November 7, 2025- I went to a quiet place, this morning, instead of dropping in at the crowded, delightful and noisy jam fest that takes place each Friday morning.. As time moves on, I am finding that where I go, on a given day, matters little to anyone outside a small group. That’s probably how it’s always been, as in the verse of an old song, “Most folks just go their way, don’t pay me any mind.”
Sitting in Century Lounge, I drew cursory attention from a couple of small children. I smiled at each and went back to my writing, which was the main reason I wanted relative quiet this morning. The rest of the patrons were busily involved with business, politics or affairs of the heart.
As the day progressed, there were signs that the situation on the national level might be resolved, sort of, sometime next week. For now, though, the transportation piece of that situation leaves me little choice but to drive out and back, over Thanksgiving. I generally think that the right thing will happen. It just takes time to sort out all the egoism and perceived “need” that emanates from the human psyche.
Tonight, I spent some time on a Zoom call, from which I have been absent for several weeks. My presence was briefly acknowledged, then the regulars went about their business and I stayed on as an observer. It was a nice hour, though, as three wonderful children came on as participants, getting the support they deserved from the regulars.
Things that matter most in life are what usually end up transpiring.
November 6, 2025- The talk, other than about Blood Drives, trailer reorganizations and the entry in Prescott’s upcoming Veterans’ Day Parade, was regarding my pending move to Texas. My Red Cross associates are, in a pleasant surprise, fully on board with it. I have been with the local RC organization since 2012, so ties to the group are strong. Nonetheless, the most important thing to most Red Cross staffers and volunteers is family. To a one, those meeting in Prescott today expressed happiness at the upcoming arrival of my grandchild.
These next eight weeks or so will therefore be very much concerned with letting go of household furniture, a good many books and some other items that have accumulated over the past fourteen years. Another family member who made a similar move, a few years back, has,by example, given me a roadmap ( no pun intended) for this move to be done efficiently and successfully.
In the middle of it all comes Thanksgiving, and we will celebrate it in Grapevine, while looking ahead to spending next year in a house, instead of an apartment. I will drive out there and back, largely because of the uncertainty that still hangs over the airline industry, due to the government shutdown. My diamond jubilee will be the day after Thanksgiving, and besides, the three of us have so much for which to be grateful. Not the least of it is the arrival of family member # 4. I already feel a very deep love, not explicable to anyone who is not themselves a grandparent.
So, my plan is to spend 2-3 days each way on the road, and repeat the process just before Christmas, weather permitting.
November 5, 2025- Some things never seem to change. Two little girls decided to shut out their more officious row-mate, after she called attention to something they supposedly said. I have two thoughts on reporting vs. tattling. On the one hand, I thoroughly believe that children should be seen, heard and believed. The days when only adults were allowed to speak are, mercifully, long gone. On the other hand, not being naive, I know that children, being human, can also be wrong-in their assessment or even in their intentions. A child’s frame of reference is most likely limited by the brevity of their life experiences. Nevertheless, I listened carefully to her report, and equally carefully heard their side, not assessing blame or credit to either.
As it happened, we were starting what is called “Centers”, where students rotate among different activities in the classroom. So, the two girls went to one area and the third occupied herself in drawing and reading. They later were all collaborating on another activity, the earlier dispute seemingly set aside. The regular teacher returned shortly afterward, and I was on my merry way.
We can be very funny about hanging onto bad exchanges with others. I learned a long time ago that grudges are like dead weights. The kids who came across as bullies, in my younger days, were all different. Early on, I decided to look at them individually. The good-hearted boy who was always on my case about one thing or another became the man who was earnestly interested in my well-being. The troubled kid who was constantly trying to beat up others was, as I later witnessed, terrified by others who were stronger and meaner than he. The duo who harassed other kids, by riding up to them on their bikes and taking things, later became men who found themselves being targeted by more nefarious grifters. Holding grudges would have weighed me down. I’m glad to have moved on.
Hopefully, the very competent regular teacher will handle any ongoing tension between the three girls and their different personalities will find a way to mesh, over the years.
October 31, 2025- The idea of staging our Post 6 Trick or Treat Table on the corner sidewalk “paid off” handsomely: At least a hundred people stopped by and partook of candy, which was distributed, for the most part, by the fistful. Tiny tots and babies were fairly present. No one was trick or treating with a costumed dog, so that is an improvement. Mostly, though, the revelers were between the ages of 7-70.
I barely missed the older, and less flamboyant, version of All Hallows Eve: Samhain, still widely celebrated by people in Ireland, Scotland, Isle of Man and some parts of Wales, is also celebrated by Wiccans in England and other countries. The gist of the day is to honour the dead and guard against malevolence. There was some costuming, also called “mumming”, and going door to door for food, but those were secondary to the above focuses. Bonfires were common on Samhain, in pre-Christian Britain and Ireland. Putting a candle inside a hollowed-out pumpkin was more a function of helping revelers find their way, on darkened streets. A hollowed out turnip was also used for this purpose. Dressing up as devils or ghouls is more of an aberration, in modern Halloweens, and would have been abhorred by the Celtic pagans.
I have observed Halloween, in a conventional manner, most years since I was six and could go about on my own. I recall that the plastic masks caused my face to sweat profusely, almost every year. By the time I was fourteen, I decided to give up trick or treating and focused more on handing out goodies. On my own, in places as sparsely populated as South Deerfield, MA and Toltec City, AZ, kids knocked at my door and were welcomed with treats. So, this year was no different and given the vibrant Halloween celebrations on Mount Vernon Street and Park Street, it is a joy to hand out treats at the American Legion post, as I’ve done every year that I’ve been in Prescott, since 2015. (Before that, my north Prescott house, then my apartment, were just too far off the beaten path for most revelers.)
Whatever one’s view of Halloween, let us honour our departed loved ones just as we do on Memorial Day or on their individual special days.
October 22, 2025, Dublin- In any given new city, my wont is to wander a bit, usually towards a spire, dome or other prominent landmark-and sometimes off to a nearby spot that captures my attention.
After leaving Peace Park, that meant heading towards St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Knowing that it had closed to visitors for the day, I still wanted to get a sense of the exterior and the ambiance of the cathedral close. This was the deanery of one of 17th-18th Century Ireland’s most fascinating thinkers: Jonathan Swift. His satire was brought to me, early on. I treasured reading “Gulliver’s Travels”, when I was nine. I discussed “A Modest Proposal” with a cousin, when I was twelve. His admirers were the original “Swifties”.
The seat of the Church of Ireland was the second point in what turned out to be a triangular route. Here are some scenes of the exterior and of St. Patrick’s Park.
Main fountain, St. Patrick’s Park, DublinNorth face, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin (above and below)Bridge between Towers, St. Patrick’s CathedralWest face (front) of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin
I will return here some day and look into the interior of the great cathedral. For now, my quest turned a bit westward in Wood Quay, and past 18th Century row houses near St. Patrick’s Close.
Row houses of Davies Place, Dublin (above and below). There was an election scheduled for Friday, thus the signs for Polling Place.St. Nicholas Church, Francis Street, Dublin. This little gem is tucked away, behind a secure gate.Church of St. Augustine and St. John (aka John’s Lane Church, Dublin. It is a Catholic Church, with the highest steeple in Ireland.St. Audoen’s Church. This is the third point on the triangular route I took today. It was built in the late Twelfth Century and named for St. Ouen, a Norman French cleric. St. Audoen’s also served as the west gate to Dublin and was the last gate still intact in the 20th Century. Today, it serves Polish Catholics.West Wall of Dublin, near St. Audoen’s Church (Above and below)St. Audoen’s Church, behind linden treesThe Singing Hollow, St. Audoen’s Park, Dublin. Anyone who puts their head in the hollow and makes a noise, will hear it amplified.Child’s drawing of a medieval nun, St. Audoen’s ParkWest Gate of Dublin
Walking back towards Temple Bar, I passed Dublin City Hall. Of course, all business was finished for the day, but it still stood in stately pose.
Dublin City Hall
Molly Malone stood selling cockles and mussels, by Dublin Castle.
Statue of maiden selling wares, near Dublin Castle
It was a tad late, so I found Tapped, a small pub that serves a small variety of comfort food sandwiches, and whose main line is, of course, beer. I stuck with my N/A beverage and got decent service from the lone young lady who was zipping around the floor and taking the best care she could of the sizable crowd of rowdies. Cajun Chicken took care of my appetite.
Tomorrow will be another very full day-Birth of Baha’ullah celebration at the National Gallery of Ireland, a visit to Dublinia- a museum of city history, focused on the Vikings and a reunion with an old Baha’i friend from our Phoenix years.
October 20, 2025, Rosslare, Ireland- It had slipped my mind, the location of Ocean Lab Cafe-a function of “landmark bleed” (my term), where two places that are close to one another while still some distance apart, become adjacent in my mind. So, my friend Sian and I walked to the grocer, looking for the cafe. As we learned, Ocean Lab Cafe is on the berm that is closer to Goodwick Jetty. The grocer is off the street below. I had been to both, yesterday, while a bit tired from the day’s journey-thus, the landmark bleed.
No matter, we sat and enjoyed hot tea, with no crumpets, as it was mid-morning, and I had enjoyed a full Irish breakfast at Rose & Crown, prior to meeting Sian in the foyer of the guest house. We walked a short bit along the beach, both savouring the salt air and very pleasant clear sky. Ocean Lab is a small aquarium and oceanographic education centre for local children. It also offers Welsh products for visitors, so I purchased a box of tea bags and a tin of chai, each produced locally.
Our meeting lasted about two hours, then it was time for me to head towards the ferry to Ireland. Sian drove me as far as the ferry entrance. I then had to walk around a few barriers, to what turned out to be the Fishguard Harbour Train Station. I was the last one through the chute, but no matter-I was still five minutes shy of the gate closing, and that was only to board the bus to the ship. As it happened, we had to go back and pick up all the people who had been inside the priority visitors’ lounge. We ended up leaving well in time.
I decided to do something different this time-put my computer and journal in stowage and turn off my mobile phone. I enjoyed a full lunch, then sat and contemplated St. George’s Channel-the narrows of the Irish Sea, only nodding off for a short time, in mid-voyage. A few small children who were excited to look for whales, and a snoring man, the next table over, were there to break any monotony. The emerald sea was basically rather calm today, and the mood on board rather relaxed. We were in Rosslare in four hours and twenty minutes.
Irish customs and immigration checked the two American passports separately, but were a pleasant, jovial pair, thanking us for our cooperation. The rest of the bus riders faced a canine unit inspection, which turned up a couple of cans of English ale, and thankfully no drugs. We were let loose within ninety minutes. My transition from Europort to Home from Home Guest House did, however, entail a workaround past the usual tut-tutting from Spectrum, that I could not call my host without being connected to WiFi, and there was no connection at the port. A kind fellow passenger, who lives in Wexford, called my host and got directions. I found the bus that serves Rosslare, rode as far as Coast Hotel and voila, my host, Gemma, was waiting for me as I got off the bus. “You’d never find the place, in this darkness”, she said, and we walked the five minutes to the apartment house. I was given a cozy and warm introduction to Irish lodging facilities, with the requisite bath tub (in the British Isles, a mere shower stall is frowned upon, though some hoteliers have little choice.) Gemma excused herself, and I headed back to Coast Hotel, for a dinner of fish and chips. The meal was more than ample, and I felt another nice day had passed.
October 19, 2025, Fishguard & Goodwick, Wales- In 1797, a group of French soldiers sailed from Camaret-sur-Mer, Brittany to an area near the port of Fishguard. Their orders were to invade Wales and destabilize Britain. The rather cockeyed scheme failed, largely due to the soldiers having been poorly trained. They spent their first hours in Wales getting drunk. When they became sober, they found themselves surrounded-by a group of local women, armed with pitchforks. The Welsh women were led by one Jemima Nicholas, who secured twelve of the soldiers by herself. The course of this invasion is chronicled on a remarkable piece of art: The Last Invasion Tapestry. https://lastinvasiontapestry.cymru/
I stood at the tip of the jetty where much of the action took place. It is not a steep path from the water’s edge up to the top of the jetty, but mooring at that part of Fishguard Harbour would require very detailed knowledge of the rocks and shoals. The Jacobin troops would not likely have had that knowledge, but the locals did then, and certainly do now. When the invaders arrived, the Welsh men were at the area now used as a ferry port for travel to Ireland, and the women were guarding the jetty. The uninvited guests had no chance.
I left Salisbury fairly early, catching what i thought would be a train to Bristol, then was prepared to catch a separate train to Cardiff, Swansea and on to Carmarthen and Goodwick. Lo and behold, the train on which I embarked was headed to Swansea, and would arrive there four hours earlier than the train for which I had a ticket. With the okay from two conductors en route, I stayed on the train, clear to Swansea.
The train ended at Swansea, a key crossroads, west of the Welsh capital of Cardiff. I had to use a replacement bus to go on to Carmarthen, and so had to exit the train area. A transit auditor looked at my ticket and gave a mild scolding about not waiting at Cardiff for the later train. He then looked at his watch, sighed and told me to just go to ticket control and have my ticket exchanged. That was done very easily and I joined the queue for the bus to Carmarthen.
This bus, which took the place of the train, due to work being done on the tracks, took us through rolling hill country, in land from the winding and rocky coast of southwest Wales. It is said that Carmarthen may be the oldest town in Wales, having been founded by the Romans, around 75 AD/CE. We did not have any time to look around, though, as the train to Fishguard & Goodwick was set to leave, eight minutes after the bus rolled in. Besides, on a Sunday, most places were closed.
Once the lightly-populated train got to Fishgaurd & Goodwick, I had about thirty minutes before check-in at Rose & Crown Inn. I was able to stow my bags in an unused room, then went down to look about the town. As I walked near the harbour, three local boys were listening to some techno pop, on a hand-held radio. One of the lads started doing a fist pump dance. I pumped my fist a bit, which got them giggling.
The jetty on which Jemima and her crew stood against the invasion force is now a place for locals to walk their dogs and for visitors to get in their steps.
Rose & Crown Inn, GoodwickA fishing dog, at Goodwick JettyFishguard Harbour, with Goodwick Jetty to the far right.Goodwick Jetty, with Pembroke Peninsula to the south (above and below)Fishguard Town, from Goodwick Jetty
My purpose in Goodwick is to meet a friend from Pembroke, tomorrow morning. This evening, though, I settled in at Rose & Crown. The young lady at desk had been working largely alone, all day, and looked exhausted. She nonetheless summoned cheerfulness and helped me get up to the room. The fresh crew at dinner time was also very pleasant and offered a plate of brisket with fried potatoes- great stuff!
This small introduction to Wales has given me a fine impression of the country within a country. Tomorrow morning, my friend from Pembroke and I will walk about the harbour area, just a bit, then head over to Ocean Lab Cafe, a Goodwick original.
October 13, 2025, Frankfurt-am-Main- I stayed in a nice hotel, though not a “green” one. I had a fine meal in a restaurant run by Palestinians, and there was no bratwurst on the menu. I took high-speed rail, instead of a bus, to a spot fairly close to the Baha’i House of Worship, at Langenhain, though I still got in my steps. Those were the biggest differences between this visit to Frankfurt, as well as the fact that it was not my home base this time. (That honour has been spread across several cities.)
I had no trouble catching the train from Heidelberg and there were no delays. The S-Bahn got me close to Garner Hotel, with the walk being .4 mile. Once there, I found that getting dinner involved a bit of exploration of a nearby business district, so my Sagitarrian instincts took me down the street-almost, but not quite, back to the S-Bahn drop-off.
Old watch tower at Bockenheimer Warte station, Frankfurt-am- MainMarkuskirche, near Palmengarten, Frankfurt-am-Main
My meal at Konig Doner Pizza was superb, Turkish-style served by Palestinians. It set a fine tone for the rest of my visit here. After a restful night, it was time to revisit the Baha’i House of Worship. The S-Bahn took me to the village of Lorsbach, where I found the directions from Google Maps taking me along a country highway, up a hill and into a nature preserve.
Naturpark Hochtanus, near Hofheim. (Above and below)Roadside Memorial to a man named Lars. This is at an area which features a treacherous bend in the road. I can only imagine the circumstances of his passing.
After I had come to the limits of the town of Langenhain, a young woman stopped and gave me a ride the rest of the way to the House of Worship. Here are some scenes of that simple, yet majestic site, which I last visited in 2014.
Visitors Center, Baha’i House of Worship, LangenhainBaha’i House of Worship, Langenhain (above and below)Small planter gardens, Baha’i House of Worship, LangenhainDome of Baha’i House of Worship, Langenhain, bearing the inscription, “God is the All-Glorious”, in Arabic.
After visiting with the volunteer caretakers, Lutz and Hannah, I walked back into Langenhain village. There, I found what was supposed to be the bus stop back to Hofheim. It was near a K-9 school, where the parents of kindergartners were picking up their children, at day’s end. One of the ninth graders walked back towards the main road, and kept looking over her shoulder, more out of curiosity than apprehension-as if trying to send me an unspoken message. Once a certain amount of time went by, I saw a bus on the main road, heading towards Hofheim, so it occurred to me that the girl was probably trying to convey that the stop was elsewhere. I went back to the main road, found the right bus stop and was in Hofheim, twenty minutes later. From there, it was easy to catch the S-Bahn back to Frankfurt, with a stop at Domplatz, near Frankfurt Cathedral and the Main River.
That area was one that I visited in 2014, as well, and the photos were lost, so spending about an hour there was in order. Here are a few photos of the Dom (Cathedral).
Dom (Cathedral) of Frankfurt (above and below)Exterior and spires of Frankfurt Dom (above and below)
After enjoying a fine German meal, at Main Kai, I walked a bit along the Main itself.
Main River, near Dom
It was a soothing visit to the House of Worship, and reminiscing about the area gave me some peace. Tomorrow, I will spend a day going to Strasbourg, though not having much time there, I will most likely be focused on regrouping my energy.
October 12, 2025, Frankfurt-am-Main- It was suggested by a fellow hosteler in Salzburg that I take dinner at Vetter’s, an authentic Bavarian establishment in Old Town Heidelberg. Apparently, a lot of Vetter’s fans were telling their friends the same thing. There was no room to be had there this evening. The reservation list stretched into next week.
I found another fabulous spot for dinner-Joe Molese Burgers and Sandwiches. More about Joe’s and its fabulous staff later. First off, though, some words about my stroll down the hill and around Old Town, in areas both full of my fellow travelers and others with only a few locals going about their affairs.
As I bid farewell to Schloss Heidelberg, it was the foliage that stood out.
Foliage at south end of Schlosse HeidelbergHeiliggeistkirche (Holy Spirit Church), Heidelberger Alstadt
I continued looking for a place called the Red Church, wandering through the alleys near Heidelberg University.
University DistrictRosenkirche, Heidelberg
I found the Red Church at the north end of Old Town.
Rosenkirche, HeidelbergHeidelberg University, with Peterskirche in backgroundPeterskirche, Old Town Heidelberg
As I rounded a corner, there was an apartment courtyard, where a man was playing table tennis with his young daughter. Nearby was this gem of a mural.
Modernist mural, Old Town Heidelberg
and this:
Cubist leopard, Old Town Heidelberg
The girl’s favourites were these:
Pokemon characters, Old Town HeidelbergPlay space, Old Town HeidelbergBored face, Old Town HeidelbergGuard tower, east end of Old HeidelbergRiver Neckar, from Old Town Heidelberg (above and below)Good luck Monkey, Old Bridge, Heidelberg
It’s said that to rub the gold orb will bring good fortune. many visitors were doing just that, before I took this photo.
Elector Karl-Theodor of Heidelberg
Karl-Theodor became Elector of the Palatinate in 1742 and united it with Bavaria in 1777, setting upon a program of economic modernization of this realm. He built the English garden in Munich and was an avid patron of the arts. In the long run, however, Karl-Theodor showed little interest in his realm, leaving it to Austrian and French invaders, in the 1790s. This statue shows that it was his earlier programs that matter most to posterity.
South Gate, Old Bridge, Heidelberg
Now, back to Joe Molese.
Joe Molese Burgers and Sandwiches, Old Town Heidelberg
This establishment provided the absolute best burger I have ever had-and that’s after a lot of hamburgers over 70 +years. It was not overly messy, such as I normally enjoy. It was simply flavourful and was not overshadowed by a mound of French fries. The lovely server and the effusive manager made everyone feels at home, despite the fact that the place was as packed as every other restaurant in Old Town, on Saturday night. When I went to pay, furthermore, it turned out that the young couple sitting to my right had already covered my tab! We had not spoken a word to one another, but there it was. I would go back to Joe Molese’s again, in a heartbeat.
Finally, this is the shop whose clerk helped me locate Lotte-The Backpackers Hostel. I bought a couple of items from her. It would be nice if more people patronized her little place.
My favourite souvenir shop, Old Town Heidelberg
It was not easy to say farewell to this enchanting place, but there was more joy waiting for me here in Frankfurt, and at the Baha’i House of Worship in Langenhain.
October 11, 2025, Heidelberg- The older man was, for all the world, a penitente, walking short steps down the cobblestone hill, in flip flops of all things, determined to make the walk downward on his own. Nearby, a six-year-old boy was fussing at his mother, telling her to lift him up. The old man lifted his head, which had been focused on the steps he was taking. “Such a grand fortress up there. Maybe you aren’t ready to see it!”, he said softly to the unruly child. The boy gave one last shriek, then stopped squalling and got up on his own. He told his mother he was just tired and didn’t want to go uphill. They turned and went back down towards their lodging.
In 2014, I happened by this fascinating university city, on the way from Strasbourg to Frankfurt, as it was part of the train route. On that visit, I spent time at Heidelberg University and walked to the Neckar River. The castle, though, stuck in my mind and I was determined that it would be on the itinerary of a future visit to Europe. That visit came this evening, and will continue for a bit, tomorrow morning.
I had a small item of business to settle in Munich, this morning, and the requisite office didn’t open until 9 a.m., today being Saturday. This gave me time to look about the Karlsplatz District of the great Bavarian city. Here are some of the sights of that midtown sector.
Karlstadt Tower, MunichEighteenth Century meets Twenty-first, Karlsplatz, MunichReaching towards the sky, Karlsplatz, Munich Landgericht, (District Court Building), Karlsplatz, Munich
Finally, in Altbotanischegarten, there was an entirely different air about the city. Aside from a few people also seeking quietude, and a few animals, the Old Botanical Garden was giving a Saturday morning respite to the frenzy of Friday night.
South entrance to Altbotanischegarten, MunichHeart of Altbotanischegarten, Munich (above and below)Peterskirche Tower, from Atlbotanischegarten, Munich“Der Ring”, by Mauro Staccioli, Alt Botanischegarten, Munich
Munich, thus, was just a primer for my energy level. Once in Heidelberg, at the small but very comfortable and welcoming Lotte, The Backpackers Hostel, I set out for the nearby Schloss (Fortress) Heidelberg.
Here are some scenes from the exterior and gardens of the castle.
Tower of Schloss Heidelberg, from Lotte HostelView of Heidelberg, from the SchlossIvy-covered south wall, Schloss Heidelberg (above and below, with pink wig tree in the middle)A Baden-Wurttemburg AutumnSouth Tower and rampart, Schloss Heidelberg
The wonders of Heidelberg continue in the next post.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 