IN MEMORY OF A FELLOW TRAVELLER

Icons, Tinos Greece

I am writing this from the point of view of a traveller who has often landed in countries where I did not speak the language. Often times the airports can very intimidating and especially for a solo traveller as I so often am, a bit frightening. I have memories once of landing in Istanbul, with only five English pounds in my pocket and no return ticket. I'd come there to meet my Turkish boyfriend and had no idea of where I was, having left England quickly on his request, and hoping he'd got the cable telling him I was on my way. I knew nothing of the country let alone the language, and a woman alone arriving there (in the mid '70's) was a dodgy affair. All I can remember is all those men's eyes looking at me and realizing I was in a totally foreign place. Not only that it was the early days of terrorism and the Istanbul airport (which was mostly a collection of quanset huts) was completely surrounded by armed tanks and soldiers. (Remember "The Midnight Express"? That episode had taken place not long before this so they were not only looking for drugs but for arms as well as a plane had recently been hijacked. Fortunately for me, my friend was waiting for me. Otherwise I have no idea what else I'd have done. The closest Canadian embassy was in Ankara, some miles away. And I didn't even have enough money on me to get into the city let alone find a hotel.

That was only one of my many travel adventures. But I can say this, nowhere in the world was I abandoned, left alone in the airport without someone offering some help, or at least someone who I could ask for help (for somehow there is always someone around who might speak a little English.)

Monument, General Cemetaria, Santiago Chile

I have been on long, long flights and know the exhaustion you feel when arriving at your destination. So when it's a completely foreign destination, and you don't speak the language or know the customs and routines, it can be very daunting.

For this, I could relate in many ways to the unfortunate Polish man, Robert Dziekanski, when he arrived alone, after his very first long, long plane trip from Poland to my city, Vancouver B.C. Canada, so very far from his home, and got here to find nobody could speak to him (where where the interpreters that should be at an International Airport), nobody offered a helping hand to guide him, nobody offered him food, water or assistance while he waited for hours and hours stuck inside the arrivals and immigration control while his poor desperate mother looked for him in the arrivals lounge. Nobody offered her any help either, and in fact told her that he hadn't arrived so after more than 10 hours of fruitless waiting, she returned to her home in another part of the Province. Meanwhile, her confused, frightened and desperate son grew more and more agitated until airport Security was called. Did they help him? No. They turned their backs on him. So the R.C.M.P. were called and the rest has been recorded on a video camera by another traveller and by now has been viewed around the world. Instead of helping the man, who was clearly in a state but threw his hands up submitting to the cops, they tasered him several times, jumped on him (four of them) and in a very few minutes he was dead.

This horrifying scene has been played out time and time again on the T.V. and pictured in the newspapers. Every time I've seen it or read about it I cry. What a terrible thing to have happened. What a disgrace. This man was immigrating to Canada hoping to start a new life. His suitcases were full of geography books and atlases. He had high hopes of finding employment and enjoying a new start with his mother who had waited for so long for him to come. He was not a terrorist. He was not a dangerous person. He was not drunk or on drugs or mentally ill. He was simply over-tired, hungry, exasperated, unable to communicate in English and nobody employed at the airport tried to help him except one woman who spoke quietly to him and had him calmed down just before the police arrived and tasered him, not once, but perhaps four times. And not only that, the airport did not call their own medics but phoned out so there was a long gap in time. Nobody tried to resusitate him. They left him to die.

Is this the kind of welcome you would want or expect when arriving in a foreign country?
Certainly not. And we should be ashamed of what happened to this man and make sure this never happens again.

Sunset over English Bay

There have been memorials for Robert Dziekanski. One was held in his mother's city, Kamloops, and another was held at the Vancouver International Airport. Hundreds of people came to remember him and grieve over what happened. I couldn't be there, so this is my memorial. Rest in peace, dear Robert. And may your mother somehow find comfort knowing how much we all cared.

THE ADMIRAL'S ISLAND #4

This is the view from Campfire Rock where every evening campers would sit around a fire and sing camp songs.

Keats Island is forested and there are many beautiful trails through the woods. This is the trail going to Salmon Rock.

Salmon Rock is well known as a popular fishing spot. We used to go on my father's little boat around the point and fish for salmon.
This day my son and I and our friends (also former islanders) had a little picnic and reminisced about all our happy times on the island.

THE ADMIRAL'S ISLAND #3

When my parents were involved in the Keats Island Baptist Camp, they met a 12 year old boy, Jimmy, who had cerebral palsy. He was a ward of the Social Services and lived in a home, like an orphanage. He had been sent to the summer camp along with several other children who were in the care of welfare. My parents invited Jimmy to spend a weekend with our family in the City. He never went back to the Home again and lived with us as a foster child until his untimely death at the age of 21 of cancer. With money from his small estate, my parents purchased an old shrimp-fisherman's cottage on the island. The house was later renovated and a porch and patio added, all the flagstones laid by my parents, the electricity and plumbing and other amenities done by my husband. My parents took great pride in the house and planted gardens and shrubs all around. Their intention was to retire there. It was unfortunate that my mother died of cancer when she was only 53 so they never realized their dream and eventually (and unfortunately) the cottage was sold.
On a recent visit, my son and I were delighted to meet the new owners and to see how well the house has been kept over the past years. We were invited inside for a look around and were amazed to find many of the furnishings the same, just as if my parents were still there (as I'm sure their spirit still is).

There are many deer on the island and they are not shy of human intruders. This day several deer were munching wind-fall apples under the trees on the slope. The apple trees are what's left over of the old orchards that were planted by the early homesteaders.

Our cottage was up on the hillside with a beautiful view of the wharves and the water.

THE ADMIRAL'S ISLAND (contd)

In the early days of Keats Island, there was only a sternwheeler making regular stops at Gibsons Landing, across the from the island. Eventually a passenger service was started and the population of the isalnd began to grow, especially when the Union Stemaships started a run. Some of the homestead property was bought by the Baptist Church and lots were sold on lease with 12 acres set aside for a camp. In 1926 a man named Will Read came to the island and became the camp caretaking. He built himself a sturdy home called Readhurst which had asupurb view of the harbour. Later this house was sold to the camp and used for visitors and campers.

The provincial government built a large wharf and the camp built floats which formed a swimming pool for the campers.
My children and I have spent many happy summer hours swimming or fishing off this wharf.

When I first moved to British Columbia, my father, a Baptist minister, took an active part in the camps during the summer. My mother also worked as camp nurse. I attended summer camp for several years. And eventually my family bought a small cottage on the island where my parents planned to retire.

THE ADMIRAL'S ISLAND

On a quiet July evening in the year 1861 a British 74 gun ship, the Superb, under the command of Capt. Richard Keats, broke from the rest of the British fleet and set out on a mission that was to become unparalleled in naval history. In 1860, the MMS Plumper, under the command of Captain Keats, arrived off the west coast of Canada on a mission to survey the coast for England. One of their ports of call was a little cove in one of the small islands of what is now called Howe Sound. He named the island "Keats Island". The cove where his ship lay anchor was named "Plumper Cove".

In the late 1950's, when my family had a cottage on Keats Island and were involved in the Baptist camp there, I wrote a self-published booklet about the history of the island titled "The Admiral's Island". Since then various copies of the text have shown up, one portion of it on this sign-board for the camp; another on a realtor's ad page; another in the Keats Island newsletter.

After Admiral Keat's discovery and survey of the island, for the following twenty-seven years, til May 1886, the island seemed forgotten and uninhabited. It was then that a retired naval lieutenant, George Gibson, dropped anchor off the beach at Keats. A year later he returned to the little bay and founded the town of Gibsons, across from Keats Island. The following year the first settlers came to Keats to homestead. It was the beginning of an exciting future for the Admiral's Island.

SUNSET AND MOONLIGHT ON THE RIVER

As we sailed out of Burrard Inlet, around Point Grey toward the Fraser River, this was the dramatic scene I captured as the sun set.

I'd never imagined I'd one day sail up the Fraser River so this was quite a thrilling part of the day's cruise. Here's a little tug pushing a log boom up the river.

And then! The most fantstic ending to our perfect day...a big full moon shining down over the River.

CRUISING BURRARD INLET

We left off some of the passengers at Deep Cove and sailed back up Burrard Inlet, under the Second Narrows Bridge that connects Vancouver with North Vancouver...

and past the city skyline to the Lions Gate Bridge that connects Stanley Park with West Vancouver.....

Vancouver has a beautiful sky-line. In the foreground are is the sail-like structure of the Canada Place convention centre and the docks for cruise ships.

The day was growing late but we continued our cruise all the way to Richmond where the yacht harbour is located.

CRUISIN' ON UP THE INDIAN ARM

Here's one of our pilots, Sita, steering the boat up the Indian Arm.

The Indian Arm is one of the gorgeous scenic places around Vancouver. There are many waterfalls tumbling down the mountain sides.

The serene beauty of the landscape made this one of the lovelist trips I made this summer. What a treat to cruise with Sita and Mike and their friends!

CRUSING UP INDIAN ARM

This summer some friends invited me to join them on a cruise up the Indian Arm, one of the fjords off the Burrard Inlet near Vancouver.
We started out from Deep Cove, eleven of us on a 35 ft. cruiser, for a fun day.

This is an old Hydro station on the way up the Indian Arm. It's quite a beautiful building set in this lovely mountain scenery.

At the end of the Indian Arm is the lovely Wikaninish Inn which, I believe, is still used for weddings and get-aways. We didn't go into any of the docks, but anchored out and had a barbecue right in the middle of the fjord.

A RAINY DAY IN AMSTERDAM

On my way home from Greece, I had an 8 hour lay-over in Amsterdam and wanted to spend most of it looking around the city. Unfortunately when I arrived there it was raining and cold and after leaving the 37+ temps of Athens it didn't take long before I was soaking wet and freezing so I had to return to the airport to wait out my time for the homeward flight.

I did get a little peek though, and one of the first things I saw when I walked out of the train station was this bike parking lot. Amazing!

This journey was really partly a 'canal trip' because I'd started out in Venice and ended up in Amsterdam. This is a view of one of the canals. In spite of the rain the photos turned out not too badly. But I wish I could have seen more of the city.

Here was an interesting little pub or bistro. I know there's lots of places like this in Amsterdam which I'd love to explore. So I've decided that the next time I'm Athens-bound I'll take a little stop-over. Maybe I'll be lucky and it won't rain!

ATHENS: SOME FAVORITE VIEWS

This is the Temple of Hephaestus in the Agora.
I think this is one of the most beautiful temples in Greece, and so well preserved. You can get an idea of how the Parthenon was before the roof got blown off by looking at this lovely building. The temple was built on the west side of the agora near where the foundaries and metal-work shops used to be. It was dedicated to Hephaestus, god of the forge, built about 449 BC by one of the architects of the Parthenon. It has 34 columns and a frieze on the side depicting the twelve labours of Hercules.

It doesn't matter how many times I have seen the Parthenon, it still gives me a thrill. They've done a lot of restoration work on it over the past few years as the marble was deteriorating. And there is still a lot of scaffolding around the structure, but it's interesting to take pictures of it from various angles. It was built around 400 BC and was the largest Doric temple ever completed in Greece. Unfortunately, during the Greek/Turkish wars part of it was accidently blown up as it was being used as an ammunition storage depot.
And later, the famous friezes were taken away by Lord Elgin. Now there's a new acropolis museum being built and the Greeks are trying to get those marbles back from England.

This is a view of the Acropolis from just behind the Pnyx Hill and it's one of my favorite views. I used to live just below the back slope of the Hill, in Plaka, and every day I would look up there and marvel. The "high city" was occupied from Neolithic times and people lived on the acropolis until the late 6th century B.C. After most of the buildings were reduced to ashes by the Persians on the eve of the famous Battle of Salamis (480 BC) Pericles set out to rebuild it. He transformed the Acropolis into a city of temples which has come to be regarded as the zenith of Classical Greek achievement. Interestingly, from where I took this photograph, the hill that was formerly the "deme of Melite"(the site of my birthday sunset picnic) was the location of the houses of the famous generals and orators such as Themistocles and Meltiades.

BACK IN ATHENS

After my trip to the islands, I went back to Athens for a couple more weeks of visiting friends and the local places of interest, such as the Zappeion and the National Gardens where I like to go for a shaded walk on hot, hot afternoons.

Or to climb the hill below the Acropolis and stroll through the narrow lanes of little Anafiotika, the tiny village built above Plaka.

Athens always amazes me. I can look at this view out over the terra-cotta roof-tops of Plaka toward Lykebettus and no matter how many times I see it, I marvel. I don't think I'll ever tire of Athens. It's my second home. And my heart is there.

OUR AMORGOS 'MIS-ADVENTURE'

Like Naxos, Amorgos has some very spectacular scenery. The road winds along the cliff-edge with breath-taking views of the sea below. The bus service isn't so great there, as far as trying to time things to make connections. We wanted to see the famous monastary carved into the cliff and the day turned into quite an ordeal. Looking back at the photos, though, I realize there were some fabulous Kodak moments. Yes, the sea really is that colour!

This is the famous Moni Hozoviotissis which we made a special trip to see. It's an 11th century monastary perched percariously on a cliff overlook the sea. A few monks still live there all year round. We had to walk up from the highway where the bus dropped us off, and climb a steep stairway. When we reached the monastary I discovered you had to be totally covered with a SKIRT, no - trousers wouldn't do! I had come all that way and couldn't get in! After waiting inside the shaded entry way for ages, a woman came down the steps and offered me her towel to wear as a skirt. But by that time the sanctuary was closed so I never did get to see inside. Then, when we made our way back down the stairs and along the road to where the bus stopped we discovered we'd missed the bus! That meant a long slog up the highway in the intense mid-day heat (not a speck of shade to be found) to the next town where we had to resort to a cab to get down to the town of Katopolo in order to find a bus back to Aegiali. By the end of that day we were not in the best of moods. However, a cooling swim, a relaxing time on the beach, and we got over our 'disappointment' of the day.

One of the best rewards of our island stay were the beautiful sunsets.