Der er kun her. Resten er langt væk og dunkelt, halvglemt som en drøm efter daggryets komme, uvirkeligt i skæret af genkendelserne her.

Vil der mon senere kun være der?

Rejser • Skrevet 24. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

Man kan få alting i Amerika:

Så behøver jeg vist ikke sige mere 😉

Rejser • Skrevet 22. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

Today, while Kamal was at class, I gave in to the call of the crisp clear fall morning and went for a hike down the gorge trail of Buttermilk Falls State Park. Naturally I could not resist the urge to bring the camera 😉
The trip started with the 15 minute walk from Kamal’s house to the edge of the park. The gibbous Moon was mild and white over the leaf-flaming trees.

The trail descends steeply from the road into the gorge and passes several smaller falls on the way down – all quite photogenic.


Near the top is a bridge, permitting passage to the rim trail on the other side of the stream. I tried for a mirror-effect picture as there was only a very faint wind today, but it did not come out entirely to my satisfaction.

This one turned out a little better.

My entire body happy to be finally moving – I’ve been mostly in front of the TV, the computer or a book the last few days, and getting more and more twitchy as a result (I wonder why when I get so restless from sitting still, working out always feels like such a chore. On occasion a walk can be nice, but mostly I’m just bored silly as soon as my brain is no longer occupied 🙁 ) – I was skipping, jumping and half-running down the trail when I saw this:

An abrupt and sobering reminder that here the nature might be beautiful, but it is also dangerous.
Walking at a less leg-breaking pace I had a glimpse of the wood covered mountains surrounding Ithaca.

A close-up of part of the larger fall:

As I got to the end of the trail and looked back up the largest of the falls, the sun was at a perfect angle for trying some sun-glare camera tricks. It’s a bit like the lottery – what you see on the camera screen is only with very low probability recognisable in the outcome.


The Moon was still up there as I walked up to the highway where Kamal had agreed to pick me up, so I snapped another picture while balancing on the guardrail waiting.

Looking back up, a glimpse of the falls could still be seen from the parks main entrance.

Later today the cold that’s been bothering me the last week or so got hold of Kamal as well. Here he is, fever-sleeping under several blankets.

He woke up enough to get a bit of dinner and catch me mothering him and doing the dishes.

Rejser • Skrevet 22. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

Jeg lader til at have en ikke umærkbar effekt heromkring. Nedenstående forefindes nu på Kamals ellers mørkhårede hovede – jeg er ikke overbevist om at det var der inden min ankomst 😉

Men det var nu også et par tandudtrækkende dage i New York, med koncert, dansen, gensyn med Chethan og (for mit vedkommende) ondt i halsen.
Inden koncerten vandrende jeg igen imellem århundreders skatte. Et enkelt eksempel.

I udstilligen om persien i oldtiden var der dette fine citat fra Darius I en persisk konge.

“Sikkert, smukt og tilstrækkeligt” forekommer beundringsværdigt beskedent i sammenligning med hvad andre oldtidskonger har sagt om deres bygningsværker 😉

Men fra oldtiden, til oldgammel rock: Det første rigtige band jeg værdsatte (eller rettere sagt: det første rigtige band jeg vil være ved at kunne lide, Roxette er ikke just et eksemplar man siger højt at man bryder sig om 😉 ) som spag tolvårig var Queen. Mange aftener lå jeg i mørket inden søvnen kom og lyttede til “One Vision”, “Sligthly Mad”, “Bohemian Rhapsody” eller “Forever”. Ikke at jeg på det tidspunkt så meget som overvejede at musik kunne høres live og ikke fra båndoptager, men de kronologiske omstændigheder gjorde også at det aldrig virkede som en mulighed at høre dem i virkeligheden – Freddie Mercury døde sådan cirka samtidig med at jeg begyndte for alvor at kunne lide Queens musik 🙁
Men… Den seneste tid har Queen været på turne med Paul Rogers, en sanger fra et andet firserband jeg end aldrig havde hørt om. De bidder af deres koncerter man (lovligt) kan finde online demonstrerer at hans stemme bestemt ikke tåler sammenligning med Freddie Mercurys, men også at han i det mindste har sund sans nok til ikke at prøve at være noget han ikke er. Så da det viste sig at de skulle spille i New York imens jeg var i USA i denne omgang var der ikke megen betænkning fra min side – noget der halvt er det man vil have er væsentlig bedre end det ingenting man havde regnet med, ikke?
Så hvordan var det så? Først og fremmest var det stort – jeg har aldrig været til en stadiumkoncert før, og mit gæt er at der snildt var 15-17000 mennesker i Continental Arena søndag aften. Og af alle slags var de – rynkede bedstemødre, familier med entusiastiske børn, opildnede teenagere, midaldrende par, rockelskere med band-t-shirt, tiltagende velstandsvom og ditto måne…
Det startede sært, da de endelig lukkede os ind. (Det skal i parentes bemærkes at det tydeligvis kun er mænd der springer ting i luften eller skyder folk. Alle af hankøn blev kropsvisiteret ved indgangen, os andre absolut ikke.) Helt mørkt i det store rum, kun lidt lys ved udgangene. Et stort mørkt forhæng hænger ned fra scenen og skjuler alt på den. Efter en kort bid af “It’s A Beautiful Day”, tydeligvis en optagelse, spiller Eminems “Lose Yourself”. Publikum omkring mig ser forvirrede på hinanden, nogle griner, andre rynker brynene – er de kommet den forkerte dag?
Så lyder et enkelt velkendt twanng fra en elektrisk guitar hen over Eminem, og alle de bekymrede ansigter lyser op, for dernæst at blive til brede smile som det sorte forhæng falder og “Tie Your Mother Down” blæser ud mod os, aldeles levende musik.
Efter mere end 2 timer vaklede jeg omtumlet og fuld af rock tilbage ud i den amerikanske semivirkelighed. Paul Rogers tjente ikke mange point på min tavle, men musikken gjorde, folk dansede, råbte, hujede og sang med og heldigvis sang både Brian May og Roger Taylor væsentlig bedre end den lånte forsanger. Man kan godt blive lidt lun og glad indeni af sådan en koncert. Her kan I se hvad andre mente om forestillingen. (Hvis den beder om login, så prøv www.bugmenot.com)

Efter en alt for kort nat (koncerter slutter ikke til små pigers sengetid) og tiltagende halsonde (sjovt nok hjalp det ikke at råbe, synge og danse aftenen før 😉 ) var det ikke det kønneste ansigt jeg kunne fremvise mandag morgen. Efter at have set dette billede er jeg gansske forundret over at Kamal satte sig så tæt på efter kameraets selvudløser var sat igang – jeg ville have holdt mig på god afstand af mig hvis jeg havde kunnet se mig selv 😉

Om eftermiddagen mødtes vi med Chethan

som netop er flyttet til New York fra Ithaca, spiste frokost og gik tur i Washington Square Park.

Amerikanerne tager deres børns uddannelse meget seriøst – som her en kravletime.

Der var fint seneftermiddagssolskin,

masser af studerende (parken ligger lige ved siden af nogle universitetsbygninger) og endnu flere sparkelige duer.

Jeg ramte desværre ikke – de flyvende rotter kan være forbløffende hurtige når det passer dem.

Mandag aften var det fuldmåne, og da vi stadig var i det Store Æble besøgte vi Chapel of Sacred Mirrors, et galleri for maleren Alex Greys tankevækkende, detaljerede og af og til noget foruroligende billeder.

Der samles folk fra alle mulige (alternative) religioner hver fuldmåne og beder, snakker, musicerer, mediterer, danser, spiser og alt hvad de nu ellers lyster. Det er et dunkelt, varmt sted, med dybe rene farver på væggene, bløde puder på gulvet i rummet med spejlene og oplyst af de klare farver i malerierne. Folk der er venlige og imødekommende og giver plads for hinandens forskelligheder. De tager også sig selv meget alvorligt, men jeg mistænker at det er en integreret del af selvdefinitionen “new age-religiøs”.

(Da Alex Greys malerier naturligvis er beskyttet af ophavsretten kan jeg ikke vise dem her, men mange kan findes via galleriets hjemmeside. Tag et kig 🙂 )

Siddende på gulvet i rummet med spejlmalerierne spørger en gråhåret, velklippet mand i en tibetansk udseende jakke mig om jeg vil prøve noget sjovt. Han er en del af en gruppe der spiller på gong-gonger og messingskåle, rummet er fyldt af vibrationerne fra de to store gonger to andre trakterer samtidig, folk har trukket puder ind mellem dem og sidder eller ligger og mærker lydbølgerne vibrere gennem dem.
Han ser temmelig harmløs ud, og da folk her generelt er rare og velmenende tager jeg imod hans tilbud. Ikke længe efter sidder jeg med den store messingskål han havde i hånden omvendt på mit hovede, og han slår forsigtigt på den med et eller andet. Vibrationerne løber gennem mit kranium og hele vejen ned af rygsøjlen – kraftigere end de andre i rummet via deres mere direkte kontakt med mine knogler, som diskanten til de store gongers dybe bas. Lyd i mig og om mig. Bølgeeksistens.
Senere lokkes jeg af trommernes dunken ind i rummet ved siden af. Her spiller et dusin skiftende mennesker på diverse slagtøj – små og store håndtrommer, koklokker, ringlere og skrabere – i skiftende og komplekse rytmer. Foran dem danses der i en stor forglemmelse. Unge hippie-piger, midaldrende computernørder (genkendt på “No I will not fix your computer”-t-shirten), en gut som bestandig roterer to metalkugler i den ene hånd, en senetynd afroamerikansk kvinde og hendes partner, begge med smidig elegance og fuldstændig overtaget af rytmerne, spinkle, runde, klodsede og yndefulde mennesker i en blanding, uden tanke for hvordan de mon tager sig ud, opslugt af trommerne.
Kroppen husker det, ved godt at sådan har vi, menneskene, danset siden vi kravlede ned fra træerne og måske endda allerede inden. Ikke pardans, menuet eller swing, men blot en betingelsesløs given efter for trommernes lokken og det instinktive ønske om at bevæge sig med den.
Inden længe indfanger trommerne også mig.

Tirsdag morgen tidlig, med ømme dansefødder: Myldretidsbyen set fra bilen på vej hjem.

Man skulle rejse på Leopardklasse skulle man. Den dasede hele vejen og spandt glad da vi atter kørte over grænsen til Pennsylvania.

Det sidste stykke vej til Ithaca er der et stigende antal sære skilte. Nogle skyldes de mange indianske stednavne, der af og til lyder noget sært i andre sproglige sammenhænge.

Der var også Catatonk alt muligt andet – benzinstation, købmand, forsamlingshus. I mine ører lyder det noget katatonisk.
Eller hvad med dette ganske officielle skilt?

Det giver sikkert god mening om vinteren, med på en solskinnende efterårsdag hvor træerne endnu har blade i alle høstens farver og de hvide vatskyer jager hinanden over himlen forekommer det lidt surrealistisk.

Kamals skriblerier og nogle af hans billeder fra turen kan findes her.

Rejser • Skrevet 19. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

Efter jeg kom tilbage fra DC var der efterårsferie på Cornell mandag og tirsdag, så Kamal havde fri. Tirsdag tog vi til Syracuse og shoppede rundt i Carousel Center. På vej derhen overtalte jeg Kamal til at lade mig prøve at køre med automatgear – for første gang i højre side af vejen, den eneste anden gang jeg har prøvet det var i New Zealand hvor de har venstresidekørsel.

… Det lykkedes mig ovenikøbet at huske at blive i højre side 😉

Sådan noget osen er udmattende i en sådan grad at jeg ikke opdagede kameraet var fremme efter jeg var faldet i søvn på sofaen med tandbørste og Leoparden.

Efter onsdag at have været til Rob Thomas-koncert (det var sjovt, jeg tror ikke jeg har været til en koncert siden Daniel og jeg kørte til Herning og så Savage Garden. Daniel var på krykker og fik bestemt sin del af opmærksomhed fra det hovedsageligt kvindelige publikum 😉 ) holdt vi torsdag aften fødselsdag for Ganesh.
Det krævede nogen grublen, for når ens venner har fødselsdag her bager man en kage til dem. men Ganesh bryder sig ikke om chokolade, og alle de fantastisk fine og fumpe kager jeg lige kunne var med chokolade i en eller anden form. Vi endte med at beslutte os for en “Tres Leches”-kage, en latinamerikansk kage der overhældes med 3 slags mælk, inddampet, kondenseret sødet mælk og piskefløde) efter bagningen. (4 faktisk, men den sødmælk som er i selve dejen tæller åbenbart ikke.)
Kamal pisker glasur

Og hælder senere mælkeblandingen over.

Imens han hældte pakkede jeg Ganeshs gave ind. Jeg ved ikke helt hvordan det lykkedes min nakke at befinde sig i den sære vinkel.

og ikke længe efter sneg han sig til at vende kameraet mod mig da jeg ikke kunne dy mig for at slikke den spildte mælkeblanding op. Der var ikke noget at græde over der.

I morges da jeg stod ved køkkenvinduet og opvaskede kom en af Kamals venner forbi i haven

Efter et stykke tid så den også mig.

Og her til aften var der det fineste skylandskab samme vej.

I morgen tidlig drager jeg og mit nystildragede halsonde til New York, til Queen-koncert, The Metropolitan Museum of Art og Chapel of Sacred Mirrors. Mere om det når jeg kommer tilbage…

Rejser • Skrevet 15. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

This weekend I was back in DC to see Josh

who got himself a job there after graduating this summer. He looked very much like himself and so did the White City though this time void of the many Christmas decorations that adorned it when I was there last. The picture is from the trendy Mexican (delicious – I never had Mexican before) restaurant he took me to when I arrived starving Friday night on a plane one and a half hour delayed due to rain :-/ Especially the half hour we spent in a holding pattern over DC with the message “If the rain does not let up soon we’ll put down in Baltimore, refuel and try again” hanging over our heads was… interesting. And no, I have no clue what the moving lights in the picture are.
Just so you aren’t completely without appreciation of my culinary expeditions: The “three milks”-cake that was dessert..

Not that there was much room for cake after the fajitas. It seems these music industry people know the good places to go out 😉

All Friday and Saturday it rained and rained, not at all appropriate for our planned sightseeing of the Solar Decathlon so after an umbrella-shielded (I’m sure I looked adorable in Josh’s big yellow anorak he used to dress up as Ali G for Halloween last year) visit to the organic supermarket (clearly Josh knows me quite well, if he knows to take me sightseeing there 😉 ) to buy challah, milk and eggs we made French toast (mmmmmmm) and fixed the problems of the world for a few hours.
Later, as it still refused to stop raining, we went to the Pentagon Mall for a bit of random Saturday browsing. After being properly amazed at automatic massage chairs

vampire watches,

the fact that the acquisition or browsing of shoes does not attract me in the least (Josh) and the amount of money men are willing to spend on a tie (me), Josh got some mens furnishings (such a nice expression, isn’t it?) and I got a pair of jeans.
They were much needed as my other pair is worn through from traveling with me for the last year, but unfortunately they were very much a mistake. After washing them yesterday they shrank so much they no longer fit at all (and they were not that tight to begin with, tight jeans are not comfortable). Too bad DC is too far away to complain, as the clerk did not even warn me they were prone to much shrinking I feel well within my right to do so. The worst part probably is that they weren’t cheap – I feel bad even when I spend money on things I need or have a use for. So much more when it’s wasted ;-(

Sunday morning – oh wonder – it stopped raining. So we walked down to the mall – passing this enormous and somewhat pornographic (at least that is my impression, am I wrong?) rose –

and got to see the Solar Decathlon after all. Interestingly most of the houses were clear-cut examples of Scandinavian interior decoration – quite different from what I’ve seen in the American homes I’ve been in so far. And good to see that even here in America, rude and greedy consumptor of the world’s energy resources, some people at least are concerned about sustainable energy and limiting pollution.
Some of the houses looked not unalike what is built back home recently. Here is Cornell’s contribution, with Josh in front so you’ll believe he was there. Notice the garden of herbs, peppers, tomatoes and all good things edible around the house. Very appetite-awakening.

A last picture from the White City: The still beautiful dome of not-the-Natural-History-Museum (that’s the other one), this time with leaves on the trees around it. (Compare here.)

And now I’m back in Ithaca, where proper autumn weather finally set in. Sitting here at the computer one has a view to lots of different things. Yesterday it was Kamal doing economics homework.

This morning as I am getting hungry my eyes seem to gravitate towards the jar with the peanut butter cookies we made the other day. All because I saw Halloween cookie cutters in the supermarket and couldn’t resist them. And what fun are cookie cutters if you’re not baking cookies?
They didn’t turn out too bad despite me mangling the recipe to fit out needs (I chose this recipe, substituted peanut butter for butter, seasoned with cinnamon and a pinch of cloves and nutmeg, reduced the flour to 2 cups and added a little extra egg to make the dough stick together.), and nothing brings out the inner child as the chance to play with sweet edible paint 🙂

… Or, apparently, the opportunity to play with the camera 😉

Since it’s Halloween soon, they of course had to be scary cookies:

Cookies… Err… Breakfast, here I come.

Rejser • Skrevet 11. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

Apparently not only power corrupts, money does too.

This morning I got a letter from the scholarship, the people who have been sending me around the world, making this whole last year possible. The letter said something to the effect of “Thank you for sending in your bookkeeping, we’ve reviewed it and your documentation, it looks to be in order. We notice that there’s some money left over that you didn’t need. Please return it to us at the following account number”

Was my reaction “But of course they should have their money back, so that they can use it to give someone else an experience like the one they’ve given me. Lucky me.” ? No, I immediately thought “But that’s my money! It’s not like they’d have offered to give me more if I’d overspent instead of being cautious. Grrr.”. The mere thought of financial loss immediately made me grumpy and completely drowned the gratitude I should properly be feeling that this foundation of its own accord, me not even applying for anything, offered to send me around the world, giving me this entire year of experiences and things I’d never have dared to do if not pushed into them.

I wonder if we all have this greedy side, if more always wants more, or if it’s just me. Is it because I remember having little? I don’t think so… I do remember knowing as a child that we did not have what the other children I knew had, but also that I was not truly bothered by it. True, my parents weren’t exactly well off, and I was greatly annoyed that my Mother didn’t buy my favorite brand of rye bread because it was too expensive, but we weren’t hungry, there were no holes in my clothes (apart from the ones I ripped when climbing trees) and I had all these other things the other children didn’t. Things homemade (and hence cheaper, though I didn’t think of that then) – jam from the strawberries in the garden, a new skirt or a sweater my Mother made for me (especially I remember the knitted one with my name one it). Always having a grownup there to play with and ask questions – my parents took turns being unemployed for some years, so that one could always be home with us. I was not in daycare until I was over 10, something distinctly unnormal in Denmark.
And the other children noticed it as well. Looking back with older eyes I especially remember the one girl who very matter-of-fact remarked “My parents spoil me with money. Yours spoil you with love.” A bit melodramatic perhaps, but from our frank children’s viewpoint indisputably true.

So why now this clinging to money I’m lucky to have had in the first place? Very unseemly, especially as I do not lack for anything at the moment. True, I am unemployed, but I do have a little bit left over from my job as a systems programmer last year, and it’s not like I couldn’t start looking for a job if I needed one. And I think I even have unemployment insurance somewhere.

The worst thing about it is that it took me over a dozen minutes to realise how ridiculously I was behaving. Sudden greed attacks with me usually comes mainly when I see someone with a scrumptious piece of cake or an ice cream and haven’t got any myself, so I was not at all prepared to recognise it for what it was. Scary. Especially as I know that money will do nothing at all to increase my happiness. How can it be so easy to forget and be greed-touched?

I transferred the money immediately this morning and I sincerely hope that’s the last I’ll feel of this.

Rejser • Skrevet 07. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

Varmt, grænsende til for varmt solskin på de blottede dele af min hud. Bestemt for varmt på de tildækkede dele – det medbragte udvalg af min garderobe er passende til efterår og sorte toppe er ikke nær så komfortable når der er 25 grader, en let brise og skyfri himmel. Nogen har vist ofret fedekalven og alle 7 børn til vejrguderne, for varmen har varet adskillige dage nu.

Lørdag formiddag: Indkøb på Farmers Market. Her så jeg den mest appetitligt og årstidstilpasset dekorerede chokoladekage jeg nogensinde har kastet øjne på. Kamal kom også med på billedet – jeg kunne jo ikke så godt bare fotografere damens kage uden at købe et stykke, vel?

Her er den i nærbillede.

Søndag eftermiddag i Stewart Park, nede ved søen. Alt for varmt til at sidde stille og blive bagt, omend jeg måtte sande at min blå nederdel (den eneste beklædningsgenstand i min kuffert som tilnærmelsesvis passer til temperaturen) ikke just er oplagt til iaido.

(Ja, jeg ved det godt, spidsen skal ikke pege nedad. Pinligt.)

Mandag, og dermed arbejdsuge for folk der ikke er så bekvemt arbejsdløse som jeg. Her daser jeg på sofaen, hækler, ser Buffy (sæson 7, need closure) og leger med mit kamera mens Kamal arbejder.

Igår trissede jeg rundt nede i byen og morede mig med de trillioner af kogeboger det lokale bibliotek huser. Af en eller anden grund handlede næsten alle dem jeg endte med at låne om chokolade, selvom det bestemt ikke var meningen. Jeg forstår det ikke 😉
Senere lykkedes det mig endda at finde ud af at tage bussen tilbage hjem – det tog kun dobbelt så lang tid som at køre. Vedkommende der har bestemt at det er en god ide med offentlig transport i cirkelruter er en hat!

Her småmuler jeg fordi Kamal lige har vundet 500-70 i rommy i aftenlunheden i baghaven med den improviserede tørresnor i baggrunden.

I dag: Morgenmad af yoghurt, multigryn og rød banan. Desværre var den ikke også rød indeni, det ville ellers have været et flot syn. Men sød og god var den 🙂

Jeg har også truffet en solgul blomkål, men den kom ikke med hjem, den fine farve til trods. Oplagt til påskemiddagen?

Rejser • Skrevet 05. October, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu

The wind is howling, sending sweet-smelling air in through the window. It’s 5 am and I’ve given up on sleep – apparently my body is very well aware, thank you, that in real life it’s almost noon. Ironically jetlag seems so much easier to conquer when having a busy shedule – give my system too much free time and it will spend it imposing my previous time zone on my current destination. At least it can’t be blamed for lack of ambition 😉
As is the way with sleeplessness I don’t really believe it will ever be day, or in the very least definitely not anytime soon. Looking outside seems to confirm my pessimism, it’s all dark out there. The window I’ve been looking out from my bed the last month speaks of daylight to come even before I usually get up at six, but here the sky is deep and dark still, with the sentry-tree doing a guard dance in the whipping wind.

It is strange to be back here. So many things I did not remember mixed in with the ones I do. Already en route it started, when I transferred to an American Airlines plane in Brussels yesterday. It was jam packed and after we all boarded we sat and waited for a while while an oil leak in the engine was fixed. It smelled somewhat noticably in the cabin, of gas and too many not all clean bodies in a small space, so at some point an American stewardess walks down the aisle spraying air freshener. The Belgians who were sitting in front of me were absorbed in conversation and didn’t notice her, but as soon as the scent of it started to spread they looked around wonderingly and dismayed not understanding where the odour came from. Some Danish people remarked that frankly the air smelled fresher before. Even on the plane I was back in the land of air fresheners (vile things!) where everything from candles to laundry detergent, tampons and paper towels come with added scent. Idrk!

Luckily not long after (well, technically it’s a 9 hour flight, strange how boring times always seem shorter in hindsight) upon landing in Chicago O’Hare I notice that it’s not all bad – this might be the land of too many artificial scents but it’s also the land of repayed kindness.
I was standing in line for immigrations, waiting with some semblance of patience along with all the other recent arrivals. Almost all that is, for one French or perhaps Belgian lady was loudly complaining about having it taking hours (not true, I think I stood there for no more than 15 minutes total), pacing back and forth in and out of line, trying to claim an earlier turn and making a nuisance of herself. The busy border officials seemed annoyed, and when it became her turn she was not exactly addressed kindly. In contrast the cute latino official with becoming 3-day beard stubbles asked me if I always smile this much, scanned my fingers and took my picture in no time and wished me a good time in America.
Immediately after, when waiting in line for customs, a customs official comes along and proceeds to ask me questions about my luggage, where I’m going, checking the form I filled out and so on – the usual routine. The line moved around us and got longer while I answer, and I predicted another 15 minutes in line before I could set out for the other terminal and my plane for Syracuse. But no – the official (who was also quite dapper come to think of it, with smooth dark mahogany skin. Does America post all it’s nice fit men in the receiving parts of its airports, or do I just only notice them now that I’m single I wonder?) remarked it was not fair for me to stand in line now that he’d let other people take my place in it and proceeded to lead me directly through customs around the queue.

I’d forgotten how much I like it when people smile back at me 🙂

Driving back to Ithaca, the distictively American design of shops’ neon signs, proper donuts (why do you think I flew into Syracuse?) shopping at Wegmans, people saying “Excuse me” though they pass you more than a meter away, the lack of effective throat drops, lots and lots of blue sky and greenery, sunshine and a breeze outside in the hammock yesterday afternoon. I’m back in Ithaca, no mistake possible.

🙂

Rejser • Skrevet 29. September, 2005 • Ingen kommentarer endnu