Burning Man, The Black Rock Desert, Nevada

Summer was rough on all fronts. In July, Bill wrote..."Maybe we should go to Burning Man. I'm thinking about this for the first time - go to Burning Man. hmmm".

Burning Man... an event that I have wanted to attend for years.....It took a short moment of calculation (after all, I don't have a job). And really, how could there be any other reply? Of course I said yes. As with everything that Bill Peckham does (well, almost everything...) the trip is being blogged. We are using the "he said, she said format" my post is directly under his @ IHD. When the trip is over, I will repost my post in its entirety here - I am cheating though... most will be a repost, but a lot will be my version of the trip (not posted on IHD). You'll have to use this link to read Bill's version of the trip. Here is a link to my photo album of the trip.

Saturday 8/29
I am still in NYC, packing. I fly to Seattle on Monday. Bill has been doing the brunt of the work. My sleeping pack is stuffed, my backpack almost packed and now I am just organizing myself for the trip. This will be my first trip to Burning Man. I've wanted to go for years and was instantly jealous when Bill told me about his past trips. Bill is officially a "Burner". Me, well, they have another name for first timers....

Burning Man encourages Radical Self Reliance. Fitting that we are writing about it on IHD. Was it radical when Bill decided to go it alone on home hemodialysis all those years ago? I know that people thought I was pretty radical when I followed in his footsteps. And for both of us, solo home hemodialysis changed our lives by keeping us healthy, active and well... self reliant.

And so, we will drive to the desert, set up camp and experience a city and a culture of 40,000 people that exists for only one week. (we'll be there for three days) Then we'll pack up camp, leave no trace behind and carry with us the what we experienced...possibly... burning the man, the sights and sounds of Black Rock City (fingers crossed, a sunrise or two), a lot of dust, pictures and memories of living for three days in the desert, years after our native kidneys stopped working and we rely on medicine, science & technology to be alive.

Monday 9/1
I flew out of Newark, with three bags. My day pack, my red backpack (from the Australia trip in the early 90's) and a sleep sac stuffed with a thermarest, my sleeping bag and other various sundries.

Some back story... I met Bill on the internet in 2007 at the dialysis support site IHD. He was a dialysis veteran 20+ years, and I was just starting. I immediately fell for his writing style. He is also an inveterate traveler and writer. Calling it a crush would be an understatement. But life is complicated.

I'd been to Seattle a couple of times in the past two years. My friend Denise is a nurse from Washington state. She was living in Seattle, and it was great to finally go out there, see her and meet Bill. On my last trip to Seattle, Bill & I spent a day walking around Mt. Rainer and it was wonderful. I was imagining that Burning Man would be the same.

But a lot happens in a year. We were facing this road trip with no expectations. Since the Mt. Rainer trip, I had a kidney transplant, five months later, I stopped writing about CKD advocacy and pulled my bio from Bill's blog. It was time, I didn't fit in anymore. And no matter how much fun I had with Bill when he first started the blog and no matter how much I had invested in it emotionally, it was not mine to be invested in. (more on that another time)

My flight to St. Louis was perfect. At the airport I stopped at Wolgang Puck Pizza Express, got a G&T and a pizza, then boarded my final leg to Seattle. My flight was early. I texted Bill from the tarmac, got my bags, and soon enough, he and Cairny pulled up to the curb. I threw my bags in the Subaru, and we drove off to West Seattle.

That night, for the first time, I sat and watched Bill set up for dialysis in person (having watched the video countless times), then I said good night and went off to bed, leaving him to sleep in his chair, while the machine cleansed his blood for the next 8 hours.

I had a nightmare that night and woke to hear Cairny fast asleep, but twitching (as dogs do) in the bedroom. I was groggy and disoriented as I heard the alarm go off on Bill's machine. My head hurt and I climbed out of bed and went to get an aspirin. When I peeked into the dialysis room, there was the glow of the computer, and I thought Bill was awake, so I stood in the doorway like a spectre and asked if he was ok. I scared the hell out of him. He had been fast asleep. That was the first of many surprises on the trip to Burning Man.

Tuesday 9/2
The next morning, I apologized, he accepted and then he had a phone interview with Salon.com. So, I walked to Bakery Nouveau and to check out West Seattle on foot. It is a great neighborhood, and people are so nice. Definitely NOT NYC. The bakery had some amazing goat cheese and mushroom quiche, I had a mocha, grabbed a scone for Bill and headed back to his place. I only got a little lost - which for me is amazing.

When Bill finished his interview, we started preparing for the trip. Bikes, u-haul, firewood, Home Depot, Food, booze... lots of errands to run. I put together the fire-pit, swept the front porch, and all the cleaning and loading the u-haul (the sofa we took came from the front porch - my project was to scrape years of dust off it - just to have the dust replaced in the desert days later...)

We went to Mark & Debbie's for dinner that night. After a quick attempt at cleaning myself up (I didn't have time for a shower) we went to their beautiful house. It is at the end of a dead end street and overlooks the ocean at sunset, the view was breathtaking. Debbie is Bill's best friend, and they have a relationship that is amazing. Just that past Sunday they had gone on a day trip to the mountains to celebrate Bill's 46th Birthday. It was just Bill, Debbie and the dogs and Bill described it as the perfect day. Mark (Debbie's husband) and I sat and listened as Bill & Debbie recounted their hike and they talked about trips past and future. It was a lovely meal, hearing happy stories, watching an amazing sunset.

Wednesday 9/3
Bill dialyzed, I slept, and was up early (thank you jet lag). We ran some errands, walked Cairny in Dragonfly Park (an amazing little park in the industrial section of West Seattle), then brought Cairny to Debbie's to drop him off. Good-byes were said, and soon enough we were back to hitch up the trailer (after redistributing the load) and we were on the road. Bill ran in for some coffee @ Diva's, we have goodies from the bakery... next stop Klamath falls. The trailer & car were fully loaded.

It was a typical road trip drive. We played the "How far is that?" game (I lost - repeatedly). We saw some breathtaking scenery - driving through the cascades. The i-pod gave us a sound track, and mother nature gave us some surprises. The first was a huge fire that was burning in some fields in Oregon. We oohed and awwed, and then thought of Karol and the wildfires in Southern California. I wondered about the towering cloud of smoke - was this a sign? After all, we were on our way to Burning Man. We got to the hotel, unpacked the NxStage and Bill set it up. We had sandwiches from Bakery Nouveau, stopped at the hotel bar for a quick drink, and then it was time for Bill to dialyize, and me to sleep.

Thursday 9/4
An early start, a nice crisp morning, coffee, loaded up the NxStage, showered and loaded the car, now we are going to have our last "Electric Breakfast" for a few days. I'm going for the waffles!! ( I actually went for the corned beef hash and scrambled eggs...)

We drove through Portland yesterday, and it was just as Bill explained, it is a little Jewel of a city. Some great architecture, fun modern buildings and a funky mini suspension bridge. Then we drove through the Cascades, and my jaw dropped. I had forgotten just how beautiful nature can be.

We've taken some pictures, and as soon as we get settled, there will be some uploading. (providing that the wifi cloud at Burning Man is working)

The long and winding road to Burning Man...

We drove through some desolate areas. No houses, no power lines. I saw my first tumbleweed. We stopped to get ice in Altruas (and resisted the free puppies on offer on the community bulletin board) As it was a road trip, I got a Mountain Dew. In the 80's Mountain Dew was the energy drink of choice - way before red bull...

And we hit the mountains. And we saw other burners on their way to the desert. In our final descent from the mountains into the desert, I got my first taste of the Black Rock Desert. (I will be tasting the desert for a very long time).

We stopped in Gerlach for gas (the cheapest of the trip) stopped at a temporary mall camp for Burners and had some fried spring rolls for lunch, then I had my first stop at a desert porta potty. (Bill has amazing patience for my Urinatior habits)

As we turned down the access road to the Playa, we saw a cloud of dust. And as we drove closer to the entrance, we were surrounded by dust and it was a "tanout" (If a snowstorm gives a "whiteout", and a NYC power loss is a "blackout", then a dust storm must be a "tanout" - that is pure Anna logic at its finest!)

Bill, having read the e-mailed instructions - drove into the wall of dust with complete faith that we would end up at the place we were supposed to be. He was right. We did.
When we got back in line to go through the check in/welcome/vehicle search, I was pulled out of the car by a bare chested "Greeter" having been identified as a Burning Man Virgin (gee thanks Bill), I was brought to a big brass bell, suspended on a structure and told to lay on my back and make a Playa Angel in the dust, and them ring the bell while screaming "I am no longer a virgin" - well duh, I am no longer a virgin (but it was so nice to be called one...) The bare chested hunky guy hugged me. (no complaints here) and then I was brought back to the car. Bill was given a quick rundown of where the quieter spots were (around 8:00 on the grid) and we headed off to find our campsite.

Friday 9/4

Our first night was LOUD. We walked around the city in the morning - Bill stopped to post at a wifi hotspot @ the intersection of 9:00 and Biodiversity, we then walked on, gasping at the line waiting to buy ice, (not by the length, but by the variety) stopping for lemon-aid at center camp, and then on to see displays surrounding the Man. Some Art Cars, the MOM installation and an amazing art piece on Perspective where we got to speak to the artist, who came from Bristol England. Then we were drawn to the Stainless Steele Rocketship - it was like a magnet calling out to us. The irate man who was guarding the launch pad was in the middle of job burn out, and we got a front row seat as he barked at various people to "Get the F**ck off the Rocket" and "We're gonna launch this at 10:00 tonight - we were intrigued, this was not a rocket to be launched. Our curiosity was piqued, and we decided to return that evening.

Around 9:00 Bill & I made our way to the center ring of the city that the Rocket would launch from. We waited, and waited, and watched the crowd swell, and there was so much. a parade of flame spewing vehicles, a parade of "Little Black Dresses" (male and female models - there had been an earlier fashion show) and an eccentric parade of art cars and people. We decided to circumnavigate the center ring of the city, and as we walked, and avoided dropped bicycles, drunken revelers and "Dark Wads" (I was a Dark Wad - anyone who is not wearing neon - a very nice man stopped me, and gave me a necklace, so that I would fit in. (and maybe not be hit by a car or a bicycle). It was while we were working our way through the crowd, we saw the most amazing sight. An articulated city bus that had modified to be a party bus. I have never seen anything like it, and I live in NYC!

Here is a daytime video of the bus http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpSx49NCfSU

Sunday 9/6
(click on photo for a panorama of our camp)
An amazing time, and we have many pictures but Burning Man was really off the grid for us. We had ventured out to walk around the camp and find a wifi signal. Bill's last update was done while we were sitting in Camp Singularity - a camp for open discussion, where people met and a topic was spoken on, and the audience participated in a "salon". We stumbled across it not in use and it was a quiet, shaded place near the wifi hotspot of section 9:00. After that post, we were unplugged for the rest of our stay at Black Rock City.

We are now back at the hotel in Klamath Falls, having left Saturday afternoon. Friday night was an amazing, exhausting night, but there had been terrible wind/dust in the night and by the afternoon on Saturday, the wind was gusting up to 40 MPH, and we made the decision to hit the road, rather than be a part of the mass exodus on Sunday morning. I'll admit it, "radical self reliance" for me, from now on will always include a shower. We tried a "bottle mister" shower on Sat am, although refreshing, the layers of dust still made my hair prematurely white and rather like I had some bizarre clay styling gel in it. The hotel has an indoor pool, and a sauna. That and a cheeseburger was our goal on Saturday night.

Bill has been amazing doing all of the driving. It was a sold 4-5 hour drive on Saturday, and I felt really bad that he was doing all the driving and that he may be exhausted, so I offered to drive. His reply "Well, that will definitely keep me awake." - He had declared back in LA in the Spring, that I am "not allowed to drive in Seattle." When we were driving around the day after we went to the RSN play "Who Lives" I may have run a stop sign or two - geesh... and maybe I cut a few people off... My friends & family are laughing and nodding their heads as they read this in admiration of Bill's self preservation.

We'll fill in the blanks and upload lots of pictures, it really was an amazing time for me, and an interesting look for Bill, having now seen such change. He was lauded as being one of the early "Burners". Some of our camp neighbors came to visit, share some food or drinks that they brought and hear about what Burning man was like back in the day. And for me, I am no longer a "Burning Man Virgin" - even though we didn't watch the man burn in person (we streamed it live from the comfort of the hotel).

Earlier, I pondered "if I didn't see the man burn, does that mean that I am still a Burning Man virgin? - was it like I only got to Burning Man third base?" As we were driving through the desert through the dust and wind to the "Default World" of highways, hotels and cell phones, Bill had a great answer "Nope, you made it all the way, there just wasn't any protection - @ Burning Man, an RV would have been the protection."

So, in the next few days, we will upload a lot of pictures, fill in a lot of blanks to describe what we saw, did and experienced. But for right now, it is all about washing off the layers of Black Rock City Playa dust & sunscreen. Today, there will be sauna, swimming, restaurant food, and then an 8 - 9 hour drive back to Seattle.

Thursday 9/10
I am back in NYC. On our last morning on the Playa, Bill woke me up to see the sunrise from the tent - seeing the glow of the sun lighting the desert from the tent window (I was too exhausted to climb out of bed) - well, that is one of the sights that I will carry with me in my memories forever.

Just a couple of things that I can say I have learned:

• Some new vocabulary - I will forever be chasing MOOP;
• Bill Peckham cooks an amazing breakfast with a frypan and a camp stove;
• A Gin & Tonic really is the perfect drink for a hot desert afternoon;
• Dialysate Boxes can be used as a platform, a storage box, and a solar oven
  

and sometimes, it is good just to sit and do nothing, to just be. No agenda, no puttering, no planning. Just sit and enjoy the moment.

Northern Ireland

I was born an American Citizen. Genetically, a New England Yankee... but there are very few places that I have even felt so at home as when I pulled into the drive of the Marlborough House for the first time in Down Patrick, Northern Ireland. The Georgian house had been in the family since the 18th century, and is still a working farm. Lise and her sister Joan had befriended me on one of their trips to the States, and after a fun jaunt in NYC, I was invited to visit them for the first of what turned to many trips to Northern Ireland. I spent quite a few weekends there. My last trip was during the Christmas/New Year's Holiday, memories of a house party, screening Chaplin films in the front hall, and the 12 foot Christmas tree, dominating the hall, welcoming everyone. I may have even chased Stephen Mercer under the dining room table, but that is his story to deny.

Being horse mad, I lived for the weekends when I could board a plane from Boston to London, jump on a British Midlands flight to Belfast, Northern Ireland (changing into riding breeches en route) landing and heading straight to the stables, where Sarge, a giant dapple gray gelding was waiting to carry me through the woods. After a few hours riding Sarge, I would head back to the house, and collapse in a beautiful brocaded bedroom with a 200 year old armoire to hang my clothes in. It was staggering to think that the armoire was made just a few years after the Declaration of Independence was signed. It is one thing to read about history, and totally another to be hanging your shirts & skirts in an everyday piece of furniture from that same era in time.

These were some of my first solo international trips, and it was during the "Troubles" when Ireland was divided and bombs were going off. It was common practice for us to be stopped and a soldier with an automatic rifle would ask for our papers (more often than not, we were in a car with British plates). On one trip to Dublin we had to cross a military border that I would only see the likes of again in the former Soviet Union. We drove up and down the country, to Dublin to visit friends and see Grafton Street, to the Belleek factory, and to a fortuneteller who lived in a house with a thatched roof. She read our tea leaves. There were no earth-shattering revelations in my reading. But then again, nothing about my life has been earth shattering. We smiled, paid our 5 pounds and hopped in the car to speed off to our next destination.

Driving up and down the highways of Ireland was a fun, exciting time. We stopped for dinner once at Lusty Beg Island. A rustic hideaway that I'd love to revisit when I am in love. Dinner there, in the candlelight is, to me, one of the most romantic places on earth.

It was that final Christmas trip that put an abrupt end to my visits. The Napiers are a family full of life and love, and the whole family welcomed me with open arms. On my last morning, we woke before dawn, my bags were in the hall, and Joan saw a mouse scurry into the kitchen. We woke up Johnny who was 18. He groggily grabbed a cricket bat and killed the mouse. Then, barefoot and bare chested, he took the body of the offending creature and disposed of it outside. He was our hero that morning - he was pretty heroic every morning for that matter. A week later he was dead. A sudden heart virus, I think. One day, he was in the peak of health and a week later, the house that was once filled with raucous laughter became a house of mourning. I couldn't bear it. Death had been stalking me all of my life, stealing away my mother, then my grandfather. I had just started picking up the pieces of my shattered childhood, only to have Johnny's death remind me that death will strike anyone at any time. His death still makes me cry today, twenty years later. I couldn't go back after that.

Someday, I'll visit Ireland again, to see old see friends and explore the Western Coast. Sarge is long gone now and my horse mad days are behind me. But I can still hear the thumping of his gallop as we raced through the woods of County Down. And I can still see Johnny's sleepy face as he slays the mouse that made the girls scream.

Paris for the first time

TWA spoiled me, and taught me the importance of the bump. I was off to Paris for Thanksgiving, to meet my friends Tara and Denise on their first trip to Europe. As I had frequent flyer points on TWA, I took a later flight. And when they asked for volunteers - I ran right up to the counter. I was moved to a flight three hours later, and I was bumped to first class. That trip spoiled me for life. From then on, it was to be all about the upgrades.

I landed at CDG in the early morning, this was before renovations, and Charles De Gaulle looked like a giant sci-fi hamster habitat. I loved the strangeness of it. The people in African dress in the terminal, and the dogs. I followed a family leading a Weimeraner through the terminal. I missed my dog. I think that she would have wagged her stub of a tail wildly if she had lived to know how much I missed her.

I then hopped on the bus to the Arc de Triomphe. Where I had time for a coffee and croissant the very kind waiter saw me as a wide eyed American with bad French and sat me with a well dressed businessman who put down his paper, and chatted with me over a smooth coffee and flaky, buttery, warm croissant. We said adieu, and I started on a nice long walk in the early morning mist watching the city come alive for a Parisian workday. I walked along the river to Île de la Cité. The ironwork of the bridges, and the classic architecture had me in awe as I made my way to meet my friends. I've been to Paris many, many times (Tony had a flat in the Place des Vosges). The city is beautiful, but I have never felt at home there. Denise, Tara and I did a lot of walking at night. The light does cast a lovely glow on the city, and the food for me is second only to Italy. But that morning of my first solo walk in Paris gave me a taste of why people are so enchanted.

We ate Thanksgiving Pizza behind the Opera House (where I shuddered as Tara referred to the waiter as garcon), did some expensive shopping in the Galeries Lafayette, then headed to the train station to take the overnight train to Munich where we had arranged to meet a friend who was studying in Germany.

Munich, Germany

We took the overnight train from Paris to visit Ruthie who was studying in Stuttgart. Our final destination was Munich. I have now learned from this trip - traveling in groups of three seldom works. Denise was ready to push Tara off the train, and I was exhausted. Never before (or since) have I traveled with such malice surrounding me. I am going to chalk it up to stereotypes. I am from New England, Tara is from North Dakota, and Denise is from Washington State. Translation: I am a NE liberal, Denise is a PNW adventurer, and Tara is from the bread basket of America - the land of leisure suits, bad perms and a very America centric world view (which is why we were forced to have pizza for our Thanksgiving dinner in Paris - sigh - Tara didn't like the foreign food).

The only sane thing to do was go to sleep as soon as the train pulled out of Gard du Nord. When we crossed the border we were woken and asked to hand over our passports for inspection, then we went to sleep again. I woke up a bit disoriented to see that the clientele on the train seemed to have become more up market, business like, and I asked a new passenger - are you going to Stuttgart? He looked at me - "I came from Stuttgart, I am en route to Munich." oops - we had slept through our stop, which was fortuitous. If we kept our mouths shut, and were lucky, we would get a free ride to our final destination Munich. It worked.

We finally met Ruthie, and settled in at Ingo's apartment. (Ingo was the friend of a friend we had met while he was taking a year off and traveling the world. When Ingo landed in Boston on the final leg of his journey, Mark had picked him up at Logan Airport, Ingo had a backpack, cowboy boots and was playing his guitar - his assimilated seamlessly into our circle of friends).

Denise departed for Czechoslovakia. Ruthie, Tara, Ingo and I headed back to Ingo's apartment. The train station had an amazing bakery at its exit, and Ingo picked up some pastry for our breakfast the next morning. We took a bus for a short trip to Ingo's tidy modern apartment, decorated with pictures of his round the world odyssey. Then, he collected our passports to register us with the police (it was then that I was reminded that we were in Germany).

After we unpacked and unwound from our journey, we had that night to wander the Christmas Market at Marienplatz, the central square in Munich. It was a perfect night, fueled by mulled wine (you pay a glass deposit and go back for refill after refill). German Christmas traditions are ornate and beautiful. We walked around for a little over an hour, watched the glockenspiel strike, and then went to a candlelit dinner at the Rathskeller, where people were in their best clothing, some in formal lederhosen, and the diners could bring their well behaved canine members of the family to dinner. It was quite a sight to see a beautifully dressed couple dining by candlelight with their German Shepherd sleeping under the table. I was impressed with Germany, the evening was perfect.

The next night, we went to a friend's house for dinner. It was a lovely evening, until we went to take the train back to Ingo's apt. Ingo had been in a bad bicycle accident earlier that week, and besides dinner, our purpose of the journey was to pick up his bike. It was while we were taking the escalator down into the pristine station, that a stranger started yelling at Ingo. I was in shock, and since I don't speak German, I could not understand what her issue was. Ruthie translated. She trying to make a citizens arrest for Ingo having his bike on the subway. She felt that he needed a ticket for the bike. WWII quickly came to the forefront of my mind, and to this day clouds my memories of that trip to Germany.

It was unfortunate that the next day we took the train to visit Dachau. After passing people eating a breakfast that included tall drafts of beer, and walking a short way to the former concentration camp, now museum - I realized that this camp was in the center of town. We ate lunch around the corner at a Greek restaurant. You can't help but feel haunted as you walk silently through the town and camp. You can't help but silently cry as you walk the grounds that for so many was the last earth that they would ever walk on. You can't help but imagine the misery of lives interrupted and ended. This journey through the heart of evil sobered me, and taints my world view even now, years later.

This was the end of my vacation. I had a very troubled sleep that night, and decided to leave early the next morning on the first flight out of there. I left a note for Ingo, Ruthie and Tara, grabbed my backpack, took the bus to the train station and grabbed a taxi to the airport. That taxi ride through Munich's dawn mist was beautiful. The monuments were softened, the trees framed the view from my window like a natural picture frame. The streetlights added a glow the the breaking dawn, and in this Mercedes taxi, the driver was silent and a Mahler violin concerto played from the radio.

At the airport, I was able to get on a flight to Boston, I had a few deutschmarks to use up, so I stopped in the gift shop outside of security and bought some Wustoff steak knives. At security, there was a scene, as I was trying to bring knives in my carry on. I had just bought them 10 feet away at the gift shop. I was soooo over Germany. I was being berated, and I lost it. In one of my more regrettable moments, I called the female security screener a Nazi, and asked why the hell do you sell them in security. I was very close to getting arrested for abusing a security officer. Finally, I surrendered my backpack for the airline to check in, and I was allowed to board the plane.

I have never before or since been so happy to return home after a trip.

Nassau, Bahamas

Winters in Boston can be great, but cold. It is always nice to get away, and I did as often as possible. Denise and I needed a break. I was having a relationship crisis, and Denise was working and going to school. We bought a package deal for a long weekend at Pirates Cove, Paradise Island.

The best part about a getaway is the outings. As soon as we got to the hotel I went straight to bed. Denise, bored, went down stairs to hang out with the concierge. She grabbed brochures and talked to people and planned out itinerary for the next few days. That is what good friends do, they balance out. I was thrilled to wake up and hear what we had planned for the next two days. A submarine trip, a Robinson Crusoe day on a remote island, a snorkeling trip, and a trip to the Casino.

Paradise Island is remote from Nassau, you either take a water taxi or a regular taxi. We took a water taxi to the market, did some shopping (the fish market is amazing), and I had the bright idea to get my very long hair braided. It took hours. I looked like a baked potato. My dark red hair hugging my scalp, my round pink face with no hair to frame it, and heavy beads rattling whenever I turned my head. WHAT was I thinking?

After a light lunch (and a light mocking from Denise) we took a taxi to the Submarine. It was a great exploration in the Nautilus. And Denise really hit it off with the Captain, he was a lovely, kind man. This was to be the first (but not the last) trip where shy, quiet Denise would have an adventure of the romantic sort. But those are her stories to tell. I would be back in the hotel room, writing in my diary or to that man back home, and Denise would be taken out to dinner. And people say I am the gregarious one...

The next day, after regaling me with stories of her date over breakfast, Denise and I headed off to our Robinson Crusoe day, which involved snorkeling for champagne bottles, and conch then rest and relaxation on a private island while a beach picnic sunset dinner was prepared. This is where I found out that if you lie down in a rope hammock with braided, beaded hair, you need help getting out, because the beads get caught in the knots of the hammock.

That night in the hotel room, the scissors came out and $40.00 was lost to silly notions, which was seconded that night when money flew out of my wallet and into the Casino - never to be seen again.

The next morning, we flew back to the frozen January that was Boston, with stories to tell, and a slight sunburn. Nassau is a great getaway.

Scotland

There is no way that I could ever quantify my love for London, it is infinite. I love the Belgravia B&B's that line Ebury Street behind Victoria Coach Station. Paddington Station takes my breath away. I fantasize about walking hand in hand along Bayswater Road on a Sunday morning looking at the artists' displays. And when I die, I want part of my ashes dumped in the Round Pond at Kensington Palace. (It won't be the first time I ended up in that pond, but it will be the last.) But this isn't a post about London.

In 1995, I was lost and wandering. I knew where I didn't want to be, but everything else was up for grabs. I was single (which for me was a novelty) and I needed adventure to heal a broken heart. For me that summer, the adventure started with a month's unlimited travel National Express Coach Ticket. First stop Edinburgh. I was good with bus travel. I cut my teeth on the Belfast to Boston Greyhound trip. I could put on my discman and look out the window watching the motorway signs, and time just flew by. I met two au Pairs, one German, and one Austrian. And, as I had a tent and a driving license and credit card, we decided to take a few days, split the cost, rent a car and drive around Scotland.

Our first night was at a hotel in Edinburgh. Then, early the next morning we set out in the direction of Ben Nevis and the Isle of Skye. The Scottish Country side is made up of beautiful hills, very few trees and many distilleries. We decided to stop at leisure to do distillery tours. It was amazing - I wasn't a whisky fan, but I became a fan of Single Malt on that trip. Our second night was at a campground on the shores of Loch Lomand (yes, I sang the song while driving - for the record, we took the low road). When we drove by Loch Ness, Nessie was nowhere to be found. Then we were on to Mallig and the ferry to Skye.

We stopped at a sporting goods store in Fort William, and I bought a sleeping bag. Packing a tent and not packing a sleeping bag - one of the stupidest moves of my life. I ended up sleeping in the car when we were at the campground.

Skye was dark, rustic and beautiful. We stayed at a youth hostel overnight. Then we were off to the highlands, stopping at the most famous modern castle in the world, Eilean Donan Castle. It is beautiful, modern and made to look ancient surrounded by a loch (lake) As we toured the castle, I was very angry with Hollywood for making me think that the castle was ancient. It was still great to walk over the causeway.

We drove on to Culloden, and gave some thought to Bonnie Prince Charlie, then looked to the left and saw the Roman viaduct - I was gobsmacked. In Scotland, your history books are in the fields and bridges all around you (not to mention a few Harry Potter shooting locations).

We drove on to Stirling, where we checked out Stirling Castle, were in awe of the view of the valley below us, then went down to the youth hostel, signed in, grabbed a quick Indian takeaway and then fortuitously went to a screening of Rob Roy.

The next day, we drove down to Perth, hit some distilleries along the way, and checked into a B&B for the night. (Camping was a wash - Scotland in June is COLD at night) On our final day with the car, we wandered. And found our way to Glamis Castle. Now, Glamis is a CASTLE. I love it. I love the Shakespeare connection, I love the haunted chapel, and I love the stone work. I could easily live there. Yes, even now, I go on their web site and look at the rooms. It was a great way to end an ad-hoc driving tour of Scotland. I was happy, my companions were happy (we saw so much more with a car). All in all it was a memorable trip. I spent my last night in Edinburgh at a Hostel, hanging out, drinking and playing darts with other wanderers. The next morning I grabbed my backpack and hopped on a coach to Liverpool.

Liverpool to find the Beatles (they left years ago....or did they?)

Nation Express coach Scotland to to Liverpool. Easy, listing to music all along the way. I booked for two nights into the Embassie Hostel a converted Georgian mansion with home made bunk beds, and a friendly staff. It was cheap and a great bohemian landing pad for my exploration of Liverpool.

First Stop, the docks. Albert Docks, where I signed up to take the Magical Mystery Tour. A colorful bus that took me all around the sights of Liverpool. Strawberry Fields, John Lennon's Auntie's House, Paul McCartney's childhood home. The Liverpool College of Art, and a stop at the original site of the Cavern Club, and finally, the new Cavern Club gift shop.

What can I say? Going to Liverpool for me was like a Muslim making the hajj to Mecca. Everything was so familiar - yet foreign. How did this seaside working class town incubate the talent that spoke to my soul? I guess it was just fate that intervened.

The Hostel was fun, and run by a musician Kevin. I went to a party over a club on the Friday night, and met some rather interesting people - young backpackers, older drug dealers, musicians and footballers. I remember settling in on a long red velvet banquette and just watching people dance through the haze, and thinking to myself, "How did I get from Monroe, Maine to a party in Liverpool?" At around 4am we staggered back to the Embassie, and got a bit of sleep. The next day I was off to the coach station - next stop - Stratford-upon-Avon. I wanted to see if Shakespeare was still around.