Author Archives: coxdavid55

Report on Delphi, Osios Loukas, Acropolis & Athens, Greece Oct. 19, 2015

My last day in Meteora, the other-worldly site of 14th century monasteries perched upon the rock pillars, I hiked up a short canyon around the base of several pillars to view ruins of some old monastic dwellings in caves, including what are referred to as hermitages. Some of the rock pillars have small caves, alcoves and cracks into the rock face, ranging from 40 to over a hundred feet up the pillar’s wall. Within a number of these openings, religious hermits constructed wooden platforms and railings, often on multiple levels connected by rickety ladders; they apparently lived out their lives here partially exposed to the elements (see photo below). I took also one last panoramic photo (actually a composite of over 60 photos) of the Meteora from the south with Kastraki in the valley below; two monateries are visible perched upon high pinacles, but appear tiny in the photo.

On Saturday 9 days ago I traveled from Kalambaka by bus to Delphi, site of the Sacred Sanctuary Precinct of the Oracle of archaic and classical Greece. The travel, although not far in distance, occupied much of the day as I had to board 4 different buses to make the journey. The modern town of Delphi, which exists solely to provide tourist services to those who visit, consists of several parallel streets running around the edge of a steep mountainside, one above the other, overlooking a deep olive grove filled valley with the Bay of Corinth to the southwest. Nice view from my hotel balcony.

Just around the corner of the mountain to the east, on a steep slope under the western end of the rocky ridge that rises into Mt Parnassus, lies the Sacred Precinct of Delphi. From the late Bronze Age through the early Roman-Greco period, this was a most sacred place where people came to seek prophesies and advice concerning all manner of life questions, from whether engaging in war would destroy an empire to prospects for successful marriages. These prophesies, rendered by priests and conveyed to the seekers in metered rhyme, first were interpreted from the ravings of the sibyl or priestess, known as the Pythia, an elderly, “blameless” woman who sat over an opening in the earth within the Temple of Apollo, breathing rising fumes of perhaps ethylene or burning oleander (either somewhat toxic and probably producing trances). Delphi also was the site, every four years, of the Pythian Games, archaic period predecessor to the Panathenaic Games at Olympia and, much later, the modern Olympics.

For the Oracle and the Pythian Games, the Sacred Precinct was filled with temples, sanctuaries, treasuries, theaters, stadiums and monuments, constructed by the powerful city-states and surrounding kingdoms of the time. Though much of the site itself now is not much more than foundations, having suffered through a number of huge earthquakes, sackings and fires, the site museum contains some remarkable finds – to my eye the most spectacular the three restored life-size chryselephantine statues, produced in the late Archaic Period (6th-5th C BC), found in the “Repositories” in front of the Stoa of the Athenians. The adjective “chryselephantine” derives from the Greek words for gold and ivory, and so denotes objects made of gold and ivory. Chryselephantine statues of people or gods were carved wooden bodies completely covered with gold, except for all exposed “skin” parts which were carved of ivory (the face, arms, hands and feet). See my pictures of the two outstanding chryselephantine statues’ heads – the ivory faces somewhat blackened from the offering fire with which they were buried millennia ago. Also see the bronze “Charioteer”, from the Archaic-Classical boundary around 480 BC, the first and perhaps the most famous of the handful of great life-size Classical bronzes ever found. It was preserved intact in a deep burial resulting from an earthquake in 373 BC, though almost all of the attached bronze chariot and horses were looted millennia ago. Finally see the marble statue of the Sphinx, which the powerful kingdom of the island of Naxos offered to Delphi around 560 BC during the Archaic Period, sitting atop a 40 foot pillar.

From Delphi I made a day trip by taxi to the Byzantine Monastery of Osios Loukas, built in the 11th century. The larger of the two Monastery churches, the Katholikon, is famed for its well-preserved Byzantine mosaics, considered by many the best in all of Greece. The Monastery, unlike those at Meteora, sits on the side of a low mountain overlooking a green valley. I have included several photos of the mosaics, most of which are within concave curved surfaces giving them a special dimensionality. Within the crypt under the church are a number of well-preserved frescoes, particularly on the ceiling.

On Wednesday last I traveled from Delphi to Athens – exactly 4 weeks to the day after arrival in Greece, I finally arrive in its main city. I am ensconced in a fine little hotel called the Acropolis House, known for providing mid-term stays for various students and professors of the classics; it is located in the heart of the area know as the Plaka, within walking distance of just about all of importance, including the Acropolis and Ancient Agora.

My first full day I toured the Acropolis and Agoras (Ancient & Roman), the “must-sees” for any visit to Greece. The Acropolis, for those who have not visited, is a rocky hill rising straight up sheer cliffs over 200 feet above the level of the surrounding ancient city of Athens. The top is approximately flat, mesa-like, about 1000 feet long and half as wide. Below the cliff face of all sides the talus is covered with dirt forming sloping areas – various ruins of sanctuaries, temples, theaters and stoa occupy the lower these dirt-covered talus fields, particularly below the southern cliff face. An ancient causeway, now converted to trails and stairs, provides access to the top from the west. At the top, today, survive just four Classic Period Greek structures, set among older foundational ruins. One enters through the great pillars and halls of the Propylaia on the western end. It shelters and hides the very small but beautiful Temple of Athena Nike which sits right on the southwestern corner over the cliff-face. On the northern side of the Acropolis sits the Erechtheion and its famous Porch of the Caryatids. Finally, at the center south, and the highest point, towers the monumental Parthenon, much larger than the presentation provided by pictures.

Unfortunately and, to my mind, obscenely, practically the entirety of the views of the Propylaia, the Temple of Athena Nike and the Parthenon are marred by scaffolding, work-crews, canvas and giant cranes. Further, on the southern approach, the Sanctuary and the Temple of Asclepion, the Stoa of Eumenes II and the Theater of Herodus Atticus and its entire stage are roped off with scaffolding and work equipment. I understand some reconstruction and repair work was initiated to be completed in time for the 2004 Olympic Games held in Athens; that work apparently has now been ongoing continuously for 15 years, with expectations it may go on for that much longer into the future. Restoration and consolidation work on the world’s great monuments is necessary and understandable – but ordinarily this is done on small segments at a time so as not to mar the entirety of a World Heritage site for decades. I suppose the economic crisis has resulted both in reduced government funding available at the same time the government is trying to employ more for public works. By my calculation, the only photos in existence of the entire Parthenon, unblemished by scaffolding and cranes, are photos taken on film – no digital photos of a clean Parthenon exist. Still, for all my complaining, the overall impression of the towering structure is exhilarating.

In ancient time, the eastern, larger, chamber of the Parthenon served as a Temple to Athena, and contained a 40 foot chryselephantine statue of the Goddess known as the Athena Parthenos. The gold used to cover the statue was recorded to weigh 2,400 lbs. (in round numbers worth about $50,000,000 today), and accounted for a substantial portion of Athens’ Treasury, which was housed in the smaller chamber at the west end of the Parthenon. The statue was constructed around 447 BC, but had its gold removed around 390 BC in order to be able to afford to pay troops (the statue thereafter covered with gold-covered bronze plates). Over a millennium later the statue apparently was moved to Constantinople, but since has disappeared.

The much smaller structure called the Erechtheion, to the north, is the only building now without reconstruction obscuring its beauty. The east and west ends have the roof supported by Ionic columns. On the southwestern side is a lower porch extending out from the building with its roof famously supported by six statues of women known as the Caryatids; the original statues now are displayed in the nearby wonderful Museum of the Acropolis – see the included photo. The Museum also displays remaining fragments of the pediments, metopes and friezes of the Parthenon, the sculptured architectural details at both ends and around the roof edges of the building. The frieze, which extended around all four sides of the inner structure, was 524 feet long, and the entirety displayed a massive procession, perhaps the Panathenaic Procession, starting at the southwest corner of the Parthenon and extending both directions around the building to end at the eastern entrance. Although the majority of the remaining parts of the frieze were hauled off by Lord Byron 200 years ago, and now sit in the British Museum, many of the great scenes of the horsemen are displayed in the Acropolis Museum, of which I have included sample photos.

Below the Acropolis, on the slopes of the north side, lies the Ancient Agora, or public gathering place and marketplace, of Athens, with the beautiful Temple of Hephaistus and various Stoa among other structures. The completely rebuilt Stoa of Attalos now contains the Site Museum for the objects found in the Ancient Agora, mostly funerary ceramic items from the many burials found in this area.

Yesterday I finally got to visit one of the world’s great archeological museums which I so far have missed, the National Archeological Museum of Greece. Unlike the regional and site museums I already have visited, this museum covers, of course, the entire archeological record of the ancient Greek world. Interestingly, this coverage comes to a chronological conclusion with just a relatively small collection of late Hellenistic and Roman artifacts, and no Byzantine coverage at all; those periods are considered well into the historical rather than archeological record. I spent six solid hours on my feet within the museum’s halls, and kept finding rooms I had missed. I am quite sure I still have missed much, and hurried past most, and hope to return before leaving Greece.

Among the museum highlights are – 4 life-size bronze statues of the Greek Classical Period, including a very young jockey riding a very large galloping horse, recovered from the sea from an ancient shipwreck – a huge collection of marble statues and grave markers, extraordinary pottery – and, most popular, the many finds of the famous 19th century German, Heinrich Schliemann. Schliemann was the famous pioneer who insisted the major actions and places recounted in the Iliad, the story of the Trojan War between Troy and Mycenae, were not myth but real historical references. He proceeded then to locate both Troy, near the western Dardanelles in northwest Turkey, and the 16th–12th century BC Mycenaean Capital in the Peloponnese of Greece.

A brief digression to put Greek ancient history in very rough perspective. Greece had not one, but two separate eras which saw great flowering of the arts and construction of monuments. The latter, from about 700 to 323 BC, was referred to as the Archaic and Classic Periods; these periods saw the production of the city states, democracy, the great philosophers and playwrights, along with the bronze and marble sculptures, fine ceramics and the written classics. Prior to these periods was a 400 year gap sometimes referred to as the Greek Dark Ages, during which little development and no writings are found (possibly a result of not digging in the right places). Prior to the Dark Ages, from 2500 to about 1100 BC, a millennia before Classic Greece, two great civilizations emerged and ultimately merged; first was the great Minoan civilization of Crete, followed by and ultimately merged into by the great Mycenaean civilization from the Peloponnese. From this period two forms of writing was developed, the latter of which which morphed into ancient Greek. The Mycenaean/Minoan merged civilization of the 16th through the 12th centuries BC comprised the canvas upon which the mythic heroes and gods of Greece roamed and played out their stories. During the early 12th century BC the Mycenaeans apparently fought a real war with Troy, the archeological remnants of which are present at Troy.

From excavations in the Mycenaean capital, Schliemann unearthed a mass of precious artifacts and relics, including a very large number of fantastic gold objects. See the picture of the famous death “Mask of Agamemnon”, though whose royal corpse it actually covered is unknown. My favorite Mycenaean artifact is a fragment of a bronze dagger, perhaps 5 inches long, the side inlaid with gold and silver to portray an amazing tiny and intricate scene of two felines chasing through flying ducks, running over a watery patch with fish and papyrus reed flowers. Consider that the view of attached photo on an ordinary monitor screen displays the blade at about twice life-size.

Also a museum highlight, the statue of Athena Parthenos, a marble copy (called the “Varvekeion Copy”) of the original Chryselephantine statue, which at 1 meter (1/12 size) still gives some sense of the awesome presence the original must have instilled in the Parthenon. I have included photos also of a large decorated spherical clay vase from Dimini, which astounded me by the fact it is 7,000 years old, and Cycladic (from the Island group of that name) clay vessels from the early bronze age (2800-2300 BC) called “frying pans,” a reference to their shape although their use is unknown.

I am taking a few days breather to catch up on captioning photos, and am researching how best to attack my visits to the Peloponnese and islands. Some have inquired why I include no bird and wildlife photos; for this trip I chose not to bring a heavy telephoto lens for bird shots, partially to reduce the weight I carry, but also because Europe just does not have the wealth of bird diversity found in other continents; this trip is for the archeology. The food and red wine continues to be good, and I enjoy my late afternoons sitting on my little balcony reading sci-fi and drinking the red.

Later. Dave

 

 

 

 

Travelogue Reporting on Litochoro, with Mt Olympus & Dion, & Meteora, Oct. 9, 2015

Hello again. I stayed in Thessaloniki almost a week longer than anticipated because of the loss of my wallet with 2 debit cards. It took 10 days to get both cards replaced, and a pin number for just one of them to allow for ATM withdrawals. The other pin should be available in a few days. Unbelievable – about 2 weeks, and with Ally Bank, over $200 in international phone charges, to get replacement debit cards with pins.

While extending my stay in Thessaloniki I spent a fair amount of time further visiting the Byzantine churches with frescoes and old mosaics.

On Saturday a week ago I traveled by bus from Thessaloniki to the village of Litochoro, set just a few kilometers upslope from the Aegean Sea on the eastern foothills of Mt. Olympus. Immediately above Litochoro opens the steep and awesome Epinea Gorge which splits the eastern face of Mt Olympus. On clear sunny mornings, looking west through the gorge, are the 3 main stony peaks of Mt Olympus, rising well above tree line. The more spectacular is Stefani, at just over 9,500 feet the third highest, which forms the top back of a giant bench known as the “Throne of Zeus.’ On the left side is the second highest peak, Scolio, just 6 feet higher than Stefani. Between the two aforementioned is Mytikas, the highest peak of Mt Olympus, just 30 feet higher than Stefani,. the Throne. By late morning, even on clear days, the clouds form to cover the high peaks.

Just 10 kilometers north of Litochoro is the little village of Dhion, beside which sits the ruins of ancient Dion; I took a taxi to Dion my first afternoon. Dion was first established around the 6th Century BC, next to the ancient oak grove and springs which form the Macedonian Kingdom Sanctuary of Zeus Olympus. This was a very sacred site to which all Macedonian Kings came, including Philip II and Alexander the Great, to make sacrifices before their great military exploits. The ancient city lies along a great paved causeway which runs north-south, along both sides of which lie ruins of Hellenistic, Roman Period and very early Byzantine workshops, villas and baths. The city was a major center from the mid-4th century BC to the 4th century AD. The Great Bath House and many villas contain wonderful floor mosaics. At the west wall of the city a late 4th century AD Basilica was built shortly before an earthquake destroyed the city. South of the city walls lie multiple Sanctuaries dedicated to various gods. The original site was for Zeus Olympus, but the oldest remaining ruins are the 6th century BC ruins of the Sanctuary of Demetrius. Also here are the Roman period Sanctuaries of Isis and Zeus Hypsistos. Further south of the city walls are the foundations of the Hellenistic period theater and a small Roman period theater. The site is filled with water from flooding springs and is much overgrown with tangles of raspberry bushes and great oak trees.

In the middle of the modern village of Dhion is the Dion Site Museum, small but with a delightful collection of marble statuary and cemetery markers from the ancient city and the various sanctuaries surrounding it. Here also is displayed the only remains ever found of the ancient bronze musical instrument called the hydraulus, a 1st century predecessor of the pipe organ.

The following day I hiked a few kilometers west of Litochoro up into Epinea Gorge on the trail which ultimately leads to the top of Mt Olympus. The trail was rocky and a very steep climb for an hour, but provided spectacular views up the canyon and out to the sea to the east. At several points the trail passed through very thick dark oak forest, and then would emerge climbing rocky outcroppings over the canyon.

From Litochoro I traveled on the 6th by train to Kalambaka – the first train, which I caught at the little Litochoro Beach train station, was quite new and clean, with few passengers. At one station the train took an unscheduled 15 minute break for everyone, including engineer and conductor, to get off and smoke cigarettes. At a track junction in Paleofarsalo I changed trains to a much older, dirtier and more crowded one heading west to Kalambaka. All in all, travel by train, at least for longer trips, seems far preferable to bus, as one can move around and see the sights from both sides. I think the trains are faster as well, particularly with tunnels through all the hills as opposed to winding roads. Of course, they don’t cover most of the routes I wish to take. From Kalambaka I took a taxi just the couple of kilometers to the neighboring village of Kastraki, where I am in a delightful hotel called the Doupiani House, with views of the expanse known as The Meteora.

Kalambaka sits at the southeastern base, and Kastraki the southwestern base, of “The Meteora” – an unearthly site. Along the foothills rising northward to a small mountain ridge, and encircling a couple of valleys below the ridge, rise mighty, grey rock pillars, towering hundreds of feet into the sky – sheer cliffs on all sides. Perched on the sides or tops of some of the pillars are monasteries and convents dating from the 14th century. Hermits first came and lived in caves up in the pillars, where eventually as many as 24 monasteries were constructed. Today, six monasteries and convents remain somewhat active, with resident monks and nuns, who seem to spend their days dealing with the masses of tourists who come by the busloads. Each monastery charges a 3 Euro entrance, and looking at the numbers of visitors, a quick calculation suggests they no longer need to sustain themselves by donations. The Ayios Triadhos (Holy Trinity) Monastery famously starred in an awesome aerial scene in the James Bond movie “For Your Eyes Only.” I have always remembered that scene and wished to see the actual site – mission now accomplished after 34 years (see photo at top of this page, or below in slide show).

A paved road, some 15 kilometers in length, winds through the pillars and up the mountain, and provides access to the “entrance” ways to each monastery. “Entrance” is a euphemism for the point at which one leaves the paved parking area and starts toward the monastery. All but one require a steep climb (mostly steps cut into the sides of the pillars) to reach the actual entrance to the structures. Two require a long descent to a bridge connecting the mountain to the pillar, followed by a steep climb up steps to the actual monastery. Over a two day span, I took the local bus each morning to the top points of the road, first at the eastern end, and the next day the western. From these points, with perhaps 18 kilometers of walking and 1200 feet of climbing I visited each of the 6 structures. All contain courtyards around which are arrayed the living quarters. Near the center of each property lies the two-chambered chapels, which have all interior walls and ceilings completely covered with fabulous 15th and 16th century frescoes, depicting various scenes of the saints’ lives, and multiple depictions of saints in the process of being martyred. Every chapel, over the door from the outer to inner chamber, contains a scene, from roof to floor, of judgement day, with people lined up before the scales of justice, and to the right side scores of people being cast into the mouths of the monsters of Hell. Unfortunately, at least for me, no photography is allowed inside the chapels (I suppose either for religious reasons or, more likely, because camera flash would quickly deteriorate the delicate colors of the age-old frescoes).

I hiked all of the roads between the monasteries, and some trails between the Meteora pillars, looking for vantage points for the exquisite panoramic views – sometimes waiting for the sun to appear through holes in the clouds to try to capture the ethereal quality of the scenes.

With my hiking and walking I should be losing weight. I cannot weigh myself, but it seems clear I am gaining girth. Apparently the food agrees with me; I think I am eating way to many dishes of lamb chops, roasted pork chunks, Greek sausages, fried calamari and tsatziki (cucumber and yogurt dipping sauce), or perhaps it just is the quantities of red wine and beer – well – maybe it’s both.

Tomorrow I head southeast for a long travel day, 3 bus changes, to Delphi, the site of the ancient Oracle. Later. Dave

 

 

 

Travel Report from Thessaloniki, Greece, Sept. 28, 2015

Hello everyone. I am on the road again, for the third time in 2015. I am intending to spend just under 3 months exploring much of Greece, though my first week has left me a little shaken. I flew Sept 16 from the US through Amsterdam directly to Thessaloniki, 2nd largest city in Greece. The Greek operated flight of the last leg was delayed in Amsterdam 4 times, without explanation, putting me into Greece about 4 hours late. Otherwise the trip was the usual series of long flights and challenging airports. I am staying in a decent hotel right in the heart of the old city, within a couple blocks of the seafront.

The negative event, that has me a little shaken, was a successful pickpocket effort made as I was exiting a crowded city bus returning from visiting the archaeological museum. The thief, or thieves, struck when the bus was crowded at the town center and I was trying to exit. I knew I had been jostled heavily, but kept firm hands on my pack and camera. Within seconds, however, I realized that it was my closed front pant pocket that had been targeted. They got my wallet with perhaps around 400 Euros, but most importantly a couple of debit cards. This brought back memories of Barcelona where 6 years ago my backpack was hit for a bunch of cash and my passport – I was stuck there for 10 days awaiting a replacement passport. I have for many years split my cash and cards into separate places so I never lose everything, and secret my passport deep in my day bag (in most countries, including Greece, one is expected to always have the original passport available for inspection by police). That worked well for me here, as I had left most of my cash and my other credit card locked in the hotel, and the passport was protected. However, I strongly desire at least one of my debit cards for ATM cash replacement, and so am again stuck, this time in Thessaloniki, awaiting replacement cards. I have found all the international toll free numbers, the national toll free numbers and/or the collect call phone numbers, which the banks provide for such emergencies, DO NOT WORK either from cell phones or hotel phones (at least in my hotel). What a pain. The numbers do work from the rare, derelict and grimy few remaining public payphones out on the very noisy street. Otherwise one is left calling the bank’s local non-toll free number internationally – from my hotel that set me back 107 Euros, charged at 2 Euros/minute. From my international cell phone sim card service, 24 out of the 27 calls to the banks got dropped within less than a minute – always while waiting for some computerized answering service to run through its program – really really frustrating. I will laugh heartily about this after I return to the US and give a piece of my mind to the two financial institutions involved, regarding the complete inability to easily and effectively get a living person with whom to talk. Anyway, one replacement card, Ally, is scheduled to be delivered to my hotel tomorrow, just under a week from the theft. The other card, from Vanguard, has not even been re-issued yet.

Back to the good stuff. Wow, is the food ever terrific here. My guide books talk about restaurants (estiatorias), which are expensive and open very late, but I have not seen one. Instead, the little streets and alleys here in city center are lined with tavernas and ouzerias (basically taverns and ouzo joints) where most of the people seem to congregate for food and drink. They all spill into the streets as sidewalk cafes, and only really fill up after 8:30 pm or so, though open all hours. A majority of the items on the menus are appetizers, ala carte plates, mezedhes, etc., basically large plates of hors d’oeuvres. I have tried at least a dozen different dishes, and all are just excellent, if not quite cheap. These include very lightly crusted fried calamari, zucchini or sardines, various roasted dishes of eggplant and wine & leak roasted meats, as well as a huge variety of cheeses and salads. All of the places also serve great house wine (in the range of 3-5 Euros for half a liter) and small 200 ml bottles of the terrific Varvalianni ouzo. A little different is the very popular Turkish type grill cafes, where grilled meats and sandwiches are very cheap and filling. The grocery store nearby sells me very decent red wine at 1.75 Euros per liter, which blesses my late afternoon pre-meal reading sessions out on my room’s little balcony overlooking the major Tsimisky Street.

My first full evening in Thessaloniki was Saturday over a week ago, the day before the national elections (in which, surprisingly to me, Tsipras again pulled out an easy victory); I was late going out to eat, when a major political protest march passed by my hotel and my outdoor cafe. The thousands of marchers, mostly seeming quite young, carried black and red banners, and my restaurant owner said he thought it was the Anarchist Party. I have included a photo (but note the party did not get the necessary 2% vote in the elections sufficient even to have a single representative in government). I also have included two photos of myself seated in two different, but by now favorite, sidewalk ouzerias, one with house wine and the other with the great Varvalliani Green ouzo. These are actually pre-supper drinks – I really do eat my full meals at the same places.

I have spent close to 4 full days, not successively, wandering the streets of old Thessaloniki viewing ancient sites. The city was founded shortly after Alexander the Great’s death, around 320 BC, and named for his half sister. It first was a major Hellenistic capital in Macedonia, after Pella, then a fairly major regional city under Roman rule between 146 BC and 330 AD, where several Roman Emperors, including Galerius, lived. It became the second capital of the Byzantine Empire, alongside Constantinople, from 330-1453. It fell to the Ottoman Turks with the sacking of Constantinople in 1453, until liberation in 1923. In short, its ruins include Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine and Ottoman. Funerary artifacts from the region include also much older bronze age, archaic and classic Greek period objects.

No Hellenistic ruins are within the city, though numerous tombs with funerary goods have been found all through the region. These are displayed in the wonderful Museum of Archaeology. The earliest architectural ruins within the city are from the Roman period, and include the Arch of Galerius, the Galerius Palace, the Agora or Forum and the round Rotunda, which was converted to use in the 4th century as the first Christian church of the Byzantine period, and then subsequently to an Ottoman mosque in the 15th century. Starting from the 5th century, Byzantine churches were built throughout the city, and many of the oldest remaining churches in the world are here. A number of 5th century churches are still in use today, and many contain remnants of 5th through 8th century mosaics and frescoes. The Ayios Sofia is modeled after the church of the same name in Constantinople (Istanbul), though smaller. It dates from the 8th century, though it has been heavily restored since then. The 5th Century Ayios Dhimitrios serves as the city’s basilica, and contains the oldest 5th through 8th century mosaics and friezes. Under the church one can visit the crypts where Saint Dhimitrios was imprisoned and martyred. The oldest church, built as a church, is the Panayia Ahiropiitos, built in the 5th century, which contains wonderful intricate carved capitals on the marble columns, and remains of mosaics on the undersides of the arches.

Parts of the Byzantine defensive walls remain along the mountain crests in the high parts of the city, and where the walls used to reach the sea still stands the White Tower, the final defensive part of the system, and now the symbol of Thessaloniki. Also there are a number of bath houses and other structures from the period of the Ottoman Turks rule. The Ottomans actually converted a number of the Byzantine churches into mosques, which within the last 100 years have been converted back into churches.

Last Monday I traveled by bus to the small community of Pella, where lie the ruins of the second capital city of the ancient Macedonian Kingdom, 4th century BC through the Hellenistic era, around 2nd century BC, which Kingdom culminated in the rule of Philip II who conquered and united all of Greece. His son, Alexander the Great, who conquered the rest of the then-known world, was born and raised in Pella. The ruins are considered less than 10% excavated and known, but the site museum has a trove of wonderful objects. Some of the private house mosaic scenes are famous, and this is where Aristotle spent his final years teaching (including Alexander as his most famous pupil).

Last Friday I traveled by bus to the city of Veria, and from there to the tiny hamlet of Vergina – from the 6th to the 4th century BC called Aigai, this was the first capital city of the Macedonian Kingdom, and here lie the very recently excavated Royal Tombs of Aigai, which include the Macedonian Kingdom style rock-cut tombs of the royal families, including most famously that of Philip II. The “museum” actually exists underground under the giant earthen “tumulus” mound which covers the royal tombs. Inside one can see the entrances to 4 of the royal tombs, with their sealed marble doors set between false pillars and under friezes with paintings. The contents of Philip’s tomb are quite astounding, including large amounts of gold, military weapons and metal and ceramic containers and artifacts. Unfortunately, for me, this appears to be the one museum in Greece with a “no photography” rule, so if you wish to see any of the artifacts, you will need to search the site on the internet. Back in Veria I visited its local Archaeology Museum which houses a terrific small collection of funerary artifacts from the Macedonian Kingdom tombs which lie everywhere under the modern city. I was here most impressed with the terracotta female figurines, which to my eyes look just like Victorian porcelain figurines – I suppose these Veria figures provided the model.

I hope to receive one of my two replacement debit cards tomorrow, and probably will not wait for the other; I feel the need to move on, as I will have spent almost 2 weeks in Thessaloniki. I think next I will head down to the small village of Litohoro, on the side of Mt Olympus where the Gods reside. I may not climb the mountain, risking the anger of Zeus, but hope to visit some nearby ruins and a castle, before moving on to central Greece. Later. Dave

PS – I note the longer captions under the photos below are being cut off – however, if you click on any photo, the slideshow displays the full captions, as well as a much better view of each photo.

Report on Rock Art of 9-Mile Canyon, Arches NP, Moab area & Sego Canyon, Aug. 14, 2015

Hello again. Almost 2 weeks ago I left Montrose Colorado and drove to Green River, Utah, a small western town off of Interstate 70 which straddles the Green River (the Green River, which originates in Wyoming, is not only the major tributary of the Colorado River, but actually is longer than the Colorado segment, and drains a larger basin, and by traditional naming conventions should be the name of the river running through the Grand Canyon). Green River (the town) sits at the epicenter of the Barrier Canyon style rock art pictographs, as well as the Fremont culture petroglyph style. I found a little RV park just recently reopened and trying to get on its feet, so giving me some privacy as well as cheap rates, along with ok facilities and Wi-Fi. One really good restaurant in town, and it is always crowded – the Tamarisk, right overlooking the river, is a delight, with a great all-you-can-eat salad and soup bar. I always eat almost exclusively here when in Green River.

On Tuesday I spent almost 10 hours driving up to and through the “9-Mile Canyon” – a misnomer as the canyon system actually is over 45 miles long (it is named for an original survey done over a 9 mile radius). The latter 25 miles of the canyon, as well as side canyons, are filled with Fremont petroglyph panels, quite a few of amazing quality. Many of the canyon shelves and ridges have evidence of Fremont pit houses and granaries. The most famous of the petroglyph panels is called the “Great Hunt”, and shows bighorn sheep together with men with bows and arrows, with a classic Fremont trapezoid anthropomorphic figure. Another well known panel is called the “Big Buffalo,” with its nearby companion called “Pregnant Buffalo”. Upon inspection of my photos I am fairly convinced the buffalo panels are not of Fremont origin, but rather historic, made in 1867 by the person who left his signed graffiti on one panel.
Thursday I drove up the Green River into the Grey Canyon to see the “Nefertiti” Fremont petroglyph panel, named for a nearby stone cliff formation which may (but does not) remind of Egyptian Queen Nefertiti. The panel displays a number of antlered mule deer, and unusual subject for petroglyphs. I passed through two large flocks of Chukar, an introduced partridge from Pakistan. Also saw countless Rock Wrens, living in family groups on every other boulder strewn hillside.

Friday of last week I spent all day around Moab, mostly visiting the small Arches National Park . The Park claims to have 2,000 sandstone arches – I am skeptical; I photographed 10, and have no doubt 10 times that many exist, but 2,000?. I then read the definition they use for “arch”: any opening in a sandstone wall (goes all the way through), if at least 3 feet long in one dimension, is considered an “arch” – thus a 3 foot long 1 inch crack is an “arch”. This is an example of how exponentially to enhance one’s presentation of almost anything by well-crafted definition. Nevertheless, those several arches that are big, and very real, are magnificent – particularly the “Double Arch”; when you look at the picture, see the size of the foreground tree – and realize the nearer arch is 150 feet long and would cover a 10 story office building. I also got a nice sighting of a Black-tailed Jackrabbit who thought he was hiding from me behind clumps of bushes – he sat framed by the marvelous ethereal colored orange sandy landscape. The Park has one nice petroglyph panel showing a Ute bighorn sheep hunt from horseback.
I also drove to some rock art panels I had not previously seen in the Moab area, including a panel on the side of a huge tumbled boulder up Kane Creek Road; the locals have named it the “Birthing Scene” petroglyph panel, as it may show an image of childbirth. I am skeptical that this is in fact what the image represents, but I suppose it is as good a guess as any. I also visited some of my favorite long petroglyph galleries along the Potash Highway.

On Sunday I visited an unusual site along the Green River called the Crystal Geyser, it is a very rare cold water geyser created by periodic underground carbon dioxide buildup (like shaking and opening a giant bottle of carbonated beverage) – I have seen photos from 80 years ago when it would shoot up to 100 feet into the air, apparently about twice daily. It has been vandalized over the years, with people throwing stones into the hole, and no longer produces the same spectacle.

I also drove to the lonely ghost town of Sego, an early 20th century coal mining town located up in the exotic Sego Canyon. Nearby are some of the very best rock art panels in Utah; at the juncture of Sego Canyon into Thompson Canyon a large rock formation juts over the stream bed exposing several large flat stone panel surfaces. These are covered with three different “generations” of rock art. Several panels have the haunting painted red figures, “pictographs,” of the archaic Barrier Canyon culture, believed to date from 3,000 to 0 BC. Overlaying some of the oldest Barrier Canyon figures, and occupying one large panel, are the petroglyphs of the Fremont culture, which lived here from 700 to 1300 AD, just north of the Anasazi culture, and produced large volumes of terrific rock art. Finally, on a nearby cliff wall are the painted petroglyph shields, horses and possible buffalo hunt scene, of Ute Indians who resided throughout this area from 1400 onward.

From Green River I drove south to Blanding, intending to investigate the area for rock art. I stayed just 2 days as we got some terrific storms rolling through. I did speak to a resident who has spent most of his life investigating rock art as a hobby, and learned a great deal about what is in the area for my investigation on my next trip. I realized then, as I contemplated remaining for several days until the dirt canyon roads dried out, that my zest for searching was fading after 6 weeks. So on Wednesday I started the 2 day drive back to Tucson. I am now considering a fall international trip, but will spend a few days getting some new weeds killed first. Later. Dave

Report on Black Canyon of Gunnison Nat. Park, Colorado Nat. Mon. & Curecanti NRA, Aug 1, 2015

Hello all. I last wrote from Dolores, CO, not knowing where I would head next. Well, I haven’t gone far. I drove northeast over the Goatshead Pass through the mountains by Telluride, and down into the Uncompahgre Valley to the town of Montrose, CO. – and here I am 8 days later. The town itself is spread out along US Highways 50 and 550, and is what one expects of a 130 year old western town. It is crowded as the annual Rodeo and County Fair have been ongoing. It does have 2 brewpubs, the presence of which always assist in my decision as to whether to remain someplace awhile. Upon arriving I discovered three nearby attractions of which I previously had been unaware (the 3 listed in the travelogue title).

I thought I had at least heard the names of all of the National Parks – but I never had heard of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. It is just 15 miles northeast of Montrose, requiring a very steep drive from under 6,000 to close to 8,000 feet. A large uplift of a small landmass, starting about 2 million years ago, across the path of the Gunnison River created the geologic wonder. The river has cut an almost half mile deep gorge through very hard, almost black, metamorphic rock (the oldest type of rock on earth), striped with light colored ancient lava flows forced into cracks, leaving incredibly dark, lined, steep cliffs comprising the gorge. It is so steep in most places that it is only possible to just see bits of the river at the bottom from a few vantage points. The passage through the canyon is considered basically impenetrable to man, although some have braved it, and some have not made it. It is a small park, but quite a marvel and jewel.

I spent three long mornings exploring the south rim of the Canyon, with its numerous overlooks (most requiring short hikes out from the rim road). The entire rim top is beautiful Juniper Pinyon Forest, full of Mule Deer, and incredible numbers of Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels and the very tiny Least Chipmunks which run with their tails held vertically. Along the rim I got to see (and report) the bear that has been ravaging several trailers and camps in the Park’s campground (saw him up on a hill above the campground – he was headed down into the camp at mid-day, which I reported to the authorities). I also lucked into my first viewing of several families of Dusky Grouse, a very large (chicken size) bird formerly known as the Blue Grouse, as well as my first Mountain Cottontails (rabbits similar to Desert Cottontails, but with shorter ears).

I spent another full day driving up through Grand Junction and out just west to the Colorado National Monument, of which I also was ignorant. It is a small set of red sandstone canyons cut through a mesa, which can be best viewed from the rim drive. Although magnificent, it really is no more impressive, and sometimes less so, than any number of canyon systems in the northern 2/3 of Arizona and much of southern Utah (and so, a little surprising it acquired national monument status). Still, some of the vistas comprised terrific panoramic scenes, designed seemingly purposefully for large multi-shot photo montages (the first three scenic photos attached each are created from up to 40 individual photos, although the reduced size uploaded to the website does not permit appreciation of the inherent resolution). I also enjoyed the many Violet-green Swallows and White-throated Swifts swooping through the canyons; one swallow sat on a dead branch over a precipice allowing me to sneak within meters to photograph it from behind a Pinyon Pine tree.

While discussing the Dusky Grouse with Park Service rangers at the Black Canyon, I inquired about the Gunnison Sage Grouse – this is a very rare grouse (maybe 5,000 living), which exists in just two tiny geographic pockets of high sage-grass mesas. It is listed under the Endangered Species Act. I was referred 3 times to different offices, and never got any concrete info on where the birds might be seen, other than references to the general vicinity of the Curecanti National Recreation Area (this consists of the area around Blue Mesa Lake along the Gunnison River just upstream from the Black Canyon Park). Online research disclosed that the rangers only publicly disclose one single spot where the general pubic may see the grouse during their breeding performances (not this time of year) – this lack of assistance designed apparently to protect the birds from too many birders.

Two days ago I drove over to the Curecanti area and took a dirt county road south up onto a large mesa; traversing this mesa top I enjoyed mule deer and a cheeky Yellow-bellied Marmot, which ran up into a vertical crevice and, while I photographed him, held there as if I could not see him. At the south end of the mesa I drove over and up onto a neighboring mesa for another dirt county road headed back north. Here I had luck, spotting my first 4 Gunnison Sage Grouse as they flushed and flew directly away from me. No chance for photos, but the high mesa top, covered with thick sage brush and high grasses, with periodic water holes, appeared ideal habitat. I returned the day before yesterday and spent the early morning hours along an 8 mile stretch of the mesa top and was rewarded with sightings of 13 more Gunnison Sage Grouse in 4 different groups. I got some photos of the grouse crossing the road; as soon as they enter the sage they become invisible, even when you know exactly where to look (I have included a couple of not-so-great photos only because the birds are rare). On the same mesa top I photographed my first Sage Thrasher, my first White-tailed Prairie Dog, and was surprised to see a Pronghorn. All in all a successful hunt day.

Today I intend to drive to Green River, Utah, sitting close to some of the world’s greatest rock art sites.  I still am entirely uncertain what I will do after that. Every time I pull out the map, I find vague reasons for not continuing north. I think this is a sign I should return soon toward Tucson and start working on an international trip. I have been living in the little RV for exactly one month now. Later. Dave

Report On Coral Pink Sand Dunes, Glen Canyon Dam, Sand Island Petroglyphs and Sand Canyon, July 23, 2015

The morning before I left Kanab, UT, I drove out to see the Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park; the morning sun, coupled with the blooming rough mulesear flowers and sage, made for some magical color photos of the pink-orange dunes.

From Kanab I drove back east, down into Arizona to Page, by the Glen Canyon Dam at the southern end of Lake Powell. I had not seen it before, and the lake, although low, set in the dry desert landscape was a visual treat, along with the river gorge below the dam, the mouth of Marble Canyon (which turns into the Grand Canyon some miles downstream as the Colorado enters its cut through the 9,000 ft. Kaibab Plateau). I had desired to photograph the famous Antelope Canyon, a slot canyon on the Navajo Reservation just outside of Page. Although I had heard it had lots of visitors, I was unprepared for the reality. Throughout both days I was there, the entrances both to upper and lower Antelope Canyon were filled with dozens of cars and RVs, with vehicles lined at the little drive-by booths to pay an entrance fee. It was unbelievably depressing, and after two days I gave up the idea in frustration. Perhaps I will visit in the future in the early spring or late fall. I also had visions of fishing on Lake Powell. Checking all the rates for boats and guides, the cheapest was $350 for half a day, which I decided would not allow me to have fun. One interesting feature of Page, the little town sitting squat over the rocky prominence rising above the dam, lies along the main road where it loops a large 180 degree semicircle around the playing field of the local high school. Around the outer edge of this curve sit 8 different churches, large structures, literally side by side, with no other property between. I never have seen so many disparate churches lined up (actually encircled) like this. I saw no church anywhere else in the town. Perhaps this is some strange accident of history (a zoning requirement forcing this situation would be unconstitutional). There was no way to capture the scene in a still photo from the ground – it would require a video shot while traversing the semi-circle.

From Page I drove east across the northern part of the Navajo Reservation, south of Navajo Mountain and finally back up into Utah to Bluff on the northern banks of the San Juan River, where I previously have photographed rock art a number of times. I did more of the same, again seeking out what I am convinced are Columbian mammoth petroglyphs along a high panel in the upper Sand Island area. If indeed mammoths, these petroglyphs now are the documented oldest rock art in all the Americas. The reason for saying they are the documented oldest is simple; petroglyphs are notoriously difficult or impossible to date accurately. Columbian Mammoths, however, are known from the fossil record to have become extinct in southern Utah by about 12,000 years ago, and the earliest widely accepted dates for humans in the New World is around 13,500 years ago. That puts a fairly tight constraint on the origin dates of this rock art. No other petroglyphs are known showing such fauna, nor are accepted as anywhere near as old. This may require re-evaluation of similar rock art in this and other areas. As slowly as research progresses now, I expect it will be decades before much more is recorded in this area.

I investigated the location of another petroglyph panel I had heard of locally, and went to hike to it the second day. Unfortunately the area has had record rainfall, and the petroglyph location required crossing the Butler Wash, which was filled with rushing water and thickets of tamarisk and Russian olive, basically impassible – and probably will remain so until a month or two after the end of rainy season. I also inquired about joining one of the float expeditions down the San Juan River, which is the only way to get to the fabulous Butler Wash petroglyph panels (which I previously have photographed); unfortunately, all tours booked for the next several days had large numbers of people, filling the boats – I could fit but would be one of many, with little special opportunity for the photography I wished to do.  I did revisit one of my favorites, hiking to the Basketmaker era petroglyph panel known locally as the “Wolfman” panel.

From Bluff, I traveled a short distance following the San Juan upriver and crossed into southwestern Colorado. I’m spending some down-time in Dolores, just north of Cortez, and the heartland of the ancient Anasazi agricultural population centers. One advantage of down-time in Dolores is that it has one of the better microbreweries around, the Dolores River Brewery. Their ESB is especially good, and I have visited no other brewpub that brews it (I used to drink it on tap in Phoenix, imported from England – but the crossing often was harsh on the beer).

I spent a few slow hours a few days ago at the Anasazi Heritage Center, the BLM museum for the surrounding Canyon of the Ancients. I inquired and learned of some nearby Puebloan sites I have not visited, including the Sand Canyon where a number of small cliff dwellings and pueblos may be found. Two days ago I drove to the north side of Sleeping Ute Mountain, to the mouth of Sand Canyon, and spent 5 hours hiking roughly 10 miles total trip through the canyon, photographing 7 small cliff dwellings strung along the upper canyon walls, as well as a small ground pueblo room and the remains of a round tower built over a small precipice. They were built and occupied chiefly during the 12th and 13th Centuries. Most have been given wonderful names, some translated from local native dialects, such as “House with Standing Curved Wall” and “Corncob House.”  Although these Puebloan ruins don’t compare with the great cliff dwellings of sites like Mesa Verde and Betatakin, they have the huge advantage of loneliness. I wandered in spectacular scenery, discovering the dwellings one at a time, and never saw or heard another human all day. That is worth, to me, a great deal. My legs were dead at the end of the hike, being somewhat out-of-shape for challenging rough rocky country (carrying a 10lb pack and 7 ½ lbs. of cameras around my neck didn’t help) – the sole of my right foot actually acquired some bruising, despite good hiking boots and wool socks; I clearly need to toughen up with more hiking.  As I have not engaged in a lot of other photography since my last report (other than petroglyph rock art), I have included a photo of each of the charming little Puebloan ruins in Sand Canyon, in the order in which I discovered them from south to north.

I have no idea where I may head or what I may do next. I would like to get up to the Great Lakes, but it is such a long drive. Perhaps I will again head up through Wyoming and Montana, which really is some of my favorite part of the country. Later. Dave

Travel Report on Verde Valley & Kaibab Plateau, AZ & Kanab, UT, July 11, 2015

Hello everyone.  I am on the road again, literally, hauling my tiny Scamp RV north from Tucson, escaping the summer heat and seeking photo opportunities.  I left just before the July 4th weekend, headed North to the Verde River Valley which runs through central Arizona below the Mogollon Rim.  I always stay at the Dead Horse Ranch State Park, right on the Verde River, with its forests of cottonwood, willow and Arizona ash trees filling the wide river flood plain.  Because the US women’s soccer team surprised me by walloping Germany in the semi-finals, I spent some time after arriving trying to locate a sports bar in the nearby town of Cottonwood so I could watch the third place match (Germany vs England) on Saturday the 4th, and the finals between the US and Japan on the 5th.  I wound up at the Chaparral Bar, an old west relic with imported draft beer at reasonable prices, and watched the games. The US team certainly avenged their last final against Japan.

Out at the campsite I finally got some pictures, at sunrise, of the little rodents which dig all the holes in the ground around the facilities – they are Botta’s Pocket Gophers, and they only seem to come above ground to shovel dirt out of the entrance to their excavations at the crack of dawn (I had previously assumed they were ground squirrels and wondered why I never saw them).  Watching the gophers up close I reminisced about Bill Murray’s titanic battle with gophers in Caddy Shack.  Shortly after sun-up the gophers create a dirt plug at the entrance to close all holes, so evidence of their presence is limited to the dozens of fresh dirt mounds.

On Sunday I bicycled over to Clarkdale to see the Verde Valley Railroad depot, from where the summer tourist train departs for its day-trip up the Verde Valley.  I then continued most of the way up to Jerome, the artsy ghost town on the side of the mountain overlooking the valley.  I also found a site for early morning viewing of Tuzigoot, the ruins of the large 3-story, 120 room, Sinaguan Pueblo perched on a stone mound above the floodplain, which housed 100s of people from 1,000 to 1,400 AD.

Monday I traveled on north passing through Flagstaff, up the western part of the Navajo Nation, across the Navajo Bridge over Marble Canyon at Lee’s Ferry (where all Grand Canyon river rafting trips start), past the Vermillion Cliffs (where the endangered California Condors are released) and finally up the Kaibab Plateau to just under 9,000 feet.  There I camped under the pines for a few days at the Jacob Lake Campground, and tried to improve my photos of the elusive Kaibab Squirrel.  It is a special subspecies of the tassel eared Abert’s Squrrel, and exists only on the Kaibab at the north rim of the Grand Canyon.  The Kaibab Squirrel is the most exotic looking squirrel in North America, having a charcoal colored body with a bushy, all white tail – it has long pointed ears, which in the winter have tassels of hair which extend to double the length of the ears.  Although not uncommon, it is difficult to get decent photos.

I spent two mornings driving the 44 miles across the plateau to the north rim, to get a few spectacular scenic overviews of the Canyon.  Normally the very early drives produce a lot of wildlife sightings, but this time just a few mule deer and wild turkey made their appearance.  I did have the breakfast buffet spread in the magnificent lodge dining room overlooking the canyon.

From Jacobs Lake I drove down off the Kaibab and crossed just into Utah to Kenab in red-rock country, a filming site for a number of mid-century western movies, including several by James Garner.  I specifically wanted finally to visit some of the slot canyons in this part of the country, and the day before yesterday hired a small tour company to take me to the Peekaboo Slot Canyon.  It required about 45 minutes of 4X4 drive time through deep sand and several stream wash-outs to reach the entrance.  We had severe thunderstorms the afternoon before, and it turned out a small flash flood had just run through the Peekaboo slot  – at several points the water had washed out the sandy bottom, and we found ourselves in waist-deep mucky water down to the bottom of the slot.  These deep water pools already had frog spawn with small families of frogs trying to avoid our bodies in the narrows.  I left all my gear except a single camera at the first water pool, but managed still to get a few decent photos in fairly good light.  A second slot I was going to visit, the Wire Pass, apparently now has an 8-foot drop-in near the start, which is possible to descend but only passable to exit by those who like to rock climb.  I do intend to visit another slot canyon or two on the Navajo Reservation near Page where I intend to go next.

I spent much of yesterday instead re-visiting Zion National Park.  I again saw bighorn sheep near the small tunnel where I have twice before photographed them.  Zion Canyon always is stunning, but yesterday the crowds were almost unimmaginable – I got there for an early shuttle up to the end of the canyon, and then hiked out along the river, so only saw the crowds as I passed the trailheads, or as the “standing-room-only” shuttles passed by every 7 minutes on the road.  Fairly heavy intermittant cloud cover lessoned the visual impact of the cliffs, at least for photography.  I did see mule deer a number of times, several with fawns.

I probably will head out towards Page later this morning, but will decide after another cup of coffee, and perhaps a quick run out to see the Pink Coral Sand Dunes State Park very near by.  Later.  Dave

Report on Badami-Pattadakal-Aihole, Hampi, Madurai, Kodai & Bombay, India, Mar. 26, 2015

I last reported on Goa, from where we drove over the Western Ghats to Badami, Pattadakal and Aihole, where for two days we visited the archaeological remains of the great Hindu Chalukyan Empire which controlled much of south-central India from the 6th through the 8th centuries.  Badami served as the capital from 543-757 AD.  Four of the earliest Badami temples are monolithic carvings into stone cliffs in a style patterned after the Ellora Caves; these have some magnificent 3-D relief panel carvings of heroic sized Hindu deities.  Of particular note is the 16 armed “dancing Lord Shiva” with images of Nandi the bull and Lord Ganesh the elephant headed deity below.   Scattered around a lake just below the caves, and on nearby mountaintops, are a large number of temples constructed from finely cut and fitted stones, using no mortar, in a manner reminiscent of the ancient Hittites and more recent Incas.  At nearby Pattadakal, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Chalukyan temples all are constructed in a single large courtyard, believed to have been used just for coronation rites of the various kings.  The most unusual, slightly oval, late 7th century Durga Temple, as well as a couple of others, appear to have “sealed” their entirely stone roofs by placing stone “half logs” (as if one cut a log in half lengthwise) on top of all stone seams.  Aihole, further to the east, was the largest Chalukyan center, operating well into the 12th century (the later period being denominated “Rashtrakuta”), and contains over 120 temples and structures spread over a very large area.  I had never properly seen these southern style temple structures before this trip, and realized now the contribution this architectural style apparently made to the Angkorian Empire construction in the 9th-14th centuries in Cambodia.

From Badami we traveled south to Hospet to visit the World Heritage Site of Hampi, an ancient ghost town now.  We spent two days covering the more important of the hundreds of temples, pillared halls and palaces of the capital city of the Vijayanagar Empire, which founded this capital in 1343, where it remained until destroyed by Muslim forces in 1565.  The city at its height was the trading capital of the Indian Deccan,  trading horses, spices, jewels and silk.  The kilometer-long approaches to the major temples are stone paved “roadways” a hundred feet wide, lined on both sides with double storied pillared shopping stalls which created the gigantic markets for the traders.  The buildings are spread over many square miles, most constructed of finely cut sandstone, with intricate pillars and carvings.  Many of the pillared temples and long hallways are reminiscent of classic Greek architecture.  Here also, especially on the massive Vitthala Temple, are the pillars with fantastic carved rearing horse and dragon creatures, each ridden by a small deity figure, most closely reminiscent of carousel animals with their riders.  The high fortified city and palace stone walls, where still standing, display the incredible mortar-less stone work where each stone is custom fitted to the exact shape of the surrounding stones – so that most are only roughly rectangular, having often 5 to 10 edges to precisely fit their neighbors.  Again, this is most reminiscent of the ancient Hittite and much later contemporary Inca construction.

From Hampi we traveled south, flying to Madurai, where we met a number of members of our 1967 high school class from boarding school days in India.  Our hotel, the Gateway Resort was located on top of a heavily wooded hill overlooking the town; at least 15 fairly exotic species of birds resided on the forested grounds and provided good photography targets.  We visited the outer perimeter of the famous Meenakshi Hindu Temple, but were hugely disappointed at the extreme police barricades completely encircling the square block, with police watch-towers at each corner and no photography permitted inside.  The “blessing” elephant came around the side street to intercept us, rubbing its snotty trunk on our heads and shirts looking for money which it grabbed in exchange for issuing a “blessing” on us.

From Madurai we traveled to Kodaikanal, the old British hill station where we went to boarding school from the mid-1950s through 1967.  Mostly we all just spent the entire time at different old Kodai classmate’s houses for teas and dinners (a number of ex-Kodai School alumni now live part time in Kodai, many of them artists or teaching part-time at the school).  Kodai School at the time we all attended in the 1950s and 1960s was a small school teaching grades 1 through 12, with generally no more than 300 total students, all of whom lived in various boarding houses for 9 months of each year.  This made us much more like family than classmates, and even after 50 years we find we have solid bonds and incredible mutual memories.

Kodaikanal town itself lies at about 7,700 feet, at the side of a picturesque lake, and is surrounded by hilltops and dense sholas –  heavily rain-forested areas filling the watersheds, which forests are comprised of around 70 species of trees.  This dense and wet environment provides a most beautiful countryside, with multiple damned lakes, and is filled with a huge number of wildlife and bird species.  The gaur, the world’s largest buffalo (and dangerous), now wander down shola roads around the Kodai Lake.  I had time for a couple of short hikes, both led by ex-boarding house mate Bruce Peck; the first just through Bombay Shola where we were rewarded with 20 minutes of entertainment by a pair of rare Malabar Giant Squirrels, and the second down to the top of Pembar Falls where we saw both a giant flying squirrel and a very endangered Nilgiri Wood Pigeon.

From Kodai, my travel partners Ken, Anna and I traveled down the back Ghat road to Coimbatore, from where we flew to Bombay.  We have spent the last two days visiting sites Ken and I remember from the days we lived in India.  Of particular interest was our half-day boat trip across the harbor to Elephanta Island, another UNESCO World Heritage Site with several 6th century,Ellora style, monolithic rock cave temples; the Cave 1 contains the famous and huge (20 feet high) 3-face image of Shiva known as Trimurti.  The 1 hour boat ride to the island still leaves from the Gateway to India, built in 1924 to honor the visit of King George V in 1911.   We also visited the famous Victoria Terminus, the main train station in Bombay, built with the classic British architectural style of India in 1887.  Ken and I wandered for a while through the narrow passageways of Crawford Market where our parents once a year, 5 to 6 decades ago, would come to shop for tinned and packaged specialty goods imported from England and the USA.  We had lunch on consecutive days at Gaylords Restaurant, where I have fond memories, over 5 decades old, of pickled onions and hard-crusted rolls with creamery butter (neither now available – the restaurant has gone from old British to Indian food), and Khyber Restaurant, perhaps the fanciest Indian restaurant in town, where Ken’s accompaniments of a bowl of white rice and plastic bottle of water alone cost 560 Rupees ($9.00 US).  This morning I walked to the Red Shield House, a hostal/hotel operated by the Salvation Army since the early 1900s.  When in Bombay in the 50s and 60s my family used to stay there in a double room with private bath, now still available with added AC for $24, inclusive of breakfast.  The backpacker dorms cost $5.50, inclusive of breakfast.  Directly cattycorner stands the majestic Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, which was the major target in the 2008 Bombay terror attacks, and where rooms start at over $600.  Quite a contrast in lodging, which has existed unchanged for close to 100 years.

My India time is up, and I head to the airport this evening for the very long flight back to the United States.  Later.  Dave

Report on Chikalda, Ellora & Ajanta Caves & Goa, India, Mar. 11, 2015

I reported last from Kanha National Park where our first 2 safaris saw us pretty much riding through rain in an open jeep.  After two nights and 1 day of heavy rain, our final day turned out beautiful, but the Park cancelled the morning safaris because of downed trees and mud; so we really were fairly out-of-luck for wildlife viewing.

From Kanha we drove southwest to the low hills of northern Maharashtra where I went to boarding school for the first grade in 1954-1955, in a town then called Chikalda (now Chikaldara).  We stayed 2 nights in a rather decrepit hotel, reputed to be the best in town.  It certainly cooked us wonderful Indian food, but getting hot water was a bit of a rare occurrence.  We actually managed to find our old school building, now converted into a hotel – rather a poor looking hotel – with no guests, as it is the low season.  We also managed to find the reconditioned building where I boarded for a year with 11 other children – it now is an Indian Government Tourism Department hotel – more decrepit than the school property hotel, and also without guests.

We spent one entire morning visiting the famous (to us) fort known as Gawilghur, located in a stunning location on a giant mountain top outcroppng with cliffs on three sides and just a long narrow stretch connecting the double sets of walls to the mountaintop.  Mainly built in the 15th century, it saw its last battle in 1803 when General Arthur Wellesley (later the Duke of Wellington of Napoleonic Wars fame) successfully attacked the Maratha forces with British and various Indian troops, taking the fort after great losses to his attacking troops.  He spent weeks having his engineers built a road up the mountain for hauling his cannon.  Military historian Jac Weller apparently has said that three boy scout troops armed with rocks should have been able to defend the fort against military force.  The breaches in the walls still are visible today as the fort was abandoned after 1803.   As a very young boy, the fort always captured my imagination on our infrequent hikes, and it did not disappoint on this trip. The fort still has its largest canon sitting forlorn overlooking the cliff where General Wellesley watched from a distance as the British flag finally was raised over the far ramparts.

From Chikalda we spent a long day traveling back to my childhood home in Basim (now Washim) in Maharashtra.  There I found my old childhood home, where I lived with my family from age 3 to 17, in more decrepit condition than the Chikalda properties, with the entire outer veranda porch collapsing into the soil, and the interior a mess.  Trying to “go home” after half a century can be a real disappointment.

We drove by the Lonar meteor crater, a natural wonder of the world.  It is one of two recently (within, say, 50,000 years) formed meteor craters in the world heavily studied by NASA (the other being Meteor Crater in northern Arizona).  My father used to take us there in November to hunt peahens (females of Peafowl) for Thanksgiving dinner (you may ask why we hunted the peahens instead of the peacocks – the answer is simple – the peacock is India’s national bird and protected, but the peahen may be hunted).  The meteor crater floor is covered by a lake, and around the edges are the ruins of a number of ancient Hindu temples, their placement in recognition of this site as being other-worldly.  From Lonar we drove on to the Maharashtra city of Aurangabad where we stayed 3 nights.

The hills east of Aurangabad offer two of the most spectacular archaeological ruins on earth, both now World Heritage Sites; the Ellora Caves and the Ajanta Caves.  These are not natural caves, but Buddhist, Hindu and Jain monasteries, chapels and temples, hand carved into solid volcanic basalt cliffs between the 2nd century BC and around 800 AD.  The earlier of the two sets of monuments is at the Ajanta Caves, which consist of 27 different  Buddhist “viharas” (chapel shrines) and monasteries, all carved into a long horseshoe shaped cliff overlooking  a small canyon with creek.  Many of the structures have interior walls still completely covered in painted murals depicting scenes from the Buddha’s life, as well as scenes of visiting rajas and traders.  The interiors of the monuments are kept very dark to preserve the paintings, and so it is very difficult to obtain photos.  The caves were not discovered in modern times until well into the 19th century.  The Ellora Caves were constructed about 100 kms away, after the Ajanta Caves were abandoned.  The early Ellora Caves all were Buddhist and very similar to Ajanta, but any wall paintings have been destroyed.  The later Ellora caves are Hindu and Jain temples and monasteries.  The 8th century Kailash Hindu Temple probably is the largest monolithic structure in the world made by man.  Rather than being a “cave” carved into the side of the mountain, it is a monolithic temple carved from the top of the mountain down, resulting in a huge domed structure some 95 feet tall, with interior floors, stairs etc.  Around the outer courtyard are verandas carved further into the sides of the mountain.  Everywhere are Hindu gods carved as part of the monolithic structure.  It is not hyperbole to say it staggers the imagination.

From Aurangabad we had a long day of flying (over 4 hours in Bombay airport) to Goa where we have stayed the last 3 nights.  Goa, which was a Portuguese enclave until a few decades ago, was the landing point of Vasco de Gama when he “discovered” India.  It is separated from the rest of the Indian subcontinent by the Western Ghats, a large mountain range running down the southwestern coast of India.  In recent times, Goa has become the beach resort destination for foreigners, most of whom have come from Russia and the Slavic countries.  With the economic downturn throughout much of Europe and the collapse of the Ruble, tourists just are not visiting Goa as much and times are hard for the merchants.  Old Goa is the original colonial town which has some fairly interesting Portuguese 16th and 17th century churches and ruins.  I also spent two half days doing some birding in the nearby foothills of the western Ghats at a place called Bondla Wildlife Sanctuary, and was rewarded with several new bird, including the Crimson-backed Sunbird, Asian Paradise Flycatcher and Malabar Pied Hornbill.

Report on Calcutta and Kaziranga, Bandhavgarh & Kanha National Parks, India, Mar. 2, 2015

Hello everyone.  From Nepal I flew the 17th of February to Calcutta, where I stayed just two nights before flying on to Guwahati, Assam in the far northeast of India.  My free day in Calcutta I spent about 4 hours in the very old Indian Museum, which dates from the 1850s.  It is the oldest museum in Asia, and it shows in several ways.  The building was constructed around 1800 and is a marvelous old bit of British colonial architecture, with the four sides surrounding an open courtyard.  The museum houses all forms of collections, from the terrific archaeological gems and statuary from all parts of India, to paleontology and fossils, to the natural history section with its ancient stuffed mammals and birds.  As to the sad and hilarious stuffed creatures, my Rough Guide simply stated that “most look in dire need of a decent burial.”

On the 19th I arrived in Guwahati, capital of Assam, where I met my friends from Canada, Ken Pease and his wife Anna; we had a car and driver drive us directly to Kaziranga National Park, about 5 hours to the east, where we stayed for 5 nights.  Kaziranga is famous mostly, and justly, for its tremendous numbers of the endangered Great One-horned Rhinoceros.  The park sits covering a huge 430 square kilometers on the southern banks of the great Brahmaputra River system;  this land consists mostly of lowlands, which periodically flood, and is covered about 1/3 with elephant grass.  Here live large numbers of endangered very large beasts.  Most of the world’s remaining Great One-horned Rhinos live here, the largest Rhinos on earth, together with equal numbers of the very large and mean looking Asian Wild Buffalo (ancestor of water buffalos), with large populations of Asian Elephants.  All these large animals seem almost commonplace as one jeeps around the various Park trails.  Also present are large numbers of endangered Barasingha (Swamp Deer), and Hog Deer, together with Sambar and Muntjac.  Tigers and leopards are here in fair numbers, but very rarely seen.

The first morning we did our one and only elephant ride into the edge of the park.  The elephant back gives one a vantage point to look down from above the elephant grass and so to get right up close to the Rhinos.  The rhinos are pretty much unperturbed by the presence of the elephants, even with the people talking.  The elephants are, however, fairly uncomfortable to ride, with an uneasy and lurching gait (not nearly so bad a riding a camel, but considerable worse than a horse or mule).  One rhino had a very young and cute newborn with her.  Another had a major horn wound on its rump.  They say its breeding season, and the rhinos tend to fight, whether male or female.  The Asiatic Wild Buffalo look pretty much like very large water buffalo, but the males have generally much broader horns.  The Asian Elephants are not as dangerous as their African brethren, but still they are reputed in each Park to kill several people a year.

We drove back to Guwahati on Tuesday and spent a very long day flying first to Calcutta and, after a 4 hour layover, to Nagpur.  After a short night’s sleep we drove a long day up to Bandhavgarh Tiger Reserve, famous for supposedly having the highest density of tigers of any reserve.  The jeep safaris, however, leave very much to be desired.  We did see tiger the first time out, but with 18 jeeps in the same area, and all literally racing to each scene of a reported tiger sighting, the dust clouds were enormous and made seeing practically impossible.  Further, as the jeeps raced up, invariably, the resting tiger would walk away into the forest.  It is an almost unconscionable way to run a famous tiger reserve.  Our final safaris we insisted upon getting away from the other jeeps; we were rewarded with a private tiger sighting in a riverbed, and watched the tiger bed down behind a large boulder.  There is not a large diversity of species of birds here in the central plains of India, but I was impressed with my first several sightings of the Crested Hawk Eagle with its very long crest feathers almost comically jutting from the top of its head.  I also saw the beautiful little Black Redstart, and the unusual Red-naped Ibis.  Our accomodations were a series of cottages spread around a small lake, and we constantly had a troupe of Common Langur monkeys in the trees and on the roofs around us.

From Bandhavgarh we drove back south to Kanha National Park, perhaps the best of the central Indian Parks.  It has dense jungles of Sal and Teak, with the canopy often well over 100 feet.  It has large numbers of the endangered Barasingha Deer as well as the largest buffalo species in the world, the Gaur.   We saw no tiger here, but did see many Gaur and our first sighting of a pair of Sloth Bears.  The Spotted Deer bucks were fighting and the Peacocks displaying as mating season arrived.  The weather was terrible, and it rained most of the first two nights and our entire first safari day which had booked 2 “premium” safaris.  We spent much of the time huddled under a plastic jeep top, and the rest I was bundled under my poncho, trying to keep myself and camera dry.  It was dark, and needless to say, pictures were way below standard due to both lack of light and the heavy rain.  The second morning, after rainfall continuously for 36 hours, the rain cleared but the Park closed temporarily due to wash-outs, and our safaris were cancelled.  They reported a total of 76mm (31 inches) of rainfall in the park over the last day and half (This doesn’t sound credible).  This is supposed to be the dry season.

Tomorrow we head out for a long day of driving to Chikaldara, a jungle hilltop station where I went to boarding school in 1954-55.

Report on Kathmandu, Pokhara & Chitwan Nat. Park, Nepal, Feb. 16, 2015

From Delhi I flew to Kathmandu 9 days ago;  I again had a little trouble clearing security – my daypack is filled with camera and hiking items, most of which have metal.  The Indian security, much tighter than in the USA, requires every item with any metal to be removed and put in separate containers for inspection – a very time consuming process for me (I do not trust most of these items to my checked luggage).

Kathmandu has certainly changed since my last visit in 1982.  It has gone from a hill town, with many old wooden structures and population of 350,000 to a vast continuous concrete jungle, with terrible air and water pollution, choked streets and arteries and a population of over 3 million.  Getting to see the sites was a real chore.  Still – the entire valley is named a World Heritage Site for 7 remarkable  core areas – I visited 6 of these.  The capitals of three Kingdoms which ruled the Valley from the 12th through the early 18th centuries, Kathmandu, Bhaktapur and Patan, each has an ancient center called Durbar Square.  Here one finds the old palaces and temple pagodas, mostly constructed of brick and wood from the 15th through the early 18th centuries, with intricate carvings in the wood.  Pillars and stone gods abound.

The monuments are a photographer’s dream – which creates a photographer’s problem, identical to one I encountered in the Cambodian Angkor Watt temples.  Roughly 90% of the tourists here are from mainland China, coming by the thousands in large tour groups.  Numbers of young women come with friend, husband or contract photographers, I don’t know which, and perch themselves as “models” before and upon the temples, statues, windows or any spots providing photogenic opportunities.  They dress in spectacular colors, favoring local indigenous clothing, with gaudy jewelry, and the males with the cameras start shooting.  I have not figured out whether this is just a form of self-absorption or whether these are women trying to create portfolios for entering careers as models.  Whatever, it is a bit of a nuisance for those of us interested in the Heritage site monuments themselves.  The structures should remain unadorned by dressed up wannabee models, sitting glamorously, even sulkily, but, always, sitting to block the windows, doorways, ledges, stairs or wherever.  This certainly is a form of monument pollution – it should be forbidden.  They strike poses, gazing through sunglassed eyes off in the distance, one arm languorously extended with a hand resting on an elephant’s or god’s head.  These photo “shoots” can extend through dozens of poses.

The other Heritage sites in the Kathmandu Valley include two spectacular Buddhist Stupas, the Boudhanath and the Swayumbhunath, both dating from the 5th century.  Finally, the Pashupatinath Hindu Temple is the holiest in Nepal and famous throughout SE Asia, and its site on a small river rivals the Varanasi Ghats for funerals.  No one knows when the temple first was constructed – the earliest historic reference to reparations are from the 12th century – but it all is very old.  I watched one entire cremation ceremony, moved by one wailing woman, presumably the wife of the deceased.  The Temple monuments cover over half a square kilometer, and everywhere are both Brahmins bestowing blessings on visitors, and large numbers of Sadhus (holy, usually ascetic, men), many covered in ash, all with long hair and beards, and most wearing blazing colors.  Decades ago one could ask and usually receive permission to take photos of a Sadhu, usually then giving a small baksheesh (gift).  Today they band together and actively market their availability for photo opportunities for cash payment.  I wonder how this commercial activity has affected their “holiness”.

From Kathmandu I drove to Pokhara, in a different Himalayan foothills valley.  The road to Pokhara, the only “major” highway through central Nepal, is a death-trap.  I have traveled the world and seen some dangerous mountain roads, but this was the worst I recall.  Drivers of the huge trucks speed downhill, and many crazies attempt to pass on curves.  We were involved in a dozen very near misses, and along the 200 km route I counted the results of 7 accidents, two clearly fatal.  I advise anyone traveling this route to consider using the small prop aircraft that fly to Pokhara.

Pokhara itself sits in a valley with the highest rainfall in Nepal, close to the Annapurna  Range of the Himalaya.  From Pokhara, and particularly from the tops of some of the low mountains around it, one has a view of 3 of the highest peaks in the world, all over 26,000 feet.  A major factor in mountains’ impressiveness is, of course, scale – the gain in elevation over one’s view point, and distance to the mountains.  The Rocky Mountains from Denver, though with several 14,000 ft. peaks, tower only about 9,000 feet above Denver.  Even the great Andes Peaks, which climb to over 20,000 ft., must usually be viewed from elevations of close to 8,000 feet, giving a differential of about 12,000 ft.  But the Himalayas, with many peaks over 26,000 ft. can be viewed from many vantage points at under 5,000 feet, giving them over a 20,000 foot differential.  This creates an “awesomeness” no other mountain range in the world achieves.

Pokhara sits on the north shore of a dammed lake, on the south side of which is the Raniban Forest.  I hired a local guide to lead me on a hike though the forest – twice we had to climb about 200 meters up 60 degree slopes to gain passage around the lake, often climbing on knees to keep from careening back down the mountain side.  I did get to see 8 new and glorious species of spectacular forest birds, including the Greater Yellownape, Long-tailed Broadbill, Asian Barred Owlet and Maroon Oriole; got a few pictures, but the distance, intervening growth, and under-foliage darkness made any great photography practically impossible (my apologies in advance for including a few less than stellar bird photos, but those included were some of my favorite birds).

From Pokhara I drove down a steep river gorge into the southern lowlands of Nepal to the Chitwan National Park, another World Heritage Site.  I had visited here 33 years ago, and wanted to return for its famous Greater One-horned Rhinoceros, which have been critically endangered for decades (the population was under 600 in 1975, but now has been brought back to around 3,000).  It is the world’s largest rhino, with heavy skin folds appearing as armored plating.  The first afternoon, I watched three rhinos from my 4th floor veranda as they grazed – one crossing the Rapti River to enter the Park – about 1 km downstream.  I had one early morning elephant ride into the park, but it was marred by my being paired with a family of 3 Nepalese who carried on a conversation non-stop for the first hour.  I  finally requested their silence so we could hear the jungle sounds (at the location for boarding the elephants is a large sign stating “do not talk”, among other admonitions).  The mornings seem always to have a very heavy fog, making photography all but impossible.  I took one 5 hour private jeep ride in the afternoon, with a good private bird guide, and though the birding was a little thin, we were rewarded with one excellent encounter with a large male rhino taking a water-mud bath.   When it lifted its head out of the water, the wounds on its chin made clear it had been sparring with others – the guide noted it was the beginning of breeding season and the males were all fighting.  I also finally got a decent photo opportunity for the seldom seen Hog Deer.  Another highlight was to view nesting Lesser Adjutants, an ugly and endangered stork, related to the Marabou Storks of Africa (see photo for a face only a mother could love).

As an aside, in the interior of Corbett National Park, and here at Chitwan, where there is no refrigeration and the electricity may run half the time, making cold beer unavailable, I have been drinking a Nepalese dark “oak-aged” Rum which I find far more palatable than the local whiskey.  Even here in Nepal I find the Indian food very good.  Tomorrow I fly back to India, to Kolkata for a couple of days, and from there up to Assam in the far northeast to join my Canadian friend Ken Pease and his wife; we will visit the Kaziranga National Park and then head south to central India.  Later.  Dave

 

Report On Jaipur, Sariska NP & Corbett NP, India, Feb. 7, 2015

Since my last posting, I have visited the more famous tourist spots of Jaipur, in Rajasthan, as well as the small National Park of Sariska, and the first of the great Indian National Parks and Tiger Reserves, Corbett, in the Himalayan foothills.

First Jaipur:  I traveled to the “Pink City” where I spent just a couple of days, as I have visited it before, although many years ago.  My favorite site before, and still, is the Amer Palace sitting within the outside confines of the great Amer Fortress, about 10 kilometers from Jaipur.  This was the capital of the leading Rajput clan from the 11th to the 18th century.  The setting is still one of the most dramatic in India.  Within Jaipur, of course the Hawa Mahal (Wind Palace) must be visited just for the exterior view, one of India’s most memorable after the Taj, and the City Palace where the Maharaja of Rajasthan still resides.  Beside it is the Jantar Mantar, one of the many great 18th century observatories built by the Maharaja Jai Singh, with its giant calibrated and extremely accurate stone instruments for tracking all planetary positions (for astrological as opposed to astronomical purposes).

From Jaipur I traveled to the little visited Sariska National Park, with its few tigers, but abundant other wildlife.  I was situated in a small hotel with a dirt road running right along the Park’s western boundary, and spent one entire day walking along paths just outside and within the Park.  Of the larger wildlife, I was constantly surrounded by the Nilghai (Bluebull), the second largest antelope in the world.  One large male, who was very close to me, kept issuing alarm calls as he could not spot me, and was troubled by a Rufous Treepie sitting on its ear trying to pick ticks from the ear canal (see photo).  Within the Park, on safari ride with a customarily rowdy group from Australia (I think I was able to give better than I got – 3 months of practice a few years ago in the Outback trained me well), I finally got decently close to both the Bar-headed geese and the Painted Storks, both of which avoided me at Keoladeo.

From Sariska I traveled to Delhi, where I spent the night before the long drive up to the Jim Corbett National Park and Tiger Reserve in the Himalayan foothills.  The park is named for the great white hunter, Jim Corbett, who, in the early 20th century, tracked and killed more man-eating tigers and leopards than any other person.  He also spent some years in Africa as a “great white hunter”, and perhaps is the most famous of the genre in history.  In childhood I grew up reading his books telling the many tales of the different man-eating tigers he had tracked and dispatched;  these stories created lifetime memories and sometimes nightmares for a boy growing up in tiger infested jungles.  In his later years, towards the mid-century, he turned preservationist, as have so many famous hunters, and is credited with pushing for the creation of wildlife reserves; the Corbett National Park is the first and still largest of the many Indian tiger reserves now dedicated to the preservation of the endangered species.

My first day in Corbett I spent traveling to the very heart of the huge preserve to stay at the jungle camp of Dhikala, by Ramganga River and Lake.  Here is the heart of tiger-land, teeming with wildlife and birds.  It takes about 3 hours of jeep trail driving within the park just to reach the camp; I had hoped to spend at least 3 days here, but could only book one long day (and night).  From entry to exit of the park, in just over a 24 hour period, I spend 11 hours on private safari.  AND, did I mention I saw TIGER – TWICE, first in the afternoon ride, and again the next morning.  This was my first sighting of live tiger in the wild since some views of late night road-crossings in boyhood.

The first tiger was resting in the middle of the jeep track, with the setting sun in the background, and a herd of Spotted Deer just up the trail warily watching the tiger.  The tiger finally sauntered off in the general direction of the deer, and then into the jungle.  We moved the jeep up, and within 10 minutes the tiger reappeared from the edge of the jungle within just 20 meters of the jeep.  I must say, being alone in the back of an open jeep, with just the driver, and a tiger within a few bounds is exhilarating, and affected me more than the lions of Africa.  The following morning I again saw a tiger crossing a trail, perhaps the same tiger.  The central area around Dhikala also had a large number of other animals, including the endangered Gharial (Gavial) crocodiles, of which I previously wrote; they have been reintroduced into the Ramganga River and Lake, and seem to be doing well, but can only be spotted at great distance, together with the mugger crocodiles which are fairly common in the Indian jungle rivers.

My next three days at Corbett had been booked by the agency at an expensive resort, which, it turns out, is a destination resort for Indian families and conferences.  This “resort” turned out to be 23 kilometers of single track jeep trail away from the central town (and away from Park gates and the highway).  That 23 kilometers turned into 1 hour and 10 minutes of kidney-painful driving, EACH way; this before transfer by jeep from Ramnagar for the 10 to 30 minutes to the various gates to start the safari rides.   I was required the first morning to leave the hotel at 5am to get the 6:30 safari.  After some trouble I was able to rebook into a cheap hotel in the town of Ramnagar which suited me fine for the remaining safari rides.

Anyway, my next safaris all were into the Park, but none went so far into the interior as the great Dhikala site.  However, a great deal of wildlife is visible, including many Asian Elephants (wild, of course), Spotted Deer, the bucks with massive antlers relative to their small size, Sambar, Wild Boar, Great Hornbills, and a good variety of other birds, including 4 species of the brilliant colored  Minivets, the rarely seen Kalij Pheasant, and the impressive Grey-headed Fish Eagle and Changeable Hawk Eagle.   I have included a fairly large selection of wildlife and bird photos with this posting – and did I mention I saw TIGERS.

On a separate note, let me talk a little about forms of bureaucracy in the country which can boggle the mind.  All permits for such things as the Park entries, jeep safaris, all hotel registrations, and many other activities require a time-consuming filling in of forms.  All hotels, even the top tier ones, not only require for registration all passport and all Indian visa details (numbers, dates and places of issue and expiry) but full addresses, telephones, India arrival and departure dates, places just arrived from and next destinations etc. – and these must be hand-filled in, in painstaking detail, in giant ancient style ledger books, with multiple tiny columns into which one must try to fill entire addresses into boxes the size of this word “addresses”.   And then the government form comes – requiring of foreigners again all the same information as filled into the ledger – this government form must be hand filled out in triplicate, by the foreigner, written onto old-fashioned sheet forms with carbon paper used in between the different colored sheets.  Safari bookings require such ledger book detail, then the filling in of the permit paper itself – and on arrival at the Park gates, one again must show the passport and fill out another ledger book.  Nowhere, except at a large Delhi and Agra hotel, have I seen a computerized system.  All restaurants in the large hotels also have a person sitting behind a desk who hand-transfers all one’s order information into a large ledger, and onto separate sheets, which then are taken to the hotel registration desk to be stapled to the room information.  Almost every third-world country I have visited has better systems, including computers, at the more expensive establishments.  I never would have thought India, with its huge technology universities, could be still so completely mired in a form (pun intended) of such outdated record-keeping, mostly dating back to the British Raj of the first half of the 20th century.

I have returned today to Delhi to spend the night before my airport transfer in the morning to fly to Kathmandu for 9 days in Nepal.  As I only rarely have had internet access, even in the fancy “resorts”, I do not know when I again will be able to make a posting.  Later.  Dave

 

 

 

 

Travel Report on Agra, Keoladeo NP & Ranthambore NP, India, Jan. 30, 2015

Hello everyone.  Again I have been many days without internet access, so am forced to file travelogues less often; more pictures per report for those who may look at the site just to glance at the pics.

I visited a number of sites in Agra, mostly Mughal tombs, but just one so overwhelms all others it demands exclusive prominence – that of course is the Taj Mahal, a World Heritage Site, and considered by many as exhibiting the most beautiful architecture in the modern world, often said to be the 8th wonder of the world after the original 7 of the ancient Greeks.  It is, as you know, the tomb of the favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, of Shah Jahan, the fourth of the 5 great Mughals who ruled much of India during the 16th and 17th centuries.  Shah Jahan was later overthrown by his own son, Aurangzeb, and incarcerated for the rest of his life in the Red Fort of Agra, and later buried beside Mumtaz in the Taj.

The building is instantly recognizable by all, but the intricacy of the white marble inlays of Koranic verses on the front and precious stone throughout, together with the carved curtains throughout the interior, simply defies belief that such effort could be expended.  Though it is very large, unlike the pyramids it does not awe with size, but with an apparently perfect form at distance and intricacy close-up, both coupled with the large scale.  I have included 2 pictures, one just a classic view, though it is one of my combination photos which will print to a very large size for a possible wall hanging – it shows the Taj during the very brief 40 minute period in mid-afternoon when the fog just cleared sufficiently for the sun to briefly brighten the view.  The second shows a section of the interior carved curtained marble walls, inlaid with semi-precious stones, which surround the cenotaphs themselves.

From Agra I traveled by private car and driver to Bharatpur, a small town alongside the world famous World Heritage site of Keoladeo National Park, the best known and best of bird parks in India.  It was once flood plain owned by the Maharaja of Bharatpur who built a dam and annually flooded the area in the mid 18th century.  This created lakes and marshes which for over two centuries attracted over 350 species of birds, many migratory from the northern tundra and parts of China and Russia.  I was able to locate and hire a couple of different expert bird guides, and spent 2 full days within the park by foot and bicycle rickshaw exploring the 12 kilometers of road and trails.  I especially enjoyed the Yellow-footed Green Pigeon flocks, and the brilliantly colored Spot-billed Ducks, as well as the large numbers of mammals including Sambar (aka Swamp Deer), Spotted Deer (aka Cheetal), Nilghai (aka Blue Bull), wild boar, Jungle Cat (aka Swamp Cat) and Indian Jackals (these jackals are much larger than those in Africa and very much resemble Timber Wolves – see picture) (Sorry for all the aka’s, but for those interested, many of the Indian animals and birds have gone by multiple names in the recent past, and may be known by many under only one of the many names).

From Bharatpur I traveled to Ranthambore National Park, which lies within another previous Maharaja’s private lands, and covers hundreds of square kilometers of heavily jungled and mountainess countryside.  It is one of the best known and most successful of India’s efforts to save the tiger; the park has doubled the number of resident tigers to almost 50, and some of its tigers have been relocated to other parks where the species went extinct through mostly habitat loss and poaching for illegal trade to China (where it should be noted all rhino horn and most elephant tusks also illegally go, threatening 2 of the 3 species survival).

Unfortunately, the hotel booked for me by the agency again did not meet minimal expectations.  It was an attempt to copy the great tent safari camps of Africa, with included bathroom; however, tents with openings with broken and non-functioning zippers, with no heat during very cold weather, and mostly with only 10 liter hot water heaters, which are rated to just fill the plastic buckets provided in the bath area so one may use a cup to douse oneself with warm water in an effort to bathe, was not my idea of a pleasant 4 day stay.  I did not bathe for 3 days, as the weather remained foggy and very cold – on the 4th day sunshine minimally heated the tent, and by ordering delivery to my tent of a second plastic bucket of hot water, a bath was accomplished.

The park itself is an impressive area of dry jungle covering steep hilltops and large valley floors, with several small rivers and seepages providing year-round water.  It is filled with two types of antelope and two types of deer, both common to India, the Indian Gazelle (Chinkara), the Nilghai (Blue Bull), the Spotted Deer (Cheetal) and the large Sambar (Swamp Deer).  These all exist in large numbers which, along with the habitat, supports the population of almost 50 tigers and about 90 leopards.  Unfortunately, sightings of the big cats is exceedingly rare, as both are nocturnal and all safaris into the park are daytime.  The Park is so popular with tourists now, including huge numbers of Indians, that the government, which controls all ingress and egress, allows only a limited number of ranger led jeeps and trucks into 10 different zones which are somewhat allocated randomly.  The experience is cheapened by the sheer number of jeeps and trucks always converging on the same spots, the loud discussions between the jeep rangers and drivers, and the constant feeling that all other wildlife is just to be briefly glanced at while the rangers try to show their prowess at looking for tiger tracks and discussing the most recent sightings (always the spot where the jeeps converge for the next 2 days, as if being close to where someone recently saw a big cat will somehow make our experience richer).  Pretty much daily there would be a report of a tiger sighting; even if true, with some 80 jeeps and a similar number of trucks permitted inside the Park each morning, and again each evening, I figure the odds of being in a group to spot a tiger is somewhere in the range of 1 or 2 in 100.

I was going to visit the famous and huge Ranthambore Fort, perched on top a huge mountain inside the park, but learned locally that within just over an hour’s drive of Ranthambore was one of the Chambal River Gharial Sanctuary areas.  Gharials, aka Gavials, are very large fish eating crocodiles (as large as Nile Crocodiles), recognizable by their very long narrow snouts.  At the top end of the male’s snout lies a huge bulbous knob.  There are fewer than 250 Gharials in the wild remaining in the world today – this definitely puts them in the critically endangered category, and likely to go extinct in the near future.  I hired a private diesel jeep and driver for the short but difficult ride to the river.  Along the river are no towns, and just 2 very small tent camps, though no one was staying there.  I had my hotel call to pre-arrange a boatman and guide at the river.  We took an hour and half ride around the junction of two other rivers into the Chambal River, which is the only river in India with remaining Gharials (the other lies in Nepal).  The local population counts just 26, including young – I was able to photograph 13, including one of the 2 large males.  It was sobering to then realize that within a 40 minute period I had witnessed and recorded over 5% of the entire population of Gharials remaining  in the world.  I saw no evidence that other tourists visit often – it is not advertised, and is certainly not easy to get to.  We also saw a number of Muggers, large crocodiles while more closely resemble the Saltwater Crocs of Asia, but with much broader snouts (which somewhat resemble American Aligators); the Muggers are infamous for filling the rivers of India 100 years ago, and killing a great deal of livestock and occasional humans.

I have somewhat re-arranged the next portion of my trip.  I was to travel to Udaipur after Ranthambore, but after looking at the extremely long drive times each way, I cancelled the Udaipur leg, and arrived in Jaipur 2 days early.  From here I have added a new small National Park, Sariska, to my itinerary.  I will report on these in the next installment.

Indian food remains excellent – definitely better generally here than what is served in the hundreds of Indian restaurants that now fill most cities in the US.  I have pretty much settled on drinking Kingfisher lager beer (what is here labeled “heavy” beer is somewhat akin to an overly sweet malty light stout, and not good to my tastes).  As the hotels charge exhorbitant prices for beer, I am in the habit of having my driver pick up the beer and keep it in a cooler in the back of the car so I can pop a couple of cold bottles each evening.

Till later, Dave

 

Report from Delhi, Varanasi, Sarnath, Khajuraho & Orchha, India Jan. 18, 2015

On Jan. 6 my flight left Tucson, arriving in Delhi Jan. 8 at 1:30 am.  Without much thought, I had booked my first 4 nights hotel for the 8th through the 12th, missing the fact I was arriving at the hotel in the wee hours of the morning on what for the hotel was the night of the 7th.  They found me a small room in the hotel next door which served for my first few hours rest.

The airport arrival was somewhat memorable; this time of year all of north India is shrouded in heavy fog at night and sometimes all morning.  The newspaper the next morning stated that over 50 flights had been unable to land that night.  On my British Air flight, half an hour before landing, the pilot announced to all passengers that all electronic devices of any type must be turned off, as we would be making a long approach, landing entirely by instruments, as visibility due to fog was effectively zero – he quickly added that we were not to worry.  That final admonition was not followed by most of us.

For those of you reading this who do not know or remember, India is where I grew up, from ages 3 to 17.  My parents lived in Maharashtra State (the old Bombay State) in central India, and I spent 9 months of most years 1,000 miles south in a boarding school in south India.  I last visited India in 1982, so 33 years have intervened.  I will spend close to 3 months on this visit, almost all pre-arranged.  The second 6 weeks of the trip I will be joined by my old boarding school room mate and best friend from long ago years, together with his wife (Ken and Anna) – and the last week we will travel to the town of our old boarding school where we will meet up with 7 more old class mates.  In the interval, I will travel much of northern India and Nepal, meeting my friends in late February in Assam.

Delhi was cold and foggy pretty much the whole four days, with some moderate clearing in the afternoons.  My first full day I spent hours in the wonderful National Museum, which is not much visited by tourists.  This is the repository of many of the great works of the Harappan Civilization (also known as the Indus Valley or Mohenjo-Daro civilization) –  considered one of the 3 earliest civilizations of humanity – most of the ceramics and bronzes date from the 28th – 21st centuries BC, though the ruins and civilization date back much further.  What really surprised me was to find 3 of the most interesting bronzes (see picture of rhinoceros) to be from a site in Maharashtra, the state I grew up in – I certainly had not realized the Harappan civilization in the 21st century BC extended into central India.  The museum also contained a room of artifacts of the great Mauryan Dynasty of the 4th and 3rd centuries BC, which greatest ruler was King Ashoka, who turned to Buddhism and probably ensured the lasting reach of that great belief system.  The remaining rooms contained wonderful stone carvings of gods and religious themes from the Shunga Dynasty of the 2nd C BC through the last 2,200 years.  I have included a handful of photos to give a sense of the artifacts.  A long walk through this museum, as with the Egyptian Museum of Cairo, conveys better than most other archaeology museums on earth the great antiquity of mankind’s settlements.

My third day I, unfortunately, got a good case of food poisoning, apparently from the little tandoori restaurant nearby which displayed its roasted fowl hanging unrefrigerated in the window, and spent the day unpleasantly in bed.  This gave me just one day to try a number of the major tourist sites, all of which I last visited 33 years ago.  With the perpetual foggy weather, great photos were not generally in the cards.  I hired a private car and driver, and visited just 4 sites.  First was the Red Fort and nearby Jama Masjid Mosque, both built by Shaw Jahan – who also built the Taj Majal and Agra Fort.  We then traveled to south Delhi to the famous Qutb Complex, the first of the 7 cities of Delhi, built in the 11th century;  its MInar Pillar rises over 230 feet and is covered with Koranic verses – an early wonder of India.   I read that a later historian lamented it presents a hint to the modern eye more of a factory chimney, something that smoke should be emerging from – I think this is unnecessarily unkind.  Finally I visited Humayun’s Tomb, a Mughal predecessor to Jahan’s Taj – the overall form of Mughal  garden tombs is well represented here.

On Monday I flew to Varanasi.   This is where my agency-pre-booked trip commenced, and it was a most unfortunate start.  Without going into many details, suffice it to say the hotel was not just unsatisfactory but completely unacceptable in every way, including cleanliness, bed covers, hot water, food service, staffing and access.   Being festival time prevented my private car for two days from getting closer than 1 km from the hotel, and as I had limited time, changing hotels would have prevented sight-seeing.  This unfortunate situation cast quite a pall over my stay and left me fairly depressed.

I did a sunrise boat on the Ganges River, visiting all the ghats from south to north.  Varanasi (aka Benares) is the holiest city of the Hindus, with its ghats (wide stone stairways descending from the banks into the river and lined with temples) filled in the morning hours with sadhus (holy men) and all manner of bathing and worshiping men and women, along with cows, goats and, of course, tourists.  The city is perhaps the most ancient living city on earth, with passageways and sections said to date back 4,000 years.  The heavy fog prevented any kind of sunrise photography.  I did get some decent photos of the colorful people doing there morning ablutions from the ghats.  The river water is not just dirty from the multitudes of pilgrims and residents who daily bathe in the holy water, and from the endless and countless remains of the dead being scattered into the river after cremation on the holy banks, but also apparently from a number of factories upstream which permit heavy metals to pollute the waters.  Still, I understand that most Hindus believe it is purified and safe for bathing and even consumption due to its holiness.  On the southern and northern ghats are crematoriums, the famous “burning ghats”, where countless Hindu dead are cremated in the open upon the banks of the river, the remains to be scattered into the river, believed by the devout to end the cycle of necessary reincarnations.  Indeed, thousand of men and women travel to Varanasi in their old age, to live out their final years alone perhaps begging in temples along the ghats, so that they may die and be cremated in this holy place.

The second day we drove north of Varanasi to Sarnath, the site where Buddha gave his first discourse upon becoming fully enlightened.  The archaeological ruins date from the 3rd century BC, when the Mauryan King Ashoka built the Ashoka Pillar here, with the famous 4 headed lion, now the symbol of India.  The site is headquarters for an amalgamation of three great religious traditions, Hindu, Buddhist and Jain, and the construction of monasteries and temples reflecting all three belief systems continued here for 1,800 years.  It still is a holy site for all three religions, and draws pilgrims from all over the world.  The head of the Ashoka Pillar, which stands in the site’s museum, is alone worth the visit – unfortunately no photographs are allowed in the museum – I don’t understand why, as the National and other museums permit photos, and indeed do quite well financially by charging double the foreigner entrance charges for a permit to use a camera.  An interesting aside – I do not think I previously appreciated the fact that the Buddha, upon seeking and ultimately achieving enlightenment, realized the all important principal which requires releasing all attachments to worldly goods and all forms of emotional and other ties and commitments, for it is from these attachments that all fear and desire arises, which prevents enlightenment;  therefore, as his first step to enlightenment, the Gautama Buddha fully and permanently abandoned his young wife and newborn infant child.

From Varanasi,  on Thursday, my driver and I did the very long journey to Khajuraho;  the highways in India always are very slow, but on this route, practically the entire road system is undergoing years of renovation.  We drove straight for 11 hours averaging barely 20 miles per hour.  Khajuraho, a World Heritage Site, contains the complex of famous Hindu temples built by the Chandella Dynasty in the 10th and 11th centuries.  The temples are monumental and inspiring from a distance, but it is up close that the revelation emerges for their real reason for fame.  The outer walls and basements are covered in fully three-dimensional panel friezes, carved into the tan colored sandstone – the intricacy is staggering.  It seems every god and goddess in the Hindu pantheon is represented hundreds of times in an unbelievable array of scenes.  The temples also are infamous for their stark portrayal of very explicit sexual scenes – all forms and manner of intercourse positions, oral sex, masturbation, sodomy and bestiality.  The meaning of these portrayals is debated and simply not understood.  My Rough Guide book, though, did provide me with some wonderful quotes displaying the British Victorian view of the temples upon discovery in the mid-19th century.  The first systematic survey undertaken by Sir Alexander Cunningham concluded the sculptures to be “highly indecent and most of them disgustingly obscene.”  Any wonder that todays guides trek around with their tour groups to point out each and every instance of these most indecent panels.

Yesterday we drove the short distance from Khajuraho to Orchha, a medieval ghost city of the Mughal Bundela Dynasty, with mostly 15th and 16th century palaces and buildings spread over a few kilometers within hardwood jungle along a river bank.  It is somewhat eerie to walk along the abandoned pathways meeting derelict building after building standing crumbling in the countryside.  The flowering shrubs attracted numbers of the tiny but brilliant Purple Sunbirds, the Asian answer to America’s hummingbirds.  At the entrance I photographed a number of primates hanging around the walls.  Although the Rhesus Macaques (Rhesus Monkeys) and the Grey Langurs (Hanuman Monkeys) both are common Indian residents, in the forests and around towns and temples, I never have seen them interacting together.  The dominant males occasionally displayed aggression toward males of the other species, posturing for position on a favorite stone outcrop, but I never saw actual contact.  The small current village of Orchha contained a traditional market square set beside the largest Chandelan temple ruins and the brightly painted modern temple.  It presented wonderful opportunities for photos of street vendor transactions, and two grand wedding processions with drummers and dancers.

I have been eating nothing but Indian food, of course.  Generally very good.  Alcohol is sometimes a bit of a problem to procure.  The large hotels tend to serve it, but for exorbitant prices.  Some towns have small liquor stores where at least beer and cheap whiskey can be purchased.  More than an occasional shot of the cheap whisky does not sit well with me.  Orchha does not permit any alcohol sales in the town; my driver yesterday found a black-market dealer from whom I purchased 2 bottles of the mysteriously named “Vasco 50000 Super Strong Beer” – not particularly good, but preferable to the Indian whiskey, and to the Indian wine which I have not tried, as the cheapest bottle runs $15.  I may try wine soon, despite the price.  Generally I have found the lager Kingfisher to be an ok beer if it can be purchased.

Outside of my hotel in Delhi, I have had internet access only once, at the hotel in Khajuraho, and had to pay $4 a day for that.  So although I write this report on the 18th, I am not sure when I will be able to upload it and photos to my website.

From Orchha, we travel tomorrow to Agra, where I will pick up a new driver to take me onward into Rajasthan.  Later.  Dave

Brief Report on Mesa Verde, Crow Canyon & El Morro Rock Art, Aug. 16, 2014

Hello all.  After a month on the road around 4-corners, I have returned home to a hot and stormy Tucson – on Thursday afternoon, in less than 30 minutes, we had a huge rainfall just over the few blocks around my house.  An official local rainfall meter just blocks away showed over 3/4 of an inch.  May not seem like much to some of you, but that is 10% of our annual rainfall, in half an hour.

Since my last posting I visited just 3 new sites of some interest, so have little to report and few pictures.  I have visited Mesa Verde National Park many times in the past, and it remains one of the most fascinating accessible areas for viewing Anasazi archaeological sites, including many remarkable late Puebloan III period cliff dwellings.  This trip I just made one quick pass to hike into the main petroglyph site in Mesa Verde.  Not much – just one single panel with a number of zoomorphic petroglyphs which modern Hopi elders (descendants of the Anasazi) claim to represent the various clan symbols of the people who  lived on Mesa Verde 8-14 centuries ago.

From Cortez I spent one long day driving down into north-central New Mexico, including some 50 miles round trip of washboard dirt roads, to the Crow Canyon, a side canyon to the Largo Wash.  The area currently is BLM land, and covered with operating oil and gas well pumps, but from 1600-1750 was part of Dinetah, the traditional home to the Navajo.  The canyon is known for perhaps the best existing Navajo rock art from the period of Navajo occupation.   Although “known” and discussed online, the actual visitors to the site are few; in the sign-in logs, I found no more than 5 visits per month registered within the recent past.  Some moderate hiking is required to get to the various panels.  The rock art all consists of petroglyphs, most on sandstone with a reddish patina, making for rather colorful figures.

My last full day, I stayed in Gallup, and visited the El Morro National Monument and the Zuni Reservation.  El Morro is a large sandstone bluff outcropping and mesa in north western New Mexico.  It is unusual in that at the base of one of the cliffs is a perennial spring which feeds a small pool  of water.  This of course has attracted travelers probably for millennia.  The mesa top has the ruins of two separate and very large pueblos of the Anasazi (in this case ancestors of the Zuni).  Atsinna Pueblo, the larger of the two, contained over 800 rooms around 1200.  Very little archaeological work has been done at the ruins.  Around the base of the bluffs, the lower cliff faces are covered with the “graffiti” of centuries.  Higher on the walls are petroglyphs of the Anasazi, but below them (reachable from todays ground level) are hundreds of inscriptions left by travelers and explorers, the earliest of which was left in 1605 by the first Spanish “governor,” Oñate,  who set up camp here in the late 1500s.  Hundreds of Spanish inscriptions follow for the next 200 years.  The first English inscription was left in 1849, and misspelled the word “inscription” by leaving out the “r”.  A much earlier and lengthy Spanish inscription originally described the subject as a “Christian gentleman”, but subsequently had the word “gentleman” (caballero in Spanish) scratched out – no telling why, but a copy of the inscription made in 1849 showed the “correction” already made.  Interesting, and tough to make changes when authoring in sandstone.  Later. Dave