All posts by Davida Breier

Nothing to Get Excited About

February 26, 2016 Davida Breier Leave a comment

As Tolstoy once said, “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” We usually post here about happy traveling and, in doing so, many happy trips are alike. For a change of pace, I thought I would delve into that part of work travel that we hide from view: the mundane. For every excursion with a spectacular sunrise, perfect meal, and delightful museum, there is a rainy, hungry, and rushed trip.

At 5:30 a.m., when the alarm bleated my alert that the day was beginning, I was busy trying to convince Robert Carlyle that a lake was a loch and a white horse was a unicorn. Even Begbie looked at me like I was crazy and informed me he needed to return to his family. I awoke thinking, “Doesn’t matter – I had a conversation with Robert Carlyle.” I knew the sodden morning would mean a slow drive to the airport, so instead of getting up early and I found myself throwing make-up and clothes I should be wearing in my bag and hurtling out the door and onto I-695.

The security lines were almost non-existent, probably because anyone with a choice had decided that flying on a day when there were tornado, wind, and thunderstorm warnings from Texas to New York was a bad idea. I went through the scanner and the TSA agent decided I needed a full-body grope. It was thorough enough for her to discover that my tits are a lie of foam and elastic.

The flight to Louisville was only half-full and my colleague and I luxuriated in an empty middle seat. We arrived under stormy skies and picked up our rental car. We hopped onto I-64 and headed east. A little over an hour later, we arrived in Lexington, KY. The drive included rain, sun, dramatic clouds, and waterfalls spilling over the cut rock walls that line the highway. It also involved gusts of wind, tractor trailers, a trucker texting and swerving, and skipping lunch.

We did our work stuff and offered to take the people we met with out to dinner. I’ll admit to a bias. I assumed being in a college town meant that vegan options would be plentiful. Instead, I choked down a plate of leaves. I am vegan because I like animals, not because I like vegetables.

We left Lexington and drove back to Louisville. Once on the outskirts of the city, I stopped for gas and gulped down a bag of jerk-flavored kettle chips. (And also got a bag of hot chips, in case we had a long night ahead of us.)

We had already received the alert that our 9:00 p.m. flight was delayed, as well as texts and photos from our family members dealing with the crazy-assed thunderstorm that was battering the east coast. There was flooding and tornados all over our soon-to-be flight path. A violent thunderstorm in February…and yet the climate change-deniers persist.

With the temperatures now 20 degrees colder than when we arrived, we made it back to the airport about 7-8 hours after we had left it. I’ll give Louisville airport this – the car rental return was super fast, close and easy, and the trip through security was speedy and friendly. On the downside, most of the stores were closed by 7:00 p.m., and we had hours to kill.

We found our gate, where rumpled souls from the much-delayed 4:15 p.m. flight to Baltimore were still milling about. It was scheduled to leave at 8:30 p.m. Hmmm, I wonder?

With my most pleasant, earnest face I approached the gate agent. “We’re scheduled for the 9:00 p.m. flight that is now delayed,” I said. “Is there any chance of getting on the delayed 8:30 p.m. flight?” I closed with a winning smile that I hoped didn’t look vaguely threatening.

“Yes, ma’am, we can add you to the standby list.”

Twenty-five minutes later I was wedged in the middle seat (eating a snack from the Louisville Vegan Jerky Company), grateful to be going home and joyous that, instead of being delayed, we were headed out 30 minutes earlier than planned.

For all the perfunctory aspects of tedious travel, this still wasn’t a bad trip. From getting to know a new coworker and the unexpected waterfalls to new flavors of potato chips and getting on an earlier flight, these small moments were enjoyable. Then again, maybe I was just counting those frequent-flier miles.

*This is in no way an indictment of Kentucky. I’d love to explore the weird museums, distilleries, and attend the Harry Dean Stanton Film Festival.

California, History, Museum, Nautical

Maritime Museum of San Diego

February 9, 2016 Davida Breier Leave a comment

Several times each year, I attend work conferences that take me to cities all across America. Between educational programming, receptions, and catching up with old friends and colleagues, it can be quite exhausting. Still, I try to make the most of the small bits of personal time allotted by exploring points beyond the antiseptic confines of a conference hotel.

Given my limited free time, I assigned utmost priority to visiting the Maritime Museum of San Diego during a recent trip to that city – particularly the Museum’s centerpiece, the tall ship Star of India. The Museum bills the 212-foot “Iron Lady” – launched as the Euterpe from the Isle of Man in 1863 – as “the world’s oldest active sailing ship.” (NOTE: Following a recent overhaul, the wooden whaling ship Charles W. Morgan, built in 1841, left her home port of Mystic, Connecticut, for an extensive tour of the New England coastline. However, even if this fact muddies the superlative waters, that both ships are so well-maintained, never mind operational, is nothing short of commendable.) The Star of India hauled everything from salmon to timber to New Zealand-bound immigrants until her retirement in the 1920s. Following a half-century of idle decay, she put to sea again in 1976. Today, the Star tells her illustrious story (which includes collision and mutiny) through a host of exhibits both below deck and topside. Visitors may take note of the ship’s ubiquitous knot-work, whose decorative aesthetic was in fact secondary, in nearly all cases, to serving practical purposes.

But for me, the most pleasantly unexpected moment of my visit came aboard the in-this-case-aptly-named H.M.S. Surprise. You see, the ship, launched in 1970, is a replica of an 18^th century Royal Navy frigate, the H.M.S. Rose, a name she bore for the next three decades. A substantial portion of that time was spent berthed in Bridgeport, Connecticut. It was during this time that an uncle of mine volunteered on the ship, and in fact was aboard when she sailed for New York in 1986 in commemoration of the Statue of Liberty’s centennial.

At the dawn of the 21^st century, 20^th Century Fox purchased the ship for use in the 2003 film Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, renaming her H.M.S. Surprise. The Maritime Museum acquired the Surprise/Rose in 2006. But to this day the ship’s engraved bell belies her original namesake.

Other Maritime Museum highlights include the 1898 steam ferry Berkeley, which evacuated survivors of the great 1906 San Francisco earthquake to Oakland; the Californian, a replica of the 1847 Revenue Cutter C.W. Lawrence and the official tall ship of the state of California; the B-39, a Cold War-era “Foxtrot” class Soviet submarine; and the U.S.S. Dolphin, a deep-diving diesel-electric U.S. Navy research submarine decommissioned in 2007. Fans of all things nautical will revel in the Museum’s collection, unparalleled, in my experience, this side of Mystic Seaport.

Flora and Fauna, History, Nautical, North Carolina

The Road to Ocracoke Island

January 31, 2016 Davida Breier 2 Comments

With Sunday’s wind and lashing rain behind us, we decided to venture down Route 12 to Ocracoke Island. Saturday’s balmy weather was replaced by Sunday’s almost tantrum-like storm only to be followed by a clear, cold day. It was like having three different seasons on as many consecutive days.

We piled into the car, snacks at the ready, and headed south. Ocracoke Island is a little over 85 miles from Nags Head, but Route 12 isn’t exactly contiguous. Our first stop was Bodie Island Lighthouse, at the start of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore.

After crossing the Oregon Inlet Bridge the land becomes more sparsely populated, especially in winter. Inspired by the visit to the Outer Banks Beachcomber Museum, we stopped just after the bridge to attempt a bit of beachcombing. There were indeed a great many shells washed ashore, but unfortunately the winds were still blowing and the 20-ish degree temps drove us back to the warmth of the car. Continuing south we passed through Rodanthe, Waves, and Avon, eventually reaching Hatteras and the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.

Jan2016-VA-NC-0520 — Cape Hatteras Lighthouse

Patrick, a lover of all things nautical, has told me about the lighthouse for years, perpetually impressed that the lighthouse was physically moved. All 12-stories were shifted 2,900 feet inland in 1999 due to increasing erosion. The Outer Banks are barrier islands and as such, they are subject to the whims of the sea. If the sea decides she wants to reclaim the land as hers she will and as such, the lighthouse was in jeopardy. The lighthouse is open in summer and visitors are invited to climb the 257 steps.

We continued on to the ferry dock and got in line for the 11am ferry to Ocracoke. The ferry is free to the public, transporting locals and tourists daily. In winter the ferries run hourly, weather permitting. During the high season they run more frequently, with locals taking priority. The crossing takes about an hour and even in winter there were a fair number of water birds to watch – including gannets, cormorants, and several kinds of terns and gulls.

Ocracoke was frequented by Native American tribes, explorers, and pirates before being permanently settled in 1750. It was a favorite spot of Blackbeard and it is where he met his end at the hands of Royal Navy Lieutenant Robert Maynard. After 250 years, locals are now quite fond of Blackbeard’s tourism dollars.

Once off the ferry there is a long stretch of road with dunes threatening to overtake the blacktop. Our first stop was the pony pens, where the remaining descendants of horses brought to America by Spanish sailors still roam semi-free. The horses have been in the care of the National Parks Service since 1960.

We drove around the small town of Ocracoke. There are homes, vacation spots, hotels, restaurants, and more surrounding the natural harbor of Silver Lake. We found the squat Ocracoke Lighthouse and visited the grounds. Then we found some majestic looking roosters. We stopped at Books to Be Red, a local bookstore with an impressive array of sidelines and local goods. I added to my bird reference guides, Garnet found a Boxcar Children book, and Patrick found two local histories. The store and grounds were welcoming and Garnet played on the tire swing cut into the shape of a shark.

Jan2016-VA-NC-0576 — Ocracoke Lighthouse

It was warmer than it had been when we attempted to go beachcombing, but was nevertheless January and we walked across the street to The Magic Bean for coffee and hot drinks. Fortified, and with fresh reading material in hand, we headed north again.

It is easy to imagine how much fun it would be to visit the island in summer, but visiting in winter meant no crowds, no waiting to get on a ferry, no sunburn, and no traffic. Then again, the annual Ocracoke Fig Festival is in August and that sounds just weird enough to warrant another visit.

Museum, Nautical, North Carolina

Outer Banks Beachcomber Museum

January 28, 2016 Davida Breier 2 Comments

Having grown up near the shore, I’ve a great affinity for the small unsung museums that serve as the repositories for coastal lore and culture. Much like the beach in January, such places – like the Barnegat Light Historical Society and Museum, at the north end of Long Beach Island, New Jersey, which in a former one-room schoolhouse contains, among other artifacts, the original first-order Fresnel lens from nearby Barnegat Lighthouse – tend to draw those who most appreciate a place for what it is in and of itself.

While other attractions superbly highlight the area’s past within a greater historical context (e.g., the Wright Brothers National Memorial or the Lost Colony of Roanoke Island), the Outer Banks Beachcomber Museum in Nags Head provides a glimpse into the daily lives of the hardy souls who inhabited these parts long before mini-golf and timeshares.

When a Google search prior to our trip turned up the Beachcomber Museum, I was thrilled to have found such a hitherto unexplored nook. My jubilation, however, was quickly tempered by the chilly realization that, like many beachfront concerns, the Museum would most likely be closed in mid-January. Nevertheless, Davida, taking a shot in the dark, sent an email to the address on their website – and soon received a reply from the Museum’s proprietors, Chaz and Dorothy. They arranged a time for us to visit the museum during our trip. We were especially lucky because the museum does close for the winter, but they kept it open and heated the space just for our visit.

A cold rain fell as we drove down the beach road (NC Route 12), past shuttered summer homes left alone to face the wintry seas, to Mattie Midgette’s 1914 general store, which now holds the late Nellie Myrtle Pridgen’s collection of washed-up ephemera collected from the surrounding coastline over the course of the Outer Banks native’s 74-year lifetime.

Chaz and Dorothy warmly welcomed us. Following brief introductions, Dorothy, herself a cache of historical knowledge and local goings-on, took us on a tour of what in my experience is a most singular collection, the only one of its kind that I have ever seen, anywhere. Here, for example, you will find an expansive array of shells, sea glass, photographs, bottles (some dating back to the 1600s), Japanese glass fishing net floats, Trinidadian relics, and notes found in bottles, as well as several examples of fulgurites, the product of a lightning strike upon sand.

One of my favorite items was an elaborately embossed Guinness bottle from 1959 – part of an ingenious “message in a bottle” advertising campaign celebrating the brand’s bicentenary, wherein 150,000 of the special bottles were dropped into the Atlantic Ocean. Each one contained a memo “From the Office of King Neptune” that invited the finder to inform Guinness as to when and where they made the find.

Chaz, it turned out, is also a photographer, and though we paid no admission fee, we did purchase two of his prints, which help to support the Museum. I commend Dorothy and Chaz’s efforts to preserve a collection unlike any I have ever seen. This place is a must-see for Banks visitors new and old, and a fascinating glimpse into the lifelong obsession of one of the beach’s more vocal keepers and defenders.

Books & Writers, Flora and Fauna, Food & Drink, Lodging, North Carolina

The Outer Banks in the Off-Season

January 27, 2016 Davida Breier 2 Comments

The reason our anniversary trip is in January is rooted in economics. When Patrick and I decided to take our first trip money and time off from work were major hurdles to travel. We decided to take advantage of MLK Day, as well as off-season lodging and airfare. In the intervening years we learned to go warm places in January, which were more expensive, but they were warm and that was all that mattered. Last year we blew our travel savings on a trip to Ireland, which while off-season was still expensive. We also moved, so between the two things we went back to our roots and looked for a cheap trip we could take over MLK Day weekend.

We opted for a simple road trip. Going north would be colder, so we decided to go south. We hadn’t been to the Outer Banks together in well over a decade. It would be cheap in the off-season, slightly warmer, and the ocean is there, so the decision was made.

There is something to be said for the hearty souls who pronounce “open all year.” For them we are grateful. I do think that traveling in the off-season gives you a chance to experience the place and the local culture in a way that those who arrive and depart the high season would never dream of.

Lodging: In an effort to keep the progeny entertained and fed, as well as ourselves, we looked for local lodgings that had an indoor pool, kitchen, and a view. We found a place that offered all that for a relatively modest sum in the Outer Banks Beach Club Resort. It was cold and blowing much of the time, but we enjoyed DVDs we brought, enjoyable meals, a view of sunrise over the ocean, and a hot tub.

Meals: We cooked most of our meals at the hotel (resort?), but we managed two very memorable meals at two local spots – The Thai Room and Outer Banks Taco Bar. After a long day adventuring in Ocracoke (post forthcoming), we drove straight to the The Thai Room. The service was superb, even after they realized we were not another similar family with the exact same eating habits. Garnet enjoyed the fried tofu so much that he got an order to go. They have many vegetarian options and understand that hot means hot.

On our final day, we waited around Kitty Hawk until The Outer Banks Taco Bar opened. This ranks up there with the best decisions I’ve made in life. We ordered a round of appetizers and the fried tostones were so good that I would have just sat and eaten those until the end of time. Patrick and I polished off the tostones, while Garnet finished the chips and salsa. The homemade corn tortillas were the best I have ever eaten. Seriously. If you can get rice and beans right, you are doing it right, but the tortillas put it over the edge. I sat there wondering of this is what a goldfish thinks as it eats itself to death? I just wish we had eaten there earlier in the trip so I could have had more tostones. TOSTONES!

Entertainment: Driving into Nags Head Woods, the temperature was well below freezing with a bit of a wind. That said, I mused as I looked at the swamps if the bugs would be worse than the cold. And I like bugs. I wanted the ponds to be full of frogs and turtles, but the frost and winter light were beautiful in their own right. If you can enjoy this kind of place in the dead of winter, there is no excuse from missing it in spring when the world is alive.

During the storm that blew in on our second day, we hit the local bookstore before returning to the room to hunker down. Island Books has three locations, but we hit up Kitty Hawk. Patrick found the new Derf Backderf, Garnet found a Star Wars book, and I found an ARC and gift for a friend. A good selection all the way around.

Elizabethan Gardens is a 10.5 acre public garden located within Fort Raleigh National Historic Site in Manteo, NC. The gardens are lovely by day, but at night in the winter they come alive with lights, music, and even movies. We wandered around in the dark and came across a campfire and old holiday cartoons being projected. The holiday lights were extended due to inclement weather, but that meant we were able to enjoy them into late January.

While June would offer endless shopping and all sorts of beach-going, there is something about traveling to a shore town in winter. You have to want to be there. There is an appreciation for place that isn’t there when it is an easy landscape. And the year-round shops and restaurants are locals who want you there. Consider some off-season travel and avoid the maddening crowds.

Culture, North Carolina

Over the Next Dune

January 25, 2016 Davida Breier 3 Comments

The boy pestered me to jump.

I took off my shoes and rolled up my pants. The mercury was high for January – nearly 60 degrees Fahrenheit, and the sand was cool, though not quite cold, to my bare feet. But the sun warmed my bare arms as I surveyed the vast high dunes – at 80 to 100 feet, the East Coast’s tallest – of Jockey’s Ridge State Park, one of the many natural wonders to be found on North Carolina’s Outer Banks.

Now ready, I joined my son in taking a flying leap from the top of the park’s tallest dune while Davida snapped our pictures. We laughed hysterically as we tumbled down its sandy face, steep enough that visitors can hang-glide from the highest peaks. At 9, he’s the same age now that I was the first time I visited this place in the mid-1980s.

At 40, I didn’t hesitate when he insisted that we climb back up and do it again.

The unexpectedly warm temperatures helped to perpetuate the magic of these “walking” dunes, which are subject to the whims of the temperamental winds and water. The last time I was here, in the very early Aughts, the shifting sands had yielded the defiant spires of a medieval castle – the ruins of a miniature golf course swallowed whole by Jockey’s Ridge years before. Their present absence said the dunes had once again reclaimed their bounty. Indeed, like the act of traveling itself, the dynamic nature of a barrier island ensures a certain degree of spontaneity; you never know what you might find just around the next corner.

A few tumbles later, I suggested that we walk up the next dune – toward NC highway 158, which like a fish bone forms the central spine for vehicular travel along the Banks – for a better view of the surrounding town of Nags Head. We gathered up our shoes and made our way across this oasis of sand in a saltwater desert.

It was the boy, of course, who made the summit first. When I caught up, he was staring intently at yet the next dune over.

“Is that Boba Fett?” he asked, referring to the bounty hunter from Star Wars.

“What?”

“There,” he said, pointing to the next peak. “Is that Boba Fett?”

I wasn’t wearing my glasses, having shed them and every other lose object on my person before tumbling down the hill. Years earlier I had lost my wallet doing the very same thing; thankfully, a park ranger had found it a short time later and taken it to the visitors’ center, where I retrieved it.

I squinted at the next peak, bustling with an unseasonably large number of people. I surmised that my son must be referring to one particular form swathed in a dark brown blanket.

“No, sport,” I laughed, “that’s just someone trying to keep warm.”

“No,” he insisted. “That is Boba Fett! Look!”

This time one distinctive figure, gleaming white from head to toe, stood out among the group. No, not Boba Fett…but a stormtrooper! Now I looked again at the blanketed form, this time realizing that it was not, in fact, a blanket, but a cloak. Obi-Wan Kenobi! And there, in their midst, stood the unmistakable form of the bounty hunter, Boba Fett.

Davida, toting the rest of our gear, caught up with us. I put on my glasses, and we told her about the cast of Star Wars inhabiting the next dune. Davida, noticing Obi-Wan (note: we’ve since learned that this was not Obi-Wan, but a Jedi of the wearer’s own creation) now walking toward our dune, suggested we go find out what was up.

Turned out, members of 501st Legion Carolina Garrison OBX StormTroopers, 501st Garrison Tyranus, The Rebel Legion, and Mandalorian Mercs Costume Club, also taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather, had gathered for a promotional photo shoot on the shifting sands of Jockey’s Ridge, which, when carefully cropped, bears a striking resemblance to Luke Skywalker’s home planet of Tattooine. The full-costume groups regularly participate in charity events. Also on hand that day, among others, were the characters Rey and Kylo Ren from 2015’s Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens. The costumers proved very friendly, and they graciously agreed to take pictures with our son, amplifying an already memorable experience.

The sands grew cooler as the sun sank into Roanoke Sound, and I put on my shoes and sweatshirt as the fading daylight chased the troupe and its cameras farther and farther up the dune, the long winter light lending an air of drama to the scene. With the park closing at dusk, we decided to make our way back to our car. I remarked on the gorgeous sunset, in case Davida cared to photograph it, but doing so seemed a bit anticlimactic following our cinematic experience – one of those odd bits of happenstance that eludes the best-planned itinerary. Besides, further adventures awaited us, just over the next dune…

Books & Writers, Colorado, Culture, Food & Drink, Strange

Things To Do in Denver When You are Not Dead (But at a Scholarly Conference and Restlessly Curious)

June 20, 2015 Davida Breier 2 Comments

I flew out to Denver for a work conference, assuming the short (just over 50 hour) trip would be too jammed packed to offer enough fodder for a post. I was wrong and found Denver quite enjoyable. After a long cab ride from Denver International Airport (more on that later), I dropped my bags at the hotel and went out in search of food. Denver is amazingly vegan-friendly and had my pick of places. I decided on Watercourse Foods and devoured a plate of homefries, pancakes, scrambled tofu, and tofu bacon. I wandered for a while and eventually found myself at the opulent Brown Palace Hotel and headed into the Ship Tavern. I sipped a pear cocktail, read a zine, and filled out a few postcards. I enjoy these quiet, anonymous moments of solitary travel.

Sparkling Pear Cocktail: St Germain Elderflower liquor, Grey Goose La Poire, lemon juice, champaign

I returned to the hotel for the reception and dinner and decided I would maturely go back to my room and retire for the night. Thankfully a co-worker convinced me that was not in my best interest and cajoled me to go with her to a conference-related gathering. What had I been thinking?!

June2015-0943 — Top of the clock tower (16th Street)

June2015-0930 — Clock tower (16th Street)

June2015-5578 — Panorama of Denver after dark (click for larger image)

I’m glad she did, because I was not only treated to a view of Denver at night from the 22^nd floor of a clock tower, I got to watch a thunderstorm breaking around the city from that height. One of my travel loves is seeing, hearing, and smelling thunderstorms in different places. We were even allowed to climb the spiral staircase to the very top of the bell tower. Giving people drinks and then sanctioning this activity seemed overly trusting.

Despite the semi-late night, I was up at 6am and exploring the city before a breakfast meeting with a friend who lives in Denver. We met at City O’ City, where I had scrambled tofu smothered in green chile, queso fresco, cilantro, homefries, corn tortillas, and some warm house-made gluten-free bread. Breakfast foods, especially at conference hotels, tend to be very gluten-y and not very vegan-friendly, so this was a huge treat and kept me going all day. So did such a pleasant meeting and good conversation so early in the day.

There are waffles out there... — There are waffles out there…

I was busy with work stuff the rest of the day, but the next morning awoke once again at the crack of dawn. City O’ City’s menu called to me on the 21^st floor of my hotel room and I found myself wandering again, this time pondering the waffles I had seen on the menu. They make savory waffles. Waffles as food-food. This is perhaps the best idea ever. I ordered the “waffle of the week”, a tex-mex waffle topped with black beans, spicy peppers and onions, cilantro, a chipotle aioli, and avocado. It was one of the best meals I have ever had. Seriously.

I headed back to the hotel and got caught in the beginnings of the Pride festivities. Areas around the hotel were cordoned off with fences, but I made it back in time for the start of the sessions. I had a break and walked to Tattered Cover, a renowned local bookstore. Across the street is Rockmount, famous for their western wear shirts since 1946. They are well-made and very cool looking, but pricy and I ended up leaving empty- handed.

The airport is fairly far outside of the city, about 25 miles, and by Saturday afternoon we were all conferenced-out. I decided to leave a bit early with my boss and a colleague so I could explore the weird murals in what is a very weird airport. According to conspiracy experts, the airport is everything from a massive underground base providing safety to a new world order to a secret Nazi and/or Freemason site. It would appear there is an entire segment of the internet devoted to the DIA conspiracy (go ahead, Google it!). No matter what tin hat you are wearing, the airport is simply weird. Greeting you as you arrive at DIA is a giant blue horse sculpture with red glowing eyes dubbed Blucifer…that killed the sculptor. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.

Inside the baggage claim area are four wildly colorful murals by Chicano muralist Leo Tanguma that promote world peace and express fears of mass extinction, but first you have to get past a giant, threatening gas mask-wearing, sword wielding figure and a lot of dead and crying kids to get the message. The images show misery and death, a quote from a child who died at Auschwitz, a dead jaguar, and kids toppling the gas mask figure. I just can’t figure out how this got past a public art planning committee. I wonder what weary travelers make of these scenes? Here are the four murals and some close ups:

Children of the World Dream of Peace, by Leo Tanguma

Plaque explaining the mural: “Children of the World Dream of Peace is a powerful mural expressing the artist’s desire to abolish violence in society. One section of the piece speaks to the tragedy and devastation of war and its impact on humanity. The mural then moves on to images of smiling children, dressed in traditional folk costumes from around the world, celebrating peace prevailing over war.”

In Peace and Harmony with Nature, by Leo Tanguma

Plaque explaining the mural: “In Peace and Harmony with Nature references the social realist murals of Mexico while addressing a modern theme: the destruction of the environment. The first half of the mural shows children displaying great sadness over the destruction and extinction of life, as the second half of the artwork depicts humanity coming together to rehabilitate and celebrate nature.” Further reading: http://diaconspiracyfiles.com/2009/05/12/more-murals-by-leo-tanguma/ And then there is this part of the train system that looks inspired by ancient ruins.

The airport is HUGE. It takes up 53 square miles and you need to take a train to your gate. There are rumors of underground bunkers and speculation about who really built the airport. The runways are said to be in a deliberate swastika shape. I don’t know about any of that, but I do know they have a TCBY that has vegan soft-serve and that really helped the storm-related delays. Denver is a seemingly unassuming place with unexpected (and often peculiar) treasures.

Books & Writers, Colorado

Gap Year Girl, Fellow Traveler

June 19, 2015 Davida Breier 2 Comments

I’ve been in Denver for a day now and have found myself reminiscing several times about the last time I was here. It was 2009 and I had come out for a work trip with my boss and her counterpart. It was the most amazing 72 hours. But this post isn’t about that trip, it is about my boss, who is now simply my friend, Marianne, who helped expand my world of travel.

There are people who travel and then there are true travelers. Marianne is a true traveler. Thanks to our work trips we’ve hiked the Rockies in the snow, flown to Germany, and tipsily watched fireworks from the lawn of our hotel in Anaheim. She taught me about “doing the Frankfurt Book Fair” and I taught her to look for birds, even in urban areas. At one point we auditioned for The Amazing Race together.

So it was with great joy that I watched her shed her possessions, including her home and job, and fulfill a lifelong dream to travel Europe for a year. A gap year, only not a post-collegial trip, but post-career adventure.

Marianne and her husband, Joe, traveled to France and from there spring-boarded across Europe, with a brief sojourn to Morocco. They experience the highs – literally a hike in the Alps – and the lows – dreary, isolated winter days in medieval towns without wifi. Marianne posted about her trip in a blog and as readers we tasted the wine Italy, felt the sun in Greece, and smelled the fields of flowers in France. We met fellow travelers, helpful innkeepers, and local eccentrics. We got to know Marianne as much as we got to experience new places.

As someone who loves to travel, it was inspiring to see how an actual person I know could explore the world for a full year. I know that careful planning and spreadsheets were involved, but more importantly she made her leap of faith accessible.

Why am I telling you all of this? Marianne has written a book about the trip – Gap Year Girl: A Baby Boomers Adventure Across 21 Countries. I enjoyed following her adventure and I think you will too: http://mariannecbohr.com/.

History, Maryland, Museum, Strange

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death

April 19, 2015 Davida Breier 1 Comment

A friend I hadn’t seen in 20 years was coming to Baltimore. Her only tourist request was to see Edgar Allan Poe-related spots. We only had a few hours before her conference started, so the challenge was to put together a 3-hour tour (one that did not strand us on the island). The Poe House is closed until May 2015, so that left the graveyard at Westminster Hall and possibly areas around Fells Point.

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death

I knew of another delightfully macabre site not far from Westminster Hall, which I thought might make for a fun surprise, and asked for a tour. And so it was that early one Saturday morning we arrived at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner for a tour of the Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death. (Note to self – you should probably tell people why you are taking them to the ME’s office in advance.)

Bruce Goldfarb, Special Assistant to the Medical Examiner, graciously agreed to provide a tour on his day off. The Nutshells are miniatures of crime scenes – essentially dollhouses of death – created in the 1940s by Frances Glessner Lee. She’s one of the founders of forensic science. Each scene shows a corpse in situ and students are expected to deduce if the death is homicide, suicide, accidental, or natural. The answers to the cases are closely guarded and only a few have ever read them.

The 18 diorama dollhouses include barns, bedrooms, living rooms, apartment buildings, suburban homes, a bar, an attic, and more, all done on a 1-inch to 1-foot scale. The craftsmanship and attention to detail are unbelievable, from printed newspapers to blood-spatter and buckshot camouflaged on patterned wallpaper to working light fixtures. The windows open, clothes are aged, and shoes just sitting in a closet are hand-beaded.

Glessner created the scenes to train investigators how to study a room. In addition to the Nutshells, she also created models of bullet wounds – showing the impact on flesh using various distances and calibers. She used her substantial inheritance to not only create these teaching tools, but she also helped fund the creation of a Department of Legal Medicine at Harvard University. It was there the Nutshells were used until the department was disbanded in 1966. They then moved to Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Baltimore. They are still used to train investigators.

Highly recommended for lovers of that wondrous combination of history, art, and the macabre. Baltimoreans, next time you have an out-of-town guest, take them here instead of Café Hon.

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death
Office of the Chief Medical Examiner
900 W. Baltimore Street, Baltimore, MD 21223
Phone: 410-333-3225
Website: http://welcometobaltimorehon.com/places/museumsattractions/the-nutshell-studies-of-unexplained-death
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Nutshell-Studies-of-Unexplained-Death
Documentary: http://www.ofdollsandmurder.com/
Admission: Free
Hours: Call for tour

Flora and Fauna, Jamaica, Nautical

Under the Sea

March 29, 2015 Davida Breier 2 Comments

I spent as much time as possible snorkeling on the trip to Jamaica. No photo can replicate the peace of the ocean or what it is like to be surrounded by small fish who are as curious about you as you are of them. Nor can a photo capture delight and surprise when you see a new fish species or watch an eagle ray swim. But I still tried.