Cusco, Peru is the imperial city of the Incas….a world within a world of Peruvian splendor. Why is Cusco so unique? It’s because it holds its own attitude and pride among a country which has so many fascinating landmarks and history. Even without knowing any historical background on Cusco, you will understand and realize so much about it when you arrive to the city.

First of all, descending into Cusco is already an adventure as it has one of the highest airports in the world. The wings of your plane look as if they are scraping the sides of the Andes mountains while the plane prepares to land. My excitement was as elevated as the Andes as the pilot maneuvered this landing. Inside the airport, the customs/immigration lines were entertaining as you could see costumed dancers nearby performing for the tourists. I was itching to get my camera out to snap photos of what I love best on trips—culture! Our hotel arranged pick up for us so everything went smoothly as soon as we walked outside.  Just a short cab ride to the hotel in the Plaza de Armas was stimulating as we passed squares of people engaged in presentations or parades. The steepness of Cusco’s streets is astounding. They introduced themselves to us in the most humorous of ways! The cab driver decided to drive backwards into the cobblestoned street of the plaza rather than drive us down and try to turn around in the square which is often not possible. We assumed this was going to be for a few feet. We were wrong! He drove backwards for four blocks. Patrick and I stared at each other, laughing at this maneuver which we hadn’t even experienced in the steep mountain towns of Greece.

Each little store or hotel in the plaza was entered through a narrow doorway on tiny sidewalks (if you could even call them that). An unprecedented detail in this hotel lobby was the daily offering of coca leaf tea next to the coffee. Coca leaf tea is a treatment for altitude sickness. Whether it works or not, it is delicious and it was a constant reminder that we were in an exotic city in the sky. The tea tasted like roasted bay leaves to me.  Plaza de Armas waited for us right outside our hotel door and she was a shimmering, sepia-toned architectural WONDER! Although the cathedrals, buildings and balconies were built with Spanish glory, the significant feature was that they were built on top of Incan foundations and streets. In some corridors of the plaza there were even men in Incan costumes providing photo opportunities along a historic Incan road. I began to sense an air of something…..a tension conveyed somehow that Cusquenos are impervious to the Spanish conquest. Cusco was, after all, the epicenter of Incan culture. Cusquenos still contain this pride of their native heritage. The architectural beauty that  the Spaniards contributed to Cusco was built on top of the impressive Incan masonry. It’s hard not to notice the obvious impact of this. From what I understood and gathered from the information I read, this tension is not shared throughout all of Peru as it is in Cusco. We would see more of this indigenous pride as the week progressed through Cusco, Sacred Valley, and Aguas Calientes.

Our first afternoon in Cusco on the Plaza de Armas was spent enjoying Cusquena beer on the balcony of a tavern overlooking the activity  below. Flurries of costumed dancers pranced by as they gathered for a performance. It was exciting to explore each alley looking for the campesinas with their llamas and baby alpacas on display. Teetering along those tiny “sidewalks” trying to avoid getting swiped by cars rushing by was my cardio for the day. All of a sudden, it hit me—-altitude headache; maybe even altitude sickness! An intense headache and a sort of sluggishness to ascend the streets is what I felt. I hung onto my husband and trudged up the street towards our hotel. I remembered that the articles said to take deep breaths. They also said to avoid alcohol. Ooops…I had enjoyed a beer on the balcony of the plaza. It was worth it, though. I had taken Gingko Biloba every day for a week or so but there isn’t probably a sure-fire method for avoiding altitude headaches.

I collapsed into bed …not just from the altitude but probably from our red-eye flight here from Costa Rica and also being dehydrated from traveling. Both of us snoozed for a deep one and a half hour nap but then the excitement of being in Peru awoke us both. We shot out of bed and decided that we were going to power through any sluggishness to go sightseeing some more. Dinner at the recommended Limo restaurant was our introduction to the Peruvian-Asian-Andean fusion of flavors. Along with the Spaniards who came to Peru, the Japanese were another wave of immigrants to Peru. The menu was divine. The walk back to the hotel was a burst of cold night air and my teeth were chattering so hard, I thought they were going to come out of my skeleton. Was this altitude sickness, too? I don’t know but luckily, it was the last of my altitude adjustment.

From Cusco, we traveled to Ollantaytambo’s train station to Agauas Calientes to see Machu Picchu. On another day, we traveled from Cusco to Poroy, Maras, Chinchero and other cities in the Sacred Valley.  Those places will be covered in other blogs. Although Chinchero was at a higher elevation (12, 500 feet) than Cusco’s 11, 200 feet, my altitude adjustment was over.  I was able to climb the steep streets and stairs just fine and I was very excited and relieved about that!

Cusco by itself would’ve been stimulating enough of a trip without visiting all of the other cities. However, we’re so glad we did see the other places with all of their unique landmarks. Cusco, coca leaves, and culture was a wonderful introduction to Peru!

©Gina Michalopulos Kingsley

photos by Gina Kingsley

For trip itinerary consultations, contact me to schedule an appointment for a fee: greekmuse68@gmail.com

If someone asks you what your favorite book is, you would not only name it immediately but you’d also have visceral feelings that flood your memory. For me, that book is The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. It  was  my introduction into the world of reading, fantasy, and escape. My beloved second grade teacher read it to us aloud. On some days, we followed along with the book. I was on the edge of my seat listening in anticipation of her storytelling.  I admired my pretty teacher perched so femininely on her chair in her 1970’s glamour.  The story  that unfolded daily and that lovely, healthy teacher was everything I needed in my life at that time. The emotional growth of a student is as critical as the cognitive growth and I was emotionally  immersed into  Lucy’s journey to Narnia. Aslan was the light at the end of the wintery tunnel of Narnian adventures and obstacles.  Lucy encountered so many new puzzles to solve in her dynamics with Mr. Tumnus and the beavers. Those encounters gave me vicarious confidence to tackle my own puzzles, spiritually.

The wardrobe still fascinates me. It’s both claustrophobic and infinite considering it was the siblings portal to Narnia. It may not be ironic that in my adulthood I bought a few vintage wardrobes . What could be better than procuring some vintage fur coats to store inside the wardrobes?  So, I did that, too. Before the wardrobe and the coats, I taught the unit of The Lion, the Witch , and the Wardrobe to my third grade Reading class. I wanted them to feel the crunch of the snow under the feet of  Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter.  I put styrofoam packing “nuts” under a blanket on my classroom floor so my students  could reenact this. I had them taste loukoums with  powdered sugar coating so they could relate to Edmund trying the Turkish Delight. Almost every time I eat loukoums, I think of Edmund being seduced by the power of the intoxicating Turkish Delight that the White Witch tempted him with in her majestic and foreboding sleigh. I can hear the chilling and scary sleigh bells ringing as she approached.

Children enjoy the fantasy of the book without realizing until adulthood that the book is actually an allegory about Jesus’s death and resurrection. The author, C.S. Lewis, has been referred to as a Christian apologetic for his various books. The anthropomorphism of the characters was a  highly entertaining way  to keep children engaged in the plot. Now, as an adult, I’ve had my own epiphanies about the symbolisms in this book and their impact on me.

Lucy, like me, is the youngest child in the family. The children lived in the home belonging to  the wise old man who was the Professor. He was a grandfatherly sort of figure. My siblings and I  also  lived in our grandfather’s house and he represented an elderly, wise  patriarchal figure in our lives. Mr. Tumnus and the beavers were like the relatives in my neighborhood. I visited their  homes and immersed in the dynamics of their families and rituals just like Lucy. Once, I even stayed overnight for a sleepover  when my mother was hospitalized for an operation. On that occasion, I was sheltered by the warmth and affection of  relatives while another neighbor/uncle came over to bring me a toy and check on me. This reminds me of the coziness of the beavers’ dwelling. I remember that toy so well.  Even as a six year old, I knew I was receiving special treatment during that time.

Peter and Susan were definitely my older brother and sister. There was no specific Edmund in my life. Although I had many childhood boy cousins, none of them were as complicated and conflicted as Edmund. The only thing that came close to an Edmund parallel in my life would be childhood uncertainty or phobias. As white as she was, the darkness of the White Witch symbolized the diagnosis and reoccurrence of my mother’s disease.  I think I’m still holding my breath each time the White Witch entered a chapter just as I think I still hold my breath at that childhood angst and uncertainty of that time of Mom’s illness; her “dis-ease”.

Aslan must have represented the Holy Trinity to me. I mean that figuratively and literally. Holy Trinity is the both the name of my church and obviously, the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Aslan symbolized  God, faith, worship, and the beloved priest of my childhood years. He was an elderly, happy, loving, and fatherly man.  His wisdom came in the form of being a priest, teaching us Greek School, Greek dance and lavishing attention and guidance on us. Years later, he married us.

NARNIA. That snowy, white, vast landscape of wonder, magic, good and evil. Problem solving, climax, victory, triumph, struggle, love, fear, faith, salvation…..Narnia is where we go spiritually to bask in salvation and resilience. Adventure, wandering, and curiosity emerges in the newness of every day. We must beware of the White Witches, not be tempted by the vices of Turkish Delight, and we must keep faith in the Aslans of life and the problem solving  of the siblings; Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. My personal Narnia is Kansas City’s  Loose Park in the wintertime as well as various landscapes nearby. I revisit my second grade self when exploring through these regions. I invite the endless, snowy vista  around me. My spirit stays young in that moment of imagination. I’m so grateful for what that book did for me therapeutically. I welcome the understanding and clarity of the archetypes Clive Staples Lewis created for us. This opportunity to freeze (pun) Loose Park’s Narnia-like imagery came after a long and trying week of weather-related mishaps for us, our youngest son, and an emergency housing relocation. We laughed our way through the tense week and didn’t let the frigid weather deter us from being content. The reward was the appreciation of the utter beauty of Loose Park.

I keep Lucy in my heart and I still look for Mr. Tumnus at the lamppost.

©Gina Michalopulos Kingsley

Greece itself is like one big art gallery of beauty and expression. How could an artist not draw from the essence of the vistas and energy of Greece? From Athens to Kolonaki, Ionian islands to Aegean islands, the art galleries simply WOWED us.

From the first day of arrival walking through Plaka in Athens, we admired artwork of olive trees and chatted with the gallery rep. Turns out he was a friend of a friend of a relative of ours back home in the states. We sent a selfie of us to our friend and chuckled about this small world connection. The olive tree art excited me for my eventual visit to the olive groves near my father’s village.

The next gallery stop was a few days later in the Kolonaki district of Athens. Mixed media was the feature this time and it was thought-provoking as expected. How edifying it is to venture into the local art galleries in addition to simply enjoying cuisine, shopping, and historic sightseeing. Beaching and boating is supreme in Greece but there is another dimension, after all. Elevate your senses and get into the Big Greece Energy of the art world

Also in Kolonaki was an intriguing gallery of tree art. This one took some extra thoughtfulness on our part. Meditation you might say. Appreciating the medium and interviewing the artist with humble curiosity was educational for us. Visualizing the art derived from tree materials in chic Greek homes was part of the gallery experience.

Corfu exposed us to coffeehouse art galleries. You can sit and sip among the owner’s personal art collection houses within a two-story coffeehouse. Around the corner, you could peer into an artist’s workshop and around another corner, another coffeehouse mural grabbed my attention. This was enhanced by the quartet of costumed musicians serenading nearby. At night, in Corfu town, a gallery of mixed media thrilled us with not only clockwork-style art but also so many other textures and perspectives. IMG_5420

Off to Milos! Perched high up in Plaka town of Milos, we re-visited a favorite black and white photographer’s gallery. How delightful that he is often present in the gallery to chat. Intense imagery in these black and white photos are so documentarian of street scenes. Goals! Nearby in the same village is a gallery of statuettes, mixed media, pottery, etc. One particular piece of mixed media artwork had a holographic effect to it. Dazzling!

Back in Athens, we went to the National Gallery of Athens. What. A. Place.! This gallery takes you through the history of Greece, the wars, the religion, the culture…and then, fabulously …the contemporary art and abstracts. This was heaven for me and a nice way to complete our time in Greece as departure was looming.

Like most metropolises, the galleries can be found along the shopping and dining districts so it’s convenient to pop in to them. Add them to your list of sightseeing and excursions because it will give you an added understanding to the culture and lifestyle.

©Gina Michalopulos Kingsley

Tony Bennett crooned that he left his heart in San Francisco. I can relate about that for many destinations. I didn’t realize, however, that I was going to leave my youth at Machu Picchu. If it sounds mysterious and metaphorical, it’s because it is.

Newly empty-nesters, my husband and I planned this trip to Peru with the enthusiasm and longing of college kids going backpacking through foreign countries. Weeks and months went by as we fine-tuned the logistics of all the trains, planes, automobiles, and buses it would take to get to Machu Picchu. I packed all of the necessary items to combat altitude sickness which was more of an issue in Cusco than at Machu Picchu. We purchased the right clothing items for this excursion. I had the right camera equipment and lenses ready. We awoke early to caffeinate and stand in line for the bus with the multitudes. When we arrived, we found a guide and formalized our plan of which route to take. We didn’t even “climb” Machu Picchu like the hardcore hikers do. We hiked up many inclines and climbed long “staircases” to find perches to view this glorious citadel in the sky. A 7:00 a.m. arrival to view the sunrise was ambitious enough as it was and the 20 minute winding bus ride was rigorous. There were trails for the elderly and the compromised and that made me happy to know that everyone can enjoy the same dream at their own pace. For me, just lifting my heavy camera lens was a workout that day but I didn’t even feel it because I was in a euphoric zone. Three hours of this trekking and shooting was exhilarating. There are various routes one can take and we chose the route that included the Guardhouse.

Atop a particular boulder, I decided to do a wardrobe change and quickly changed my outdoorsy pants for shorts. Somehow I forgot all about the “noseeums” bugs that search for human flesh. They feasted on me. They came out of nowhere and sucked the blood right out of my arms and legs. They should’ve just set a table with fine china, silver, and candles to accompany their gluttonous bounty. The “ouch” moment soon disappeared when I found some campesinas to photograph. This had been a photography goal of mine for years. The gracious, elderly campesinas traipsed around the site representing their heritage with vigor and pride. They allowed people to take their photos. I marveled at how they were decked out in their native folk dress and hats.

When we descended from the kingdom in the clouds, we found a place in Aguas Calientes that sold cold beer and warm empanadas. I sat there breathlessly with my husband enjoying not only the snack and beverage but the feeling of accomplishment. We were able to see Machu Picchu and the weather conditions were perfect! This is not always the case for eager tourists. There are times there is no visibility up there.  Back at our hotel, we enjoyed a hot tub and tended to some sores on our feet. Although we didn’t camp or climb it, it was still an athletic adventure somewhat.

Back home in Tulsa, I crafted my travel article and photos of Machu Picchu for an upcoming  submission to the magazine I write for and it was a fulfilling sensation to do so. I look back on that trip and I realize some things about myself changed. I was aware that I became winded while maneuvering with camera equipment, etc. I realized I looked tired in the early a.m. photos. I laughed at the fact that I forgot about the “noseeums” but remembered to take altitude sickness precautions. We were old enough that we were empty nesters but young enough to enjoy a beer at 11 a.m. When the tour was over, I jokingly stamped my arm with a Machu Picchu “passport” sticker that people add to their passports. I made mine a temporary tattoo which made a little girl giggle. I was teetering between both youthful humor and also midlife awareness of my own future physical limitations. We are decades away from needing to use the elderly trail for touring but starting to feel our own limits.

On the train ride back to Ollantaytambo to connect back to Cusco, we rode with a newlywed couple celebrating their first anniversary. We reminisced about our own newlywed years and spoke to them about our grown sons who were away at college. That day culminated in many thoughts and feelings for me. The thoughts and feelings melded into discoveries. I was celebrating a milestone without every really planning to do so or to realize it. I was entering an age where women change. I prefer the word evolving over the word change because it implies a work in progress. This time of change is both mental and physical. Mentally, we were able to enjoy an adventure for ourselves without our sons. Physically, I was entering an age where youthfulness and vitality were starting to slip away and become replaced with wisdom, serenity, and less stress. I honestly feel like I left some things symbolically up at Machu Picchu because of the height and mysterious location of it. The bugs attacking me so quickly were part of that swarm of energy taking parts of me biologically for their survival. Llamas graze freely up there and obviously these little bugs do, too.

Spiritually and chronologically, I connect certain age-related timelines to that Machu Picchu experience. Midlife is a phase that can be welcomed properly with certain celebrations and adventures. I gained more inspiration (and self-awareness) to continue to take more adventures. From the giggling girl at the passport stamp “tattoo” moment to the elderly, elegant campesina women, I am somewhere in the middle.

I left my youth at Machu Picchu but I didn’t leave my youthful spirit and curiosity.

© Gina Michalopulos Kingsley

all photos by Gina Kingsley

Delightful and quirky, the Keys present an aesthetic that echoes midcentury times. Scattered along the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico, these islands have the tropical weather, incredible seafood, and distinct touristic features. Key West is reportedly the only city with a lighthouse in the middle of it. It’s also the southernmost city in the United States. In fact, it’s only 90 miles away from Cuba.

A trolley system transports visitors to a tour of the salt ponds and red brick forts as well as the 110-ft. high lighthouse right in the middle of the city. Ship Wreck Museum is another worthy tourist spot. Famous residents of Key West have been President Harry Truman and Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway’s House is an interesting museum of artifacts, vintage photos, a gift shop and grounds. The home belongs to the cats which decorate each room. Outside, there’s a cat cemetery an a cat house replica of Hemingway’s house. All of this takes place behind a hedge of florals and bushes. It’s a wonderful museum to tour before retreating to a nearby tavern for a morning cocktail of Mimosas or Bloody Mary’s. Boutiques and cafes part of the sidewalk charm as well as the nearby landmark where people pose at the southernmost point of the U.S.

Free entertainment is the strolling and enjoyment of the architecture of each house, chapel, bungalow, etc. Eclectic yard decor, picket fences, stained-glass windows and random cacti make each house unique.

People who visit Key West often become regulars because you develop a fondness for favorite restaurants and cafes. This happened to us, in fact. A June visit turned into a December visit which added new sightseeing spots for us.Recommendations:

• Andy’s Cabana – Bloody Mary’s, Mimosas, ping pong and shade.
• Croissants de France Bakery & Restaurant
• Two Friends Patio Restaurant

Last  year, our church doors had to be replaced. They were 40 plus years old and quite weathered. The old doors were damaged and put aside to be discarded so I asked for permission to take one of them. After an approval process, I was given the door. I’m sentimental and nostalgic. Those doors represented so much to me. In my childhood and through adulthood, they were quite literally and technically the portals to my spirituality in the physical sense. We entered through those doors to attend church and other fellowship activities. However, more importantly, those doors were a significant part of our church’s consecration in 1982. A consecration is a church’s “sanctification and dedication” and it entails quite a process. The preparation for this event was a long time in the making.

One of the ceremonious things with the church doors at our 1982 consecration involved our clergy hierarchs who were in attendance. In addition to priests in attendance,  our Bishop Kallistos and  Archbishop Iakovos also attended and officiated. At the start of our ceremonious weekend, our parish excitedly went out to the Tulsa International Airport to greet the Archbishop. I remember each organization of our church having 1-2 representatives to greet the Archbishop on behalf of their organization or ministry. My cousin and I rehearsed our greeting many times together in Greek. We greeted the Archbishop on behalf of the immigrant contingency from his mother island (and ours), Imvros. I remember the Archbishop nodding approvingly at our welcome greeting.

The pomp and ceremony of parading through the airport to the Press Room to do these introductions was something unprecedented in my church experience. I have never been in the Press Room since. As a 14 year old with my 12 year old cousin, this was a big deal for us and  for the others that day.

Leading up to the consecration weekend, a fundraising campaign was created where people could become an honorary “Godparent” to the newly consecrated church. The participants’ names were entered and the name drawn by the hierarch became the “Godparent” of the church. Pensively, we waited to hear the name….it was my Grandfather’s name! He started bawling. Standing next to my mother, I watched tears stream down her face and another parishioner hugged her. (My mother and this parishioner both died from cancer years later so that memory is very poignant for me.) My grandfather was given “the keys to the church” on that day and I have those in my iconostasion at home. This is a photo from that 1982 consecration.

The Archbishop tapped on the church doors with his scepter during this consecration service. It was all so meaningful and full of traditions. The rituals and activities of the day were new to us. Although the church was erected in 1968, it wasn’t consecrated until 1982. It was a big day. I think back to that day, that weekend….and I’m fascinated that we met Archbishop Iakovos and that he was here in our little parish in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I think of him as my “one degree of separation” from Martin Luther King, Jr. because of his support and involvement in the civil rights movement and the fact that he marched with MLK, Jr.

I really wanted to save that damaged church door and repurpose it into something that I could pass down to my children. I consulted my cousin; the same one who I greeted the Archbishop with that day in the press room back in 1982. My cousin had recently taken up a new hobby of woodworking during the Covid-19 pandemic lockdown. I had the vision for the church door table and he had the skills. He built a base for the table and I had it stained by a professional. Ironically, the lady who stained the table grew up in my neighborhood and was nostalgic about her childhood memories here among my neighbors. She came over several days in a row to work on the table staining process.

My other cousin, the brother of my woodworking cousin, helped transport the table to our house. We called it our “Lenten project”. I envisioned all the gatherings that could take place around the church door table with our next generation. Word got around of our project and the other door was also repurposed by my cousin and used as an auction item for a fundraiser at our church.

I am still considering the proper place for this table as it could have outdoor uses as well. It transferred from my cousin’s garage to ours. It may end up in one of our son’s homes one day. It’s a piece of history that represents so many things to me. The best part was that I could share this restoration project with my cousins.

A side note: This is a video about Archbishop Iakovos and his thoughts on marching with MLK, JR..

https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=Iakovos+marches+with+MLK%2C+JR&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:ef38d934,vid:lP5THeO6eXc

One of the most breathtaking landmarks in Ecuador is the Quilotoa Crater Lake in the Ecuadorian Andes. It’s always ironic to me how destructive volcanoes form such beautiful physical features and that’s what I found at Quilotoa. It’s a collapsed volcano with a vivid emerald green and blue color due to the dissolved minerals. At almost 4,000 meters above sea level, the high altitude is something you might have to adjust to and prepare for with carbs and coca leaves.

We met our tour van and departed for this half day adventure of Ecuadorian splendor. Traveling over the shoulder season was a good idea since our tour van wasn’t crowded and there was only one other passenger.

Our guide was hospitable and attentive to our needs, scheduling in bathroom breaks along the way. The drive went by so much quicker than I anticipated mostly because you can’t take your eyes off the landscape!

Getting there from Quito was a fantastic build-up to our day’s excursion. We passed by Cotopaxi, one of the world’s highest active volcanoes which also has one of the world’s largest equatorial glaciers. The rolling hills and pastures were dream-like with farmers and llamas descending the patchwork vistas. We stopped at a Sasquisili village which will be featured in another blog. The roadside barbecues of cuy (guinea pig) fascinated us. We dined on cuy in the nice restaurants in Quito but seeing it street -side was unique. A stop at an art gallery was also stimulating. We were exposed to so much beauty and culture on this morning drive to our destination. At the entrance of the grounds, the most darling llama and his owner let us take photos of them. I was in heaven. The hike down the winding road was rigorous and I marveled at the hikers who hiked it back up. It’s a campsite as well as a park. I soon discovered that I was going to choose the option to ride the donkeys back up the mountainous terrain. After an hour approximately of this descent, we gazed at the crater lake and felt the waters which are filled with medicinal minerals. The panorama is quite incredible. Ecaudor gets better and better with each day that you are there.

We waited for our donkey “caravan” to get filled up for the ascent. I’d like to say the entire ride was thrilling but it bothered me to see the donkeys struggle…and be yelled at from their owners. I don’t think I’ll do a donkey ride again (and I’ve done several in the past but I’m more sensitive now). I was impressed with the athletic ability of the older woman who lead her family helpers into this ascent. It was their family business and tips are very important to them, obviously. Be prepared with enough extra bills to cover this.

As convivial as it was with all of the other donkey riders, I was relieved when it was over just because of the chaos involved with the natives on foot directing the donkeys with their commands. We were headed to another incredible Ecuadorian meal at a local restaurant with our tour guides. Every spoonful of that soup or chowder was heavenly. The drive back to Quito was an exit from the country and an entrance back into the bustling Quito. I can still remember  basking in the  the energy  of the sun-filled van ride through the bucolic Ecaudorian countryside. But,as always, the llamas steal the show!

© Gina Michalopulos Kingsley

photos by GIna Kingsley

You’ve found a good trip deal but you’re not sure you are prepared enough to take it. That’s the beauty of an organized trip closet or shelf! Update it regularly so you are ready to throw those items in your suitcase or carryon for either a flight or car trip.

Here’s a video of my travel accessories closet. It makes preparing for a trip so much more exciting to know I have supplies ready. Click on this video below:

IMG_9147 2

We all know items are more expensive at the hotel gift shops and you don’t want to be caught off guard having to pay extra for things you can get much cheaper at home. Last summer, our college-aged son went on a European study abroad trip and needed several supplies. For many items, I took him to the Dollar Store which is somewhere you should always look first. Even on-flight snacks are a good idea to stock up on otherwise, make do with the tiny bag of pretzels and the expensive airport gift shop foods.

Have fun supplying your travel shelf /closet. Carpe Diem!

Safe travels!

The words “balance”, “center”, and  “grounded” are rooted in our goals as evolving humans. Obviously, our planet Earth has these goals, too. We identify the hemispheres, we understand gravity, we witness natural disasters and all the other forces that make this planet go ’round. But what about the equator? That circle of latitude is an imaginary line but we can physically “experience” it (in various locations) but most famously in the country named after it…Ecuador!

Nothing interests me more in travel goals than choosing destinations which provide intriguing experiences. I need depth…not just physical attributes. Many travelers visit Ecuador for the adventurous Galapagos Islands but I was focused on Ecuador for the equatorial  and cultural experiences. In 2020, right as Covid-19 was rippling through our world before we knew what was going on, my husband and I traveled to Ecuador.

As America has the 4 Corners landmark people can stand on to be in four states at the same time, Ecuador has our estimation of the famous imaginary line celebrating the center of our Earth. That’s where I wanted to go! Staying in the capital of Quito, we took a taxi ride to Mitad del Mundo which is the park and museum showcasing the equatorial discoveries. It was a misty and cloudy day  in January and although the rest of our trip was spent in summery clothes, we wore raincoats and carried umbrellas for expected precipitation. Campy as it seems, I had to take the photo on the equatorial line. My husband and I were pre-celebrating our upcoming 30th wedding anniversary. That meeting in the middle was a milestone photo of entering our empty-nester years and embarking on couples trips. We posed on the middle of the earth. Later, I interpreted some symbolisms of this experience at this time in our lives.

We moved onto the Intinan Museum which is adjacent to this property and where the equatorial demonstrations and experiments are provided in guided tours.

Before the GPS accuracy, the equatorial line was estimated by less advanced scientific methods. Due to the latter, there are two sites representing the earth’s middle. Like kids on a school field trip, we devoured all of the experiments and knowledge. My husband balanced the egg on the nail. I walked the line trying not to fall over to the side. I tried to outsmart this balancing act by remembering my childhood ballet lessons of keeping my arms out to the side and high stepping one leg raise at a time. We also watched the Coriolis effect of water draining to the opposite sides of a sink drain depending on where you positioned the sink on each hemisphere side of the line. Our efforts at the equator museum earned us an honorary passport “stamp” which was a clear sticker and my husband even earned a certificate for balancing the egg on the nail. These physical challenges are symbolic of what humans spiritually and mentally do daily to stay in balance and find the middle. Teetering, balancing, persisting….

Whether these experiments are true or not, they definitely make me reflect now on what the symbolisms are of the concepts of balance and equality. My father used to often inspire my husband and me with his proverbs about balance. With his hands mimicking a see-saw going up and down, he wisely told us, “Life is a balance; there are ups and downs.” I can’t remember if he said anything about it ever being calmly in the middle. For him, there probably wasn’t much of a  stable and calm middle. (Merchant Marines and immigration adventures and then a terminally ill wife). Yet, he was always happy because he chose happiness. He often said, “Happiness is a state of the mind.” It was cute how he added the “the”[mind]  as many English-as a-second-language people do.

Like the equatorial line we posed on, I jokingly captioned our photo, “Meet me at the equator.” Standing on opposite sides of the line’s hemispheres, we leaned in for a kiss. On another photo, we shook hands. Like the “ups” in life or relationships, those gestures represent the high points and positives. We all have the “downs” in life, too. Balancing carefully on that “line we walk” is the challenge and the goal is equality. The equator is the personification of the world’s equality and balance; the place where the hemispheres meet in the middle. Whether it’s between siblings, playmates, friends, co-workers, spouses, or solo goals and resolutions, we are frequently striving to meet in the middle and find that spot of balance. We deal with the goals and effects  of equatorial, equality, boundaries, balance, sometimes opposite sides.…just like the Earth.

© Gina Michalopulos Kingsley

photos by Gina and Patrick

It has been years since I went to the Saronic islands of Greece. Hydra, Aegina, Poros…with their charming ports and stately architecture.

What about Spetses? It’s the sleepy island further down in the Saronic gulf. Intrigued by an article I read about how Spetses has no cars; only a few horse-drawn buggies, I decided to read more about the island.

It’s true that there are no cars but there are motorcycles and mopeds whirring by you from every which way. At first, I was startled by this ant colony effect of  transportation from the island’s visitors but eventually I became accustomed to it. Actually, I found it an endearing part of Spetses’s vibe. Many Athenians flock to Spetses for their nearby island retreat from the big city. It’s a “see and be seen” spot for many. For most, however, I’m sure it’s quite the opposite.

Reportedly, Onassis and Jacqueline vacationed there before marrying on my favorite island; Skorpios. (I’ve been to the public access part of Skorpios and the surrounding environs on a most magical boat excursion.) We took the ferry boat from the Piraeus port of Athens to Spetses, passing Hydra and Poros. Due to those stops, the ferry ride was a couple of hours but extremely  enjoyable adjusting to the Saronic Islands “look”in contrast to the Cycladic islands we had just visited. That’s one of the details I adore about Greek island clusters. They are all unique. The Ionian, Cycladic, Dodecanese and northernmost island clusters each have their own distinctions. As our ferry stopped at Poros to pick up passengers, the port town patina sparkled. So different from the joyous blue and white Cycladic architecture, these Saronic islands have a very elegant and stately veneer.

Ornamental railing, statuettes, subdued painted doors and windows, and even the seaside promenade were serene. Being there in late September, we did not encounter many tourists. It appeared that the visitors were mostly local mainland Greeks. After doing many boat excursions and daring climbs and hikes at the previous Cycladic island we visited, Spetses forced us to slow down. You can walk the island. We took a horse buggy one way and walked the way back on one occasion. The one taxi (or so) that is available was too expensive to take out to a wilderness area so we chose to do a more cultural tour of the island. Our Air BnB was in the town center and the hosts were so welcoming and friendly. It was so easy to dine, shop, and stroll. If you wanted beach time, you took your towel and sat on the pebbly beach. We saw fishermen catching octopus. Another time, we saw a beautiful Romanian tourist set up a picnic on the seawall with her favorite cheese, meats, and wine from the adjacent charcuterie shop. She even lit a votive candle right there in the array of delicacies. I asked if I could take her photo and as we chatted, I discovered that she and her friends visit the island frequently and thus knew the charcuterie shop well.

Being active travelers that we are, we sought out museums in order to learn more about the island. The Laskarina Bouboulina museum was here on Spetses and her statue stood proudly overlooking the sea. How fortuitous this was for us! (My parents’ dog is named after Bouboulina.) Bouboulina is a fascinating, historic figure whose home has been turned into a most edifying museum. Easy to navigate (no pun intended for this famous female admiral) and get lost into the information, we sauntered through the home’s rooms. We absorbed every detail. Best part of all was when we met the docents who are her sixth generation descendants! I cannot tell you how meaningful that is to experience male descendants of this female heroine continuing her legacy…six generations later!https://www.neomagazine.com/2022/03/so-who-was-bouboulina/?fbclid=IwAR18mLYalHcHysIVhlolfZx2e8Mrumr5S71UuGL9p4_R7lGh-cm7hsD2bfk

I found a boat in the port with my Greek name on it: Evgenia. That’s never happened to me before as my name is not that common. I saw a restaurant named Dino’s. My father’s name was Deno and he was an extraordinary cook. I returned several times to a favorite boutique challenging myself to add pieces to my wardrobe transporting that European look back to midwest America. We slowed way down. We played many games of Gin Rummy while drinking cafe frappes and eating loukoumades; the honey and nut drizzled pastry puffs while people watching at the port. Those motorbikes continued to buzz by us as we became part of the energy of the island.

We shopped in an antique store that combined textiles, artifacts and icons as well as a quirky mannequin dressed half vintage/half modern. We unraveled the layers of Spetses like a spool of yarn. Her village roads, climbing floral vines, enigmatic estates, and island pride are all pieces of this Spetses puzzle. The historic distinction of being home to Laskarina Bouboulina sets her apart from the other Saronic islands.

I’m glad we whet our appetite for discovering this island. The Spetses charm is very suitable for many tourists and one that I look back on fondly, now. While I still prefer the other island clusters, I must admit that a favorite feature is that we could gaze upon the Peloponese mainland across the gulf. The Peloponesus terrain beckoned to me with all the childhood memories of being at my father’s village. Peloponesus was a mere 25 minute ferry boat ride away. Tempting!

A nice closure to our Spetses visit was being able to view the nearby Saronic islands again on the way back to Piraeus. You exit the quiet retreat of Spetses to return to the bustling metropolis of Athens…and you’re ready for it because you’re rested and recharged.

©Gina Michalopulos Kingsley

photos by Gina Kingsley