Is That Slow Travel or Old Travel?

Growing Old With Travel

Faithful readers may remember our ill fated trip to Scandinavia and the Baltics which included eleven flights,  13 separate lodgings and four cases of pneumonia (2 each).  Upon reflection, we decided that perhaps we should modify our travel modalities before we killed ourselves.  We consoled ourselves that this wasn't really "old" travel but rather the more worldly "slow" travel so often touted by travel sages.  Our introduction into "slow" travel was the adoption of wheel chairs in airports.  Years ago when Michael's knee went he got a wheel chair.  The chair pusher would race through the airport (they work for tips a lot) and I would jog after them panting and pleading with them to slow down to no avail.  I gave up and got a chair too.  It wasn't just that we were getting old and creaky but every major airport has felt obligated to drop the equivalent of a suburban mall in the center of their airports thus doubling (at least) the distance to any gate.  So, that was the first concession.

We decided that flitting from city to city with little to no control over our schedule really wasn't doing it for us.  You're sick?  Too bad.  You're tired? Too bad.  Your travel mates are hideous?  Too bad. So, our next decision was that we would find a location that we liked with lots to do within a couple of hours, rent a house, lease a car and stay put (at least house wise, for a number of weeks).  Our third decision was that we had to minimize the number of flights due to the horrendous experience air flight has become.   So one stop over max.

Armed with our new set of resolutions we began our journey to the Dordogne region of France.  We flew to Dallas and visited with Michael's sister and her husband for a couple of days and then took a direct flight to Paris (see one stop rule).  We picked up our lease car (not a rental and a great deal) and headed to Tours where we'd spend the night and then off to the house that was to be our base for five weeks.

We've been to the Dordogne (also known as the Perigord) several times of varying duration and think it is probably the most pretty and interesting region of France.  So we decided to play it safe on our first "long stay" in a place we knew we'd enjoy.

The house was wonderful -- which is important if you're going to be there for weeks.  Michael's pictures will tell the tale.  Our neighbors were the best.  Sheep are really underrated as neighbors.  They are quiet, provide ambience and show you copious love if you come to their fence with a stale, rock hard baguette.  Our other neighbors were Sigrid and Jean-Paul who own the house we rented and live next door. Other than that nothing but quiet and stunning views.

Two views of the house and covered back terrace with dining table and the heated pool (usually covered because of the cool weather).

The sheep would come running when they saw us, and were initially wary about approaching us.

Even mama and her two little lambs came running as well.

In the beginning we would have to throw the bread over the fence to the sheep...

and after a period of time they would take the bread from our hand.

In keeping with the theme of global warming our stay featured totally bizarre weather.  Normally in May and early June temps are 70 degrees to 80 degrees fahrenheit and usually not that much rain.  In our five weeks we had: 1) four really nice days; 2) twenty-seven days that were in the low to mid 60s with clouds and or rain and; 3) a stretch of four days with temps in the highest 90s approaching 100.  We still had a good time but even the heated pool wasn't too tempting.  Our hostess was funny.  She said: "Oh, you're not using the pool.  Oh, you're from Mexico.  The Irish will swim in anything.  Brits too."

This Eurasian Magpie is eyeing the remains of a flower blossom on the pool cover...

and decides it will make a tasty morsel after all.

At the end or our  five weeks (we decided that was a little long because it ended up more like 6-7 weeks if we stop to visit folks), we retraced our steps to Paris and grabbed a non stop flight from Paris to Los Angles to spend a few days with our sons.  We had fun and caught up and then faced the final challenge of returning to Guadalajara in the midst of the World Cup occurring both in LA and Guadalajara.  Luckily our flight schedules avoided the worst of it.

Normally we construct our blogs in a chronological manner but this time we think we will do it in"chunks" based on subject -- bastide towns, chateaus, etc.  This may not work out perfectly but we'll just throw in the stray uncategorizable photos and you can figure it out.  It will be fun.

The area is known for its vineyards, but we also saw many fields of spring wheat.

And yes there were more vineyards than we could count with all the vines in nice neat rows...

sometimes seeming to stretch all the way to the horizon.

The Dordogne is also known for its walnuts. In the lower left is a walnut grove and in the center a vineyard.

The Lethality of Lobsters

 More Airport Fun

We were off on a dual mission: a memorial service in Portland Oregon and a visit with the sons in Los Angeles.  We arrived at the airport ready to confront the rigors of travel in today's world -- or so we thought.  Things progressed well until Security.  I saw my carry-on plucked from the belt and my mind raced trying to isolate what might have caught their eagle like eyes.

A woman fairly cackled with glee as she extracted a small box from my bag.  I groaned.  She opened the box and stared with incomprehension at its contents.  She called a supervisor who was equally baffled but more stern in appearance.  Now I whipped into action and explained in Spanish that what they saw were the implements needed to eat lobsters -- which really don't exist in true lobster form in Mexico.  I explained that they were for a celebratory dinner with our sons.  They pulled them out of the box, held them to the light, mimicked cracking  a hand with the claw cracker and I knew I was done for.  Obviously I, a 77 year old,  half-blind woman would extract my terrorist lobster tools mid-flight and charge the cockpit, poke out the eyes of the pilot with tiny lobster forks and break the hands of the co-pilot with the claw cracker rendering him/her unable to land the plane.  It was such a transparent plot....

The offending tools and their box.

I was unwilling to give up my lobster gear so simply since it held emotional ties for me.  So, back through security back to the check in counter to pay $100 to check the bag and everything would be OK.  Except we got there 56 minutes before the flight and they refused to accept any bags after an hour before take-off.  Now what?  I was fussing and another employee (not a Volaris employee of course) said she would take them to their office and we could pick them up when we got back to town.  I turned them over with only a slight hope we would ever see them again.  But we did!  Our driver Christopher was on an airport run and dropped in and reclaimed them.  Mexicans can be wonderful.  Airlines are never wonderful.  Each flight it gets worse but don't get me started -- oh, I already have.  Sorry.

Fowler Funerals Are Fabulous

I know it sounds rather disrespectful but they really ARE fun.  I attended my first when we were still newlyweds.  It was in Vermillion South Dakota for Michael's maternal grandma.  As we packed I noticed him throwing in swim trunks and assorted casual wear.  I was packing black with a little grey.

" What are you doing?  That's not appropriate" I said in my best Episcopalian voice. "You don't know my family yet," said Michael.  As we arrived a touch football game was going on in the back yard with poker running strong in the basement.  Immediately post funeral we were off to waterski.  Well you get the idea.  So now, Michael's first cousin Bill Washburn had passed and the whole clan convened.

We swarmed The Kennedy School Hotel in Portland which was really a school once and now boasted many, many unique features including their own in-house brewery.  Let the party begin....  Michael's pictures will give you a feel for the hotel.

A welcome sign at the entrance.

The Boiler Room Bar was one of the more interesting aspects of the conversion from a school to a hotel. The old school boiler room is now a bar.

These gauges were on display on the wall outside the bar...

as well as these paintings depicitng the piping and gauges,...

as well as a painting depicitng the old boiler room.

Once inside the two level structure, the adaptation of an old boiler room to a bar in a very creative way is obvious, along with interesting paintings, posters and sculptures as can be seen in the following photos.

The walls were adorned with interesting art pieces and old photos,...

like this old photo of four girls in their bloomers...

and the last school yearbook. 

There was a mural on the wall depicting the school in the early years after its opening in 1915. The school was named after John Daniel Kennedy, who sold the land for the school in 1913.

There was other interesting art...

and historical photos of the school.

Much of the art work is reputed to have come from alumni of the school.

Even this skylight had interesting tiles.

In addition to the restaurant and brewery, there are multiple bars, a movie theater, soaking pool, gift shop and gardens.

This photo shows the final day of school in 1975 when the school was closed. On October 22, 1997 at 7:00 am the first and original bell of the principal was rung for the opening of McMenamin's Kennedy School Hotel. All 57 rooms of the hotel are converted classrooms, some with original chalkboards and cloakrooms. Each room has a unique name.

We were really lucky to get to Portland just as the Cherry Blossoms were in bloom.  Japan had gifted the city with 120 cherry trees which were planted along the promenade on the Willamette River.  But there were many, many more trees throughout the town.

We walked through these colonnades of old Portland...

which were part of the New Market Block dating from 1872.

This photo shows the contrast between the old Portland and a high rise building of the new Portland. 

These three colonnades from 1872 were rescued when the North Wing was demolished and restored by Portland Friends of Cast Iron Architecture.

With the cherry blossoms in full bloom, these Japanese women came out to admire them in their kimonos.

This pitbull took advantage of a refreshing drink at the fountain.

The Hawthorne Bridge, opened in 1910, is the oldest vertical lift bridge still in operation in the US. The 244 foot vertical lift span is raised by 888,000 pound counterweights suspended from two 165 foot tall towers. When raised there is 165 feet above the bridge deck for ships to pass.

As we walked back from viewing the cherry blossoms we passed several establishments, such as Madame Cooper's Parlor. It is touted as Portland's newest burlesque bar specializing in "honky tonk" burlesque.

Then we passed the Kit Kat Club, billed as Portland's Premier Gentleman's Club.

However the most amazing was the Voodoo Doughnut. Opened in 2003, it offers 40 artisan flavors, including 10 vegan choices. In 2011 a massive pink box was filled with 3,880 doughnuts weighing 666 pounds for the Portland Bridge Festival. It was the world's biggest doughnut box by Guinness Book of World Records.

This old town mural is next to Voodoo, where their sign advertises open almost 24 hours. Thursday thru Saturday Voodoo is open from 6 am to 3 am. The other days the hours are from 6 am to 12 am.

Next to Voodoo is the Paris Theater, which first opened in 1890 under a different name. The roof collapsed in 2019 and was restored and reopened on November 21, 2025 as a provaocative cabaret and cocktail theater.

"street roots" provides income opportunities for people experiencing homelessness or poverty by publishing an investigative newspaper which is sold for $1 by people in need. These people keep $.75 from each sale.

Bill was an amazing photographer and the gallery where he was featured, and on whose board he served, hosted a reception for the family -- and I, as is usual, was a little taken back by its size.  Bill had thousands of photos and the family all perused them and selected some to each take home as a great reminder of Bill.  There were a few surprises like Bill's OGF file standing for Old Girl Friends -- of which there were many and some revealing photos of the photographer as self portraits.  We leave it to your imagination.

These three photos are from Bill's trip to Mexico in 1981.

Bill worked with Mexicans in the Portland construction trade and went to Mexico when they returned for the winter. 

These are just three of the many photographs which we took as a memento of Bill's photography. Living in Mexico these three really resonated with us.

We were blessed with good weather and on our last day together we went to the Columbia River to scatter Bill's ashes.  It's a wonderful, somewhat wild river that matches our Bill's profile.

Just a few photos of the spreading of Bill's ashes, which even the young ones participated in doing.

This is Juniper the most recent addition to our extended family.

In the evening we gathered with family and friends, where there was a slide show of Bill through the various phases of his life...

and a photo board with pictures of Bill, who in addition to being a photographer, was also an avid kayaker.

Two of the many friends of Bill who attended this celebration of Bill's life.

Then we were off to Los Angeles to see our sons Justin and Alex.  Alex had just completed his electrician's course -- a career he decided to pursue to avoid the AI threat and which suits him well.  Thus, the lobster dinner.  New implements were procured.  We mostly hung out, did a little shopping and picked up our Medicare drugs.  But one day we all sauntered out to the Descanso Gardens to see spring in bloom.  They advertised 35,000 tulips which were all blooming and there was a very nice Japanese Garden. The land where the gardens are located was purchased in 1937 for $125,000 by E. Manchester Boddy and named Rancho de Descanso - Ranch of Rest. He built a 22 room mansion, established the gardens and purchased an additional 440 acres north of the original property, which included mountain streams. These streams provide water for the gardens to this day. In 1952 he sold the property and Walt Disney was looking at the property for Disneyland. The La Cañada residents convince the county to buy the property to protect it from development.   The week went quickly and soon we are once again on a painful Volaris voyage-- and once again swore to never fly them again.  We'll see.

Deirdre and Alex engrossed in a television program.

Some pictures of the many spring flowers of Descanso Gardens, for those of you have not yet experienced spring, to enjoy.

In 1966 the Japanese Garden was added to Descanso Gardens.

One of the stranger things we experienced on this trip was this robotic food server at Flavor of India Restaurant in Burbank.

When it was not carrying food to be served it retreated to this location.

So now we are off to France in a few weeks.  We'll try to blog from the road.  It should be mid-spring in the Dordogne so Michael's photo taking should be in full swing.  Enjoy spring and try not to contemplate the fate of the country.