Even if I don’t see it again — nor ever feel it

I know it is — and that if once it hailed me

it ever does —

And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction

not as towards a place, but it was a tilting

within myself,

as one turns a mirror to flash the light to where

it isn’t — I was blinded like that — and swam

in what shone at me

only able to endure it by being no one and so

specifically myself I thought I’d die

from being loved like that.

From Marie Howe

Marie Howe is the State Poet of New York. She teaches writing at Sarah Lawrence College.

On cloudy, rainless day...walking the Oregon beach with friends and their delighted dogs. Surf breaks about two hundred yards offshore (it's low tide at the moment) with wave crests of ten to fifteen in height...relatively calm after an earlier storm.

Looking southwest at surf breaks

Looking north to the Hecta and Yachts highlands

Looking due west; next stop would be Sapporo, Japan, approximately 4,445 miles with absolutely nothing in-between the two cities except the Pacific Ocean.

Reposting some of my favorite poems. 

**************************************

This journey has taken its toll
     My body, older, less agile
          Struggles as it faces
The cold, the rain, and...
                                       uncertainty.

Yet, my heart knows where I must be.

As I shed these ill-considered
    Personal choices, commitments,
          And, yes, relationships

I find myself inner resolve, focused
    On what I know
          Is best for me.

What I seek has been inside of me
    All along, ...and, now,

It will be fulfilled, and
   I'll be transformed into who
        and where I'm meant to be.

********************************************************

I have been in love in numberless forms, numberless times.
     In life after life, in age after age, forever.

My spellbound heart has made and remade itself.

I take you a gift, which you wear in your many forms,
     In life after life, in age after age, forever.

****************************************************

The melody will not be denied,

     Gleaned from dreams,

          Crafted with skill and grace.

The tune reveals itself in black on white,

     Echoing into ivory,

          While a full moon prowls rakish clouds. 

The stillness outside belies the churn within,

     The refrain encases the song,

          As darkness unlocks perfect symphonies.

***************************************************

A red brick chimney

     protrubes from a gray roof.


Like a periscope;

     these homes are all submarines,

          on these urban ocean floors.


Maybe we are deep sea divers,

     with trees of waving kelp.


As we walk these trenchs

     serving as our streets.


With each step we swim,

     breathing water.


And somewhere far above

     is real air, with a bright sky and sun.


We could see so clearly,

     and look down

          at the murky depths we left behind.




***********************************************

Thalassophile: a person who loves the seas, ocean and water. So...yes, that is who I am. Who would have imagined, growing up in landlocked Kansas, with very little water around. I plan on adding more photos from other locations outside the U.S.  Until then...

I've been gone a while…

And I hope you understand,

That I must do what I must do

To become a better man.

If I was to just to act a fool, and

Do nothing with myself

Then all my blessings would be cursed.

It's a joy when I sit down, and

Remember the good times that we had.

Well I hope you'll find it in your heart,

And know these words are true.

And please don't fuss —

Because I must go do what I must do.

Even though the road is rocky,

I'll be home with you again.

I just had to bare my cross.

Now I'm free: in time,

Space, and a different place.

How perfect we might be.

I would be the blowing wind,

You'd be that willow tree.

And I could never bear the thought of you not by my side.

So I would be the warmth of day,

You'd be the cool of night.

And everyday I pray you will see I must fulfill my destiny.

I hope you'll find it in your heart,

And know these words are true.

God knows,

Life is one big road.

With a lot of turns and twists, 

And curves.

But hold on, every single road I roll on,

Comes to an end and I’ll be back home again.

So baby please don't cry. 

There's no valley too low and there's no mountain too high.

Our love don't die with the passage of time.

It just grows and just keeps strong.

And even though I'm gone, I am never too far.

You're the light through the dark, shining right through my heart.

So my journey must start!

Six years ago, I sailed the British Virgin Islands, from Tortola to Virgin Gorda and back. Fourteen days of sublime sailing, with numerous stops along the way. No single leg was more than five hours of sailing time. Perfect breezes up and downwind. delightful restaurants, bars, yacht clubs and just plain fun!  This was the start of the regatta season with J-Boats, super-yachts, and plenty of standard sailing vessels from all over the world. What a wonderful community of like-minded individuals. Small and large sailboat owners -- all are welcomed. Here are a few photos from that trip:

Typical Belizean Forest Home

Seaside Cottage, Corazol Town, Belize

Belize, compared to Cuba, is as laidback as you can ever want. Both coastal and inland cities and towns move on a slow cruise control way of life. No hustle or bustle; "everything will be done when it needs to be done."

Rental cars are easily available; taxis run nearly 24/7. The Belizean dollar is tied to the U.S. dollar: $2 BZ for one $1 US. Resorts can be expensive, however, there are many small hotels or pensions that charge as little as $21 per night for a room with a bath and a modest view. Restaurants abound with a heavy emphasis on seafood. Belize is well known for its beaches and cays with spectacular sailing, scuba diving and snorkeling. Less well known are the highlands and jungle areas which teem with wildlife -- birds, howling monkeys, panthers and the ever present crocodile. 

Land prices vary considerably. Towns such as Placentia, Belize City and others are rapidly growing and prices are escalating. Farther away from the beaches, prices are more reasonable, for example, $10,000 US for 2-3 acres which has already been cleared. Hiring local labor is relatively easy. Many farmers opt for small jobs, i.e., land clearing, fence building, road grading, etc. for a reasonable daily wage. Building permits, septic tank reviews and real estate transactions obviously require a local bank account and the usual paperwork. 

Farmer's markets abound, and fresh produce and fruit are abundant. Growing your own vegetables and fruits are relatively easy, also. Belize derives its water from the mountains of Guatemala. The tropical hurricanes that begin in the eastern Pacific strike Guatemala and Mexico, and the water floods eastward through Belize to Caribbean. Rain collection systems are very popular, and easy to build. 

At the northern end of Belize, sits a growing community called Corazol Town, just across the border from Chetumal, QR, Mexico.  Chetumal is the state capital of Quintana Roo, and is a bustling, modern city. Housing there is a bit more expensive than Corazol Town, however, crossing back and forth on the border provides no difficulty.

I'll be visiting both locations to view possible retirement locations: either land or some pre-built accommodation to escape the cold and damp of winter.  More later.  Here are some links on both places:

https://www.belize.com/corozal 

https://www.belize.com/chetumal

New updates as my travels took me far and wide. Recently, I visited Mexico, Cuba and Belize. Photos below of my journeys there; now, my explorations take me to property in Chetumal, QR, MX, or, across the border in Corazol Town, BZ. Adjacent to the sea, both offer all the basic amenities I need. And, the daily costs substantially lower than the U.S. Healthcare provided by US trained doctors, nurses and dentists at one tenth the cost.  And, in a few weeks, my continued journeys in Chetumal / Corazol Town continue.

Beautiful Cathedral above my hotel 

Sunset at the Chateau Miramar on the Caribbean Sea 

Miramar Cathedral and former Convent, Still Open and Starkly Beautiful 

 Balcony View of Coast, Chateau Miramar on the far left

Plaza de La Cathedra

National Capitol Building 

Bacardi Building - an Art Deco Delight 

 Florditia Restaurant and Bar - a Hemingway Favorite

St Francis de Asisi Cathedral and Plaza 

Hemingway Home, Now a Museum 

Onions and Garlic - Vinellas Valley 

La Bodeguita del Medio

Enrst Hemingway's Famous Bar - Great Mojitos!

Museum of Fine Arts 

Plaza Vieja

Taquechel Pharmacy Museum

 Black Orchid Resort, on Belize River

 Howling Monkeys Outside my Bedroom

 Black Iguana Along the Riverside

Belize River Teeming with Fish and Small Crocodiles -- No Swimming!

Lessons learned from traveling to, within and from Cuba. Despite more open borders, travel by U.S. citizens requires careful planning, advanced reservations, and a clear sense of how you'll travel throughout the country.  First, U.S. based credit cards are not accepted by anyone once you've entered the country. Only cash or a non-U.S. credit card are acceptable. Change your U.S. dollars to Mexican pesos; I did that as I passed through Cancun to La Habana. Once in Cuba, go to a bank, and convert Mexican pesos to Cuban tourist pesos, called CUC (pronounced "cuke"). Standard Cuban pesos, used by the local citizenry, cannot be used by tourists. The exchange rate of U.S. dollars to Cuban CUCs is very unfavorable. Converting to Mexican pesos eases this pain.

A typical fifteen minute taxi ride from the outskirts of La Habana to Old Town, about ten miles, will cost 15 Cuban CUCs with a 1-2 CUC tip. Standard fare for lunch or dinner, including drinks, will cost 25 CUCs per person. Major museums charge 10 CUCs; smaller ones look for a 1-2 CUC donation. 

Downtown, or Old Town, La Habana continues to improve. Plazas are being restored, storefronts are opening, restaurants and bars abound, and grifters and beggars also exist. Toilets come with attendants who expect a tip for toilet paper (bring your own). However, the back alleys of Old Town still teem with the old ways -- children playing in the streets, families hawking all kinds of trinkets, dogs asleep in the gutter, endless stream of bicycles, motorbikes and automobiles. 

Due to the humid climate, and particularly along the coast, there is the constant presence of mold. Not all molds are bad, however, if your sensitivity to mold allergens is high, beware of its presence. Hotels, public spaces and restaurants make every effort to eliminate the mold. Backstreet cafes and bars are less prone to do so.

Unleaded gas may exist, however, the pollution from automobiles can be overwhelming. No catalytic converters or other smog control devices exist. Just big clouds and plumes of exhaust at every intersection. Obviously dine at restaurants and bars away from main avenues and intersections. 

People are generally friendly; some speak English, most do not.  Rudimentary Spanish will get you around town fairly easily. Buses are very crowded, and do not adhere to schedules. To visit out of the way places, for example, Ernest Hemingway's beautiful home, took forty-five minutes. The taxi driver waited for us while we roamed the grounds, museum and gift shop; then took us back to the hotel: total cost of 60 CUCs for two of us.

When you travel away from La Habana, the real poverty becomes apparent. By law, each farmer is granted ten hectares of land on which to farm and raise animals.  However, very little of the land is arable, and water is scarce. Cuba has put in over two hundred dams to create a vast network of lakes. However, water is a very precious commodity. On the bus trip to the Vinellas Valley, we saw acres and acres of sugar cane and tobacco. Occasionally, we saw small family gardens, but that was a rarity. Life is simple and harsh in Cuba, yet, the people are generally happy. Music is everywhere; it is their antidote to the starkness of their reality.

There are no magazines or newspapers as you would find in any metropolitan center throughout the world. There is a national newspaper, in English and Spanish. Television covers politics and world events, however, shaded through a communist / socialist lens.  Lots of coverage of Venezuelan, Nicaraguan, Vietnam, Chinese and Russian political activities. Endless music videos blasting our "bubble gum" music. And, of course, sports including soccer (or futbol), cricket, baseball (Cuba's version of the amateur World Series was being played during my visit) and rugby.  No US or European TV channels were broadcast.  And, of course, everywhere there were posters and painted slogans promoting or remembering Fidel Castro, Che Guevara and the 1959 Revolution.