The Road to Diamond, Day 341: On Cocooning

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November 3, 2025- I revisited a small regular gathering today. One usually consistent attendee was conspicuously absent. It was explained to me that this person is on an inward journey and does not wish to be with anyone, for the time being. While this news is a bit disconcerting, I have to wish friend well.

I have rarely, if ever, ensconced myself in seclusion for very long. There was a period of time, after Penny passed (2011), when I kept a lot to myself, but there were always other people in the house and I never really felt like I was cocooning. In truth, though, old habits and ways of viewing the world, some of which I had held since adolescence, were being shed. Wrapped up in contemplation, I came out of that period, towards the end of 2014. During those three years, there were a few adventures and a couple of colossal missteps, that might have wrecked my life, and those of a few other people, but for the Grace of the Almighty.

We are each ever in a state of flux, with changing circumstances that could either propel us forward, or upend everything we know and cherish. Sometimes, life brings us a little of both. I see that this might be happening to said friend, and can only be a well-wisher. My own life, in the next six weeks, will see the conclusion of one great chapter and the beginning of another, perhaps grander. I will not be cocooning, though.

The Road to Diamond, Day 340: Disquietude

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November 2, 2025- The meeting, held unusually on a Sunday, was going like clockwork. Out of the blue came a rash of cursing and threatening language. Those involved knew fully well that they were disrupting the meeting next door. They made it clear that they didn’t care-and further, that no one was going to tell them to stop arguing and leave the building.

The right to use foul language and disrupt business, however, seems to end three feet from one’s neighbour’s face. In a privately-owned facility, moreover, a person may be compelled to leave, at the discretion of the building’s owner, or her/his lawful representatives. This is what ended up happening today. The person responsible for keeping order in the meeting, aided by two other officers, escorted the four disquiet people out of the building. There was some discussion outside, but the four went their separate ways, apparently understanding that attracting the attention of the police was not in their best interests.

This is my own main argument for not letting alcohol, or any mind-altering substance, affect one’s ability to carry on with life. I was, at one time, a terrible drunk, and I will leave it at that. I seldom, if ever, though, threw my weight around. On the few occasions that I did so, I was readily called to account, and there are those in my past who are all too happy to remind me of that time when…. So be it. Life is a series of mishaps and, hopefully, of lessons learned.

As a society, though, we still have drug allusions that are used to extol the virtues of a legitimate food or beverage-i.e. “It’s better than crack”. Oh? How do you know about crack? The fact that such a horrible substance is seen in a positive light gives me the willies. Disquietude can be found in any nook and cranny of society. Dealing with it, rooting it out, takes fortitude-and persistent effort-the kind that does not allow for a positive view of an addicting substance.

The Road to Diamond, Day 339: Continuity

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November 1, 2025- One of the things that appeals to me most about Home Base I is that not a whole lot changes, on occasions when I am away-even for almost two months. A restaurant closed, with the promise of re-opening in another location, “soon”. Taking its place was a high-priced establishment that serves dinner only, five nights a week. No other changes are evident, though.

I dropped in at one favourite stop, and found the owner, a friend, uncharacteristically angry. It turned out that someone reneged on a promised gig, for the flimsiest of excuses. I would have been furious. I think my friend handled it rather well, considering.

Today was All Saints Day, mostly celebrated heartily in predominately Roman Catholic countries. It is a national holiday in the Philippines and in several Latin American nations. In Mexico, it dovetails with Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), which is more prominent in Mexican culture. I was present for the holiday in Manila, in 2022, even if I was merely wending my way to Aquino International Airport. It was still a day when many Filipinos were on the move, both domestically and internationally. To me, sainthood is relative. Only a few souls have neared perfection, in this mortal life, and even fewer have attained it.

I have a long way to go, but that’s okay. I am giving life my best shot.

The Road to Diamond, Day 338: Samhain ’25

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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.

The Road to Diamond, Day 336: The Bright Lights

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October 29. 2025- The longest journey I have ever undertaken, across the largest number of countries, would be meaningless, but for the people I met along the way, who made Europe in general feel like a giant Home Base and certain places feel as homey as Prescott, Oley or Grapevine.

Above all the rest was my Nynashamn family: Sarah, Matias and their children. First Camp was my lodging, and it is salubrious, the perfect blend of forest and sea. My heart’s home, though, was that little apartment on a hill, Home Base #4.

Not far behind were Boris, in Split, with his hospitality and knowledge of the Dalmatian coast and its antiquity; Adis, in Sarajevo and Srebrenica, bringing the struggles of the Bosnian people into stark relief, without vilifying the present Serbian people who live among them; Lisa, Pupak and Alan, in Findhorn, giving me Home Base # 5, with the energy and spirit of the northeastern Scottish coast, mixed with a sense of mysticism; Sian, in Fishguard & Goodwick, going out of her way to make sure I felt welcome; Badi, in Reykjavik, taking time form his schedule to welcome me to the Icelandic Baha’i Center; Sasha, in Vienna, guiding me around the Baha’i National Center and the volunteers at the Baha’i House of Worship, Langenhain. My gratitude also to the Baha’i friends of Dublin, for including me in the Twin Holy Day celebrations and to Carmel, who came from Derry and met me in mid-town Dublin, albeit for a short while.

People I met randomly, along the way, also stay in my heart: The concierge at START Hostel, Keflavik, who did my laundry on short notice and summoned a taxi driver, to guide me around Thingvellir (Junction of two tectonic plates) and the geysers that are continuously spewing forth, not far from there; the driver himself, with his deep knowledge of the Reykjanes Peninsula; servers who made me feel like family, at Gray Cat, Bao Bites, Reykjavik Fish (Reykjavik) Take Off Bistro(Keflavik); Brod & Salt; Grain Cafe, Meno Male, Mahalo and La Solo (Stockholm); Espresso House, and Taco Bar(Nynashamn); Wisby Hof, Cafe Amalia and Visby Ost (Visby); The Rib House (Helsingor); Mr. Pho (Copenhagen); St. Christopher’s Cafe (Berlin);Pryztanek Pierogarnia (Krakow); Chata na Zaborskiej (Oswiecim); Konoba Fratelli (Split); Restaurant Sebilj (Sarajevo); Station Bar and Cafe (Ljubljana); Stadtalm Naturfreund Restaurant (Salzburg); Eden Hotel Restaurant (Munich); Joe Molese Burgers and Sandwiches (Heidelberg); Main Kai (Frankfurt am Main); Hotel Strasbourg Dining Room (Strasbourg); The Coffee Shop (Metz); JOST Hostel Italian Cafe (Le Havre); IBIS Hotel Breakfast Bar (Portsmouth, UK); Cote French Cafe (Salisbury, UK); Rose and Crown Inn Dining Room (Goodwick, UK); Coast Hotel Dining Room (Rosslare, Ireland); La Rendezvous and Ne Zha (Dublin); NUVA and Burgers & Beers (Edinburgh); The Captain’s Table (Findhorn); The Pheasant Inn and The Flying Egg (Harlington). There were also the homeless couple on the train from Newhaven to Portsmouth, the tourist office clerk in Budapest,the souvenir vendor in Heidelberg and the admission clerk at Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, who showed particular concern fro my well-being.

HI Loft (Reykjavik); First Camp (Nynashamn); Hotel Skandia (Helsingor); Generator Hostel (Copenhagen); St. Christopher’s Hostel (Berlin); Villa Centro (Oswiecim); Red Radisson (Vienna); Stadtalm Naturfreund (Salzburg); Alora Heart of Zagreb and Mickey Mouse Apartment (Zagreb); Hotel Pax (Split); Guest House Yildiz (Sarajevo); Lotte Backpackers Hostel (Heidelberg); Hotel Strasbourg Montagne Verte(Strasbourg); Hotel Escurial (Metz); Rose and Crown (Fishguard & Goodwick); Home from Home (Rosslare) and Argyle Backpackers Hostel (Edinburgh) were standout lodging facilities. While I had no substandard experience anywhere, those are places I would recommend to the adventurous soul.

There are seven weeks of gratitude, in a few long paragraphs. I have taken today off, pretty much, other than going through two boxes of mail and old newspapers (The delivery man and the front office at Gannett don’t seem to communicate much). Two months are left to me, at Home Base Prescott. More about what lies ahead in November, December and beyond, in the next post.

The Road to Diamond, Day 333, Part II: Castle in the Gloaming

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October 26, 2025, Edinburgh- The crowd stood, silently, almost breathless, in front of the great castle gate. It was past sunset and the building was closed, yet the multitude stood in awe. The allure of so many centuries’ legacy cannot be easily explained, but there it was.

I took the train from the small town of Forres, past Elgin (where a couple of disgruntled travelers had gone, after the long bus ride to Inverness yesterday), and through Aberdeen, a surprisingly bustling city-even on a Sunday.

North Sea, off Elgin, Scotland
Montrose Harbour

The train ride this time was uncomplicated, and I was back at Waverley around 3:30. Getting to my lodging, Argyle Backpackers, involved a short walk (albeit up the Roxborough Steps) and one bus ride. Along the steps, there is a “greeter”, who offers to help carry one’s bags. I was able to carry my own, but he offers a nice service to those in need.

Argyle is an old building, a bit shopworn, but the warmth of this place and the enthusiasm of its staff would bring me back, in a heartbeat, if I am ever again in Edinburgh.

Argyle Backpackers Hostel, Edinburgh New Town

After check-in, though, I felt the clock ticking, if I had any hope of visiting Royal Mile-and Edinburgh Castle, so back on the bus I went.

The Mile was already enveloped in gloaming, but no matter. Several enthusiastic crowds, of all ages, were in the streets, and looking down from the castle walls.

Royal Mile (above, and below)
Brightness along Royal Mile
View from Edinburgh Castle (above and below)
Edinburgh Castle (above and below)
Castle and crowd
Edinburgh Castle-banners and high watch tower
72nd Highlanders Memorial-honouring those who died in the Afghan Campaigns of 1878-80.
Celtic Cross, at Castle Esplanade. This honours Scottish cavalrymen who died in the Boer War.

Once down from the Castle, I headed to Burgers and Beers-for a burger and an N/A. The staff and a few of us patrons, offered encouragement to a fellow visitor who was having a medical issue. Her uncle showed up a few minutes later, and took charge of the situation. The place was, all in all, lively, with families flowing through to the back restaurant and a few of us just enjoying the atmosphere in the front. Afterward, I resumed my walkabout of Royal Mile.

St. Giles Cathedral
Bank of Scotland
Statue of Adam Smith

Seeing the founder of capitalism was enough for one night, so I headed back to the warmth and comfort of Argyle, spending the rest of the evening with other hostelers, from Italy and Spain. The sounds of Spanish guitar are ever soothing.

The Road to Diamond, Day 333, Part I: Round Houses in the Mist

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October 26, 2025, Edinburgh- We had a fine Scottish breakfast, on this misty morning. Again, there was no haggis-and nary a bit of porridge. Scrambled eggs, a small bit of bacon and grilled tomatoes filled the bill, along with Alan’s fresh-baked bread and plum jam-plus cheese.

Lisa then took me on a tour of Findhorn’s round houses and small gardens. Here is a look at some of these.

Round home, Findhorn Eco Village. Lisa said this house is presently unoccupied.
Wishing Stone, Findhorn Eco Village. Here is a good place for meditation, on a fine day. (Above and below)
Lisa at the Wishing Stone
This round house is near my lodging of last night.
A wee bit of foliage
Two more round houses
Findhorn Forest
Inside a gathering place
Inside Meditation Round House. The similarity of this and another such house with Indigenous American round houses is remarkable.
A “hobbit house” (Above and below)
Community Center
Open meditation centre
Open meditation centre
Another sacred space and standing stone, an ARK (Area of Restorative Kindness) above and below

This is the sort of place where one goes for restoration. Thankfully, I need not board a plane to find such a space. There are ARKs of this sort, just about anywhere one might go in the world, and we have our share in the Southwest U.S. I will return here again, if it be the Divine Will, yet in the meantime, it makes me all the more appreciative of sacred spaces closer to Home Base.

I bid farewell to Lisa, Alan and Pupak- and boarded a train bound for Edinburgh, via Aberdeen. The magic was not done with me yet.

The Road to Diamond, Day 332: A Nook By The Sea

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October 25, 2025, Findhorn, Scotland- The gentle couple welcomed me into their home, the last of three cozy, warm cottages that greeted me upon my arrival in this ecological village, high on the North Sea. It is a place of learning, of adaptation and of unrelenting hope. Here, I will spend a peaceful night, knowing that the residents have endured gales and storms that are far worse than the mild chill that whispers outside.

I easily made my way from Travel Guest House to Waverley Train Station, and stopped to enjoy a Cornish pasty for breakfast. Looking at the nearby sign board, just two minutes before we were to board a train to Aberdeen, the ride was canceled. After finishing the pasty, I went to the Travel Centre and rebooked- this time for a train to Perth, which would be followed by a bus that would take us through Cairngorms National Park-the crown jewel of the eastern Highlands, thence to Inverness, where I would meet my friend Lisa and go on to Findhorn.

I walked up to platform 19, where the train to Perth was already waiting. Needless to say, there were a number of folks from just north of Aberdeen, who were irritated by the last-minute scrub, but they were making the best of it. In fairly short order, we were underway, and I was seeing a Scotland that was enjoying clear skies, after the cold rain of yesterday afternoon and evening.

Crossing the Forth Bridge to Rosyth
Firth of Forth, through the trees (above and below)
Firth of Forth meets the North Sea
Burntisland

From there, it was only another hour before we reached Perth, turning inland at Leven and passing through Cupar and Abernethy to the home of Scone Palace. We would not see the palace, though, as the bus took us through glorious highland scenes. I was, however, in a crowded vehicle, with no room to maneuver either a camera or phone, without being a nuisance to the patient grandmother to my right. Take my word for it, though, Caringorms is well worth a journey in itself.

A number of people got off the bus at Landmark Forest Adventure Park, and in another half hour, we were in Inverness. There was no view of Loch Ness- it’s another 20 miles to the southwest, but the city has Beauly Firth, Moray Firth and Clava Cairns to recommend it to a visitor, besides being the northern gateway to Cairngorms. Lisa, a friend from the Earth Rising internet group, which has been meeting once a month, for the past six years, was there to greet me and be my guide to Findhorn.

We headed straightaway to The Captain’s Table, the first warm, cozy cabin-like place of welcome. I “tucked in” to a hearty bowl of cullen skink- Scotland’s other signature dish, (no haggis was either offered or served on this visit). Cullen skink is fish chowder: Smoked haddock, potatoes and onions, usually in a broth of milk or cream. It was a wee bit o’ heaven!

With me fortified against the chill, we explored the small beach at the confluence of River Findhorn and Forres Cove.

Forres Cove
Wharf at The Captain’s Table Cafe
A Scottish sunset (above and below)

Lisa finds the shades of grey things of beauty. Tonight, I agree with her.

Surf meets sedge
Lonely walkers on an evening beach
A neap tide-not as cold as it looks.

We drove back to the village, and stopped for a bit at Lisa’s house, the second cozy cabin. After a brief chat, it was time to head to the home of friends Alan and Pupak, my lodging for the night. We sat and discussed spiritual matters, and health protocols. Now, it is time for rest, so I bid all A’chiu va (aye chuh va)-good night, in Scottish Gaelic.

The Road to Diamond, Day 330: A Grand Gallery and A Hidden Hotel

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October 23, 2025, Dublin- The status of churches and cathedrals in Ireland, in terms of denomination, often needs a scorecard. Some great buildings are under the Church of Ireland. Others are under the Roman Catholic Church. One parish, St. Audoen’s, has one of each. (The Protestant building is under renovation.)

Into the morass of denominational turmoil, in the mid-19th Century, stepped the figures of al-Bab and Baha’ullah, Whose birthdays, close together on the Badi (Persian Lunar) calendar, we Baha’is celebrate in back-to-back Holy Days. The concept of Progressive Revelation explains the differences among the Faiths of the past and offers a way for those of all Faiths to reconcile.

Our observance of the Birth of Baha’ullah took place in the cafe of the National Gallery of Ireland. The arts are celebrated and honoured in the Baha’i traditions. So, in an environment of splendour, some 25 of us sat and discussed various topics of interest. Following the celebration, which of course included a slice of cake and beverage, of one’s choosing, some of us went to enjoy other rooms of the Gallery.

National Gallery of Ireland

The paintings I found of interest included John Lavery’s “Her First Communion”, Jan De Beer’s “The Flight Into Egypt”, Adam Pankraz Ferg’s “A Landscape with Figures and Horses”, Jack B. Yeats’ “Above the Fair”. None of these may be shown outside the Gallery, save on its website. Thus, there are no photos, even with watermarks.

Upon leaving the National Gallery, I headed to Dublinia, a museum dedicated to the interaction between Celts, Vikings and Norman French, over the centuries, in the development of the city.

Viking information, at Dublinia

As we learned in Reykjavik, and further in Stockholm, the word Viking most likely refers to one who lives near or comes from an area near, a vik– a bay or cove. Over time, it came to mean anyone who came to the British Isles or mainland Europe, from Scandinavia or Denmark.

Here is the basic truth about the founding of Dublin.

Origin of modern Dublin

The Vikings found two Celtic settlements in the area, one on each bank of the River Liffey.

Ath Cliath (u-thuh clee uh) and Duiblinn (dove-lin).
Interior of a simple peasant hut, during Viking rule
A street scene, in 14th Century Dublin
Looking down from the steps to St. Michael’s Tower, Dublinia

Looking at my watch, it did not seem wise to go up the steps to St. Michael’s Tower, as I normally would. There was a meeting with an old Baha’i friend, at a hotel across town, in a relatively short time. Iveah Gardens Hotel was shown to me as being at a major intersection in central Dublin, except that the people who worked at that location had never heard of it. They directed me westward, towards “a big building, that you can’t miss”. In other words, they couldn’t find it on their GPS, either.

I eventually did find an Iveah Court, an apartment building. The guard there thought it was back towards where I had just been, “but in any case, just walk straight, no turns”. Two inquiries later, I came upon Iveah Garden Hotel. It is indeed an elegant place, but is discretely signed. The young lady for whom Penny and I were mentors, in the 2000s, had grown into an elegant and well-spoken teacher of the French language, the promulgation of which was one of her principal reasons for being in Dublin. We got to catch up on the course of our respective lives, for twenty minutes in the hotel tea shop and fifteen minutes walking towards her work site.

Bidding farewell to C, I headed down Cameron Street, towards Temple Bar. I found Ne Zha, an intriguing Asian tapas cafe, which normally requires reservations. The owner found a stool, on which I could sit by the kitchen and observe the chefs at work. It was a fabulous small dinner that ensued.

Tomorrow, I bid farewell to Dublin and to Ireland, with its cousin to the northeast on my radar screen.

The Road to Diamond, Day 329, Part I: The Cat, The Rat and The Cathedral

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October 22, 2025, Dublin- The story is as old as mammals themselves: A pest is pursued by its primary predator, and tries to escape into a safe haven. The only problem is, the hiding place is big enough for the pursuer as well. In the end, neither got out.

Christ Church Cathedral is one of three major houses of worship in Dublin. It was the only one of the three that I was able to enter and wander its two accessible floors. Time and the flow only allow for a little on any given day. St. Patrick’s Cathedral and St. Audoen’s Church offered glimpses of their exteriors and closes. The interiors will wait for another time.

I spent last night in the company of fellow Baha’is, at our Faith’s National Centre, in Ballsbridge on the near South Side. We celebrated the Birth of al-Bab which, as readers may remember, occurs back-to-back with the celebration of the Birth of Baha’ullah. It is these Holy Days which give me the reason to stay in one place for 2-3 days, and what finer place is there than the capital of the Irish Republic, with its spirit of independent investigation and expression of truth.

Christ Church Cathedral lies almost due west of stately Dublin Castle, the old seat of the British Viceroys. These two were the focus of today’s walkabout, once I set out from Abigail’s Hostel, a bit north of them in Temple Bar, across from the River Liffey. This is the heart of Dublin and, despite their association with colonialism and the Reformation, Castle and Cathedral are reflective of the fierceness of Irish spirit.

A Temple Bar scene, Dublin

I began at the Castle, and its adjacent Chapel.

North Arch, Dublin Castle
Dublin Castle (Above and below)
Chapel Royal, east of Dublin Castle
Grand Hallway, Dublin Castle

The Presidents of Ireland have their portraits hung here, as did the Viceroys of the British regime before them. Thus has the Irish nation made use of a building that was once the symbol of subjugation.

The first Irish President I remember from childhood was Eamon de Valera. He was one of the few remaining heroes of the Easter Rising (1916) and was also a celebrated figure among the Irish of eastern Massachusetts, New York, Chicago and elsewhere in North America.

Eamon de Valera, President of Ireland from 1959-1973.
Mary Robinson, first female President of Ireland (1990-97)

After going through the crown rooms of the Castle, it was time to go to the Cathedral. A short five minute walk found me at the entrance to Christ Church, seat of the Church of Ireland.

Foyer, Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin
Nave, Christ Church Cathedral (above and below)
Nave and transept, Christ Church Cathedral
Tiled floor, Nave of Christ Church Cathedral
Tiled floor of the south chapel, Christ Church Cathedral
Altar and sanctuary, South Chapel, Christ Church Cathedral
Great organ, Christ Church Cathedral
A scene from the Crypt, Christ Church Cathedral (above and below)

This brings us to the titular cat and rat. The two were found, mummified, inside the great organ. They are now framed and placed next to the Crypt toilets.

Two errant adversaries

Once I left the Crypt, lighter figures greeted me.

Millennium Child, Peace Park, Dublin
Peace Park, Dublin
Peace Park, Dublin

With that, my attentions were drawn to the exterior and close of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, about which more in the next post.