holds its ground, celebrating “La Pepa” Spain’s first Constitution signed in Cadiz in 1812 after kicking out Napoleon. It is a charming square. Right on that square is the Cathedral, where I went to the ordination of two of my students, it has a lovely wooden ceiling!
Yes, there are museums, beaches, breweries, and many other attractions, making St. Augustine a perfect weekend getaway destination. If you like history and don’t mind paying $7 for an ice cream.
Recommendations:
Avoiding tourist traps, I had dinner at Ann O’Malley’s, an old Irish pub just outside St. George Street, the main strip. The sandwich was outstanding, the beer perfect, the staff friendly and professional.
I also had coffee next to the Cathedral at The Kookaburra Downtown, fantastic!
With money to spend and absolutely no culture to be had (other than Tampa/St. Pete -like the Dali Museum to the North or Miami, the Perez Museum has an important 20th and 21st C art collection to the East), the rich folks of Naples decided to buy culture. Naples, a retirement village for wealthy Midwesterners bought a phenomenal Symphony, and they built Artis Naples as a space to hold the Philharmonic and The Baker Art Museum,
There are many mentions here on the importance of friendship and mentoring, so I will not write about going to Naples (Florida) to visit my old colleague, boss, and friend Edu, and my old student Lukas. But I have never dedicated a post to the Baker Museum in Naples. Voilà:
I recently crossed Florida on the ecological disaster that is Alligator Alley -the highway connecting East and West Florida while cutting the flow of water that is the “River of Grass” that is the Everglades (read about that here).
With a bit of time before meeting Edu, I went back to the Baker Museum, the small but exquisite art museum in Naples.
When I visited there was a great exhibition on Andy Warhol -which is not hard since most of his work were silkscreens which were produced in considerable numbers. Another great exhibit was on the composer George Gershwin and his relationship with artists in other media, mostly photographers and the visual arts including Modigliani. There was a small exhibition on Magritte and his surrealism, and finally, there was art from all the local schools. This last exhibition, on the top floor of the museum was packed with all the children/artists and their parents.
It was great to return to this museum and to get my fix of beauty and art. If you are in Southwest Florida and you have a bit of time to kill, visit the Baker Museum.
The previous post was a generic “get out and travel” post, a motivational (hopefully) message, a reminder of the beauty of travel, of meeting new people, of seeing new things. What I did not talk about was the adventure of travel and the stress and adrenaline involved.
As has been previously reported, I recently presented at a conference in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. To get there, I had to fight with the metaphorical Cyclops, lotus-eaters, and Sea Nymphs…
On paper the trip was easy: West Palm Beach, which has a cute little airport to Charlotte North Carolina – a behemoth airport, the 10th in the nation with 23.1 million passengers per year. From there to Raleigh Durham, another cute provincial airport, from there a taxi/uber to Chapel Hill.
Unfortunately, the equipment (the airplane for you Philistines) in Palm Beach was broken and we spent more than two hours on the ground getting it fixed. People left the plane to make other plans, but I had no options. There were no more flights to Charlotte and no other flights to Raleigh, I had to take my chances… We arrived at midnight at Charlotte, and I sprinted to the car rental area to try to get a car. Some booths were closing, others had long lines, most had no cars available. In all of Charlotte airport there was one, one car available, it was with Avis, it was electric, and it would cost me $270. But there was nothing else I could do. If I stayed in Charlotte to wait for the next day’s flight, I would miss the conference and an appointment at 9:00 the next morning. I had to take the car. I took the car.
I have never really driven an electric car (yes, ok little electric rentals in Madrid, but that does not really count). I buckled into the Hyundai IONIQ 5 SEL, a $50K rig. In theory it had over 200 miles autonomy for a 144-mile drive, plenty. The theory bit is that the autonomy calculation is at the speed limit, hahaha. Ooops. Not that I drove autobahn style, but it was late, I wanted to get some sleep, and I am a Mediterranean driver anyways, so I might have driven a midge over the limit. Watching the battery level and the mileage left was a hairy experience. The battery clicked to red, 9% as I pulled into the hotel parking lot -I was not going to hunt for free street parking at 2:30 in the morning.
Epilogue:
The next morning (after my breakfast meeting with the great Professor (retired) Frank Dominguez) I found a free charging spot at the chamber of commerce. Fortunately, a Tesla owner arrived at the charging post next to mine and explained that I should leave the car there and go live my life while it charged -Hmm, not your usual gas station experience. So I left the car there and headed to the conference. By late morning, the battery was up to 30%, enough to drive to the airport, return the damn car, and take an uber back to the conference…
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