Who Says Old Ladies Can't Travel Alone? by Vonnie Davis #EuropeanTravel #TravelingSafe #Paris #Edinburgh

Some fool man recently said a seventy-year-old widow had no business traveling overseas by herself

Then he had the nerve to say, "Mom, I want you in your hotel room by nightfall. And don't use the Metro. Terrorists like to bomb those things."

Since when, I ask you, should a woman listen to a man--even if he is her baby boy? Needless to say, I packed my bags and went. I showed him! Baby boy, or not! Why...the nerve I mean, really, would you listen to a thing this guy would tell you?

So, here's the view from my hotel room in Paris. My hotel was across the street from the Seine.

Sorry about the glare from my windows.

Notice the grey cast? That's how I saw Paris this time. I didn't have Calvin to hold my hand as I visited our old haunts. Instead I walked new streets and checked out new neighborhoods. I made my own memories. For example, I took a bus trip to Giverny where Monet painted his famous water lilies. The gardens there were fabulous. A sight I'll never forget.

Monet's house was gorgeous inside and out.

Kelly, Calvin's son, flew in from Berlin to join me for two days to be there when I spread some ashes in front of the building where Calvin and Kelly's Mom lived for a year. I couldn't do it. I broke down and Kelly ushered me up the street, telling me I didn't have to do it that day. "We can come back tomorrow," he said in a calming voice reminiscent of his father's. Instead, we went to Calvin's favorite writing café and had espressos.

Notice my swollen eyes. That night I had a long talk with myself and actually looked at the ashes, something I should have done earlier...but... 

The next morning we went out for breakfast and then walked to 21 rue Galande. This time I was able to fulfil my promise to my beloved. A part of him will remain in the City of Light he loved so much. When Kelly left to meet his flight, he hugged me and told me I'd be all right. I laughed through tears and said, "Kelly, I've never been right in my life. I wouldn't recognize myself if I were." He was laughing as he strode away.

A few days later and I was in Edinburgh where the ancient castle of Scotland sits atop an inactive volcano. Some hills and current streets are formed of hardened lava. I walked the Royal Mile from the castle to the parliament building.

The view from my hotel room. The castle and the Royal Mile are on the hill. I took a bus tour to a whisky distillery, which makes the whisky preferred by Prince Charles. The Scottish spell whisky without the "e" and get a little pissy about those who mis-spell it with that "e" in it. I sampled aged whisky from ten to twenty-eight years old and doona recall much after that. 

Another day I took a bus trip to see the Kelpies and the Highlands. Kelpies are mythical creatures that live in the lochs (lakes) and rivers as monsters and come ashore as beautiful horses with long, beguiling manes. When anyone tries to touch the manes, they are dragged into the water. Here I am, standing in front of two iron sculptures known simply as "The Kelpies."

Our tour guide, Calum, in his kilt. He told us the Scots spelled his name with one "l" and the British with two--Callum. There's your trivia for the day.

And the "hurry coos" that grow in the Highlands... or hairy cows in American-speak.

So this ole broad walked through  ancient streets and beautiful European cities alone. I didn't get lost. I wasn't mugged or hurt by terrorists. OK...ok, so I was in my hotel rooms by dark. But it didn't get dark until nine at night, so... And who needs to ride the metro when there are taxis and comfy sandals. I did come home with four handbags, but each one called my name...honest.

I admit to being happy I'm back home. Evie was over-joyed to see me and I missed my little Shih-Tzu. In many ways I had a lovely trip and in an important way a very lonely one. I wouldn't mind visiting Scotland again, going to the more northern part of the Highlands. The best part was garnering some story ideas. Travel tends to do that. New sights mean an increased curiosity and "what-if's..." for a writer's imagination.

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At the Lake With Two MIT Dudes by Vonnie Davis #vacation #inovermyhead #greattimes

I'm back home from a week at Lake Marion in Santee, SC. As I mentioned in my last post, Mike, my baby boy (tongue in cheek here), and his wife Tina decided Kelly, his wife Katrin, and I should travel with them for some relaxation after the Celebration of Life for Calvin.

They rented a large SUV that hauled seven--Mike, Tina, Kelly, Katrin, Ryan, me, and Ryan's five-foot telescope to set up on Ron and Debbie's dock.

Ryan positioning his telescope for best night-time viewing.

Oh, and let's not forget packing in everyone's luggage plus Ryan's three laptops, guitar, trumpet, and Kelly's two laptops. The ride down was like MIT on wheels. Kelly did his undergrad degree there. and Ryan is halfway to his undergrad degree in Computer Engineering with a minor in Music technology. As the ride progressed my mind swirled with conversations about bitcoins, string theory, writing computer code, and Kelly's expertise at Mozilla--artificial intelligence. In rapid-fire communication, the two moved onto deep-brain thinking. What the heck is that and where do I learn how to do it?

Calvin would have been right at home. Me? I was in over my head and I'd yet to reach the lake. When I did, some adult beverages would most definitely be in order to clear my mind.

At a local Mexican restaurant--Tina's Dad, Ron, Mike (aka Baby Boy), and Margarita Momma

(note dazed and confused look from ride to Lake Marion). 

The days were filled with zipping up and down three lakes connected by channels in Ron's new boat or walking through historic Charleston just an hour away. Nights brought star and planet gazing. I saw Venus and Mercury. Ryan would play on the trumpet as we sat on the dock. Neighbors in this gated community would cheer and applaud. 

AND I woke up  one morning with a series idea! One that involved a book I've slowly been working on. Getting away and seeing new things really does help the creative bent of the mind. Mine had been in a tight knot of grief. Evidently it's starting to loosen.

I'm hoping my next trip will waken the Muse. Two weeks from now I'll be in Paris. Calvin had told me several times before he got so sick that he wanted some of his ashes sprinkled in a green space in front of 21 rue Galande. He'd lived there for almost a year while on sabbatical in a fourth floor apartment. Kelly thought it was a perfect idea. He's flying in from Berlin so we can do it together. Here's a picture of Calvin in front of the building, reminiscing.

I'm staying in Paris for a week. Since this will probably be my last trip there, I have a few art galleries I want to meander through.  Once I leave there, I'm flying to  Edinburgh, Scotland. After writing six books set there, I figure it's about time I got a look at the country. All my research has been done online or in travel books. Finally, I'll get to see the real thing. I've got day trips booked for the Highlands, a whisky distillery with a wee bit o' tastin', and Loch Ness. If my energy holds up, I want to take a train ride to Glasgow and check it out. Aaaaad a day at the Highland Games where guys in kilts do "manly stuff." Mainly because a woman would have more sense.

Since Edinburgh is home of the deep-fried Mars Bars, I'll be forced--forced, mind you--to eat a couple. All the while, I'll be soaking up sights, customs, and local color for future bear shifter books. Och, aye.

To read more about my writing, go to www.vonniedavis.com or follow me on Facebook. Vonnie Davis is the name...writing is my game.