Thoughts, images, and all sorts of things.....

 It's time to be leaving the United States behind for now.  My next blog will come from the exotic Far East.  But meantime, to close the chapter on New England.  You'll remember that I was on a jet place, while wife and sister-in-law were left behind on an airbridge at Logan International clutching tickets and a little money. On I flew headed for Portland, Maine and the warm welcome of Henry (Hank) Carey.   One of the finest men I ever knew.  And the welcome WAS warm.    I checked when I arrived on the 3rd of July evening and was told that I had come off the last flight from Boston that evening.  Consternation.  What were those girls going to do?   Hank was very laid back.  "We'll just head up on the road, they'll catch up somehow." I wasn't so convinced.  Meanwhile, back in Boston, they had been told that there was a small airline - twin propellors and zero altitude that would be bunny hopping up the coast a little later....

 I think I left you on an inter-terminal shuttle at JFK.  So arriving at the desk for Boston was busy but all going well apart from being behind schedule.  Short flight to Logan, and discovered we had to run like mad for the Delta to Portland Maine and Hank Carey.   Arriving at the desk the agent said "Over there.  The gate's closing".   Down the air bridge and the aircraft door was just closing.    "I've only got one seat left" the stewardess proclaimed. The ladies decided I'd better go and meet up with Hank. As the door closed behind me, I heard them yell "Tickets!  Money!" and my hand - I'm told - appeared round the edge of the hatch, clutching the necessary.   I collapsed into the remaining seat.  The stewardess said to me, "You cut that fine sir.   Can I fetch you a drink?"   I had a vision of an ice cold G+T with condensation on the glass.   Back she came.  "No sorry.  This flight originated in Tampa, ...

 It's amazingly two weeks since I last had you joining me in the States in a little New England town called Thomaston - the town that went to sea. My other visits to the US and Canada have been sparse.   A nice family holiday also in New England; a stop over in Honolulu; a bus side trip from Miami Airport to Miami Springs; a stop over in Los Angeles; a trip to St Anne de Beaupre and Quebec City. But there is one more tale I wanted to share from that very first trip to the US. As I mentioned, it was the 3rd of July, and all true Americans were travelling, north and south, east and west to join families for Independence Day celebrations.   It was a very hot and sticky day.   Our entry point into the US was at JFK New York.  We flew along the flight path and looking down could see that great symbol of Independence, the Statue of Liberty standing on its own island in New York Harbour.   Immigration took its time.   The plan then was that we - I was accompa...

 A rest from my own travels takes us to the Basque Country in northern Spain.  At Christmas time we often sing carols from that region - such as "Infant King" and " The Angel Gabriel".  I came across this account of Basque Christmases on Buber.net.    And I thought it charming.    "For the Basque people Christmas has always been one of the most well-loved holidays of the year. Having the whole family round to have Christmas dinner together, our carols and our ancient customs, such as the Olentzero have always been in the centre of the celebration which we, as Basque live with great intensity. Because for the Basque people Christmas means festivals "par excellence". Nowadays as in the rest of the world, Christmas has become very consumerist, but in Euskadi it is more than just that. It is the reflection of the history of a country, with traditions that have been handed down by our ancestors, and which still remain in almost all of the families in Euska...

Federated Church Thomaston ME   US Highway 1 is almost 2,400 miles long and runs from Key West in Florida to Fort Kent in Maine. The Maine section is particularly scenic.  And right there on the Route is the wonderful town of Thomaston ME.  In 1977 I was invited to take part in an exchange with Bob Howard, who was the minister of the Federated Church - so named because it is a congregation simultaneously part of the Methodist Church and the United Church of Christ.    So for three hot sun-filled months, we lived among a group of people who were indeed “finest kind”.   That’s the local expression for what our southern neighbours might refer to as “good eggs.” Everything about Thomaston was special.  The architecture reflects the history that sea going captains built their houses there.  They employed ship’s carpenters and could source the best of materials.  And in those days Thomaston was a busy port - hence the  soubriquet - “the ...