Waldorf Salad

The symptoms began in Madrid, in January: occasional spasms in my right leg, an ache in my right buttock, furtive searches for a place to sit down to relieve the pain. I suffered from severe sciatica twenty years ago and was certain that I could manage it now, as I did then, by walking, exercising, and even better, losing a few pounds. But instead of getting better it got worse. By the time we went to Barbados, in June, I began to dread standing and walking, and in Chicago, in July, I was in agony, the pain so excruciating I wanted to scream and punch holes in the wall.

Then the doctor visits: primary care physician, neurosurgeon, anesthesiologist, radiologist, orthopedic surgeon, long consultations with Dr. Google, even a chiropractor. A MRI showed a synovial cyst in my lower lumbar spinal column and I was desperate to find a non-surgical solution. The radiologist might be able to aspirate the cyst and the anesthesiologist might be able to temporarily ameliorate the pain, but one and all said that surgery was the only sure cure.

The idea of getting cut on made me despondent, and my mood worsened when I realized we'd have to cancel our yearly trip to Buenos Aires: no grilled steaks at La Cholita, no sitting in Plaza Vicente Lopez soaking up the late winter sun, no strolls down Avenida del Libertador. Instead of escaping the Texas summer heat, I moped around the apartment, unable to do much of anything except sit, lie down, and wait for my date with the scalpel.

Finally it was my turn; I had the surgery about four weeks ago and I'm glad to say it went exceedingly well. My orthopedic surgeon, Jason Tinley, is a talented young doctor who removed the cyst and used some bone grafts to help stabilize my spine. The surgery took about an hour, in late morning, and I was able to go home around 3 p.m. The sciatica was completely gone and I was able to resume my walking exercises almost immediately. I am tickled beyond words that Terri and I can once again walk the Trinity Trails; just yesterday we did about three and a half miles.

I have a few more weeks of exercising and recovery before we're ready to travel again, but lucky for us there are three great exhibits going on at our local museums. The Kimbell has "The Kimbell at 40: An Evolving Masterpiece", 220 pieces from their permanent collection displayed in the chronological order in which they were acquired. The Amon Carter has "To See as Artists See", late nineteenth and early twentieth century American works from The Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C. Finally, The Modern has "Lucian Freud: Portraits", an incredible collection of paintings in its only U.S. venue.

Oh yes, about the Waldorf Salad. Sam's Club sells big tubs of the delicious, addictive stuff, but it's seasonal and I was pleasantly surprised last week when we found it in stock again. I consider myself a Costco type of guy, but Sam's Club's Waldorf Salad is so good I got a membership just so I could buy it a few months each year.

Let's hope my next blog post takes less than three months to write and is datelined from someplace other than Texas. I haven't taken many snaps lately, but I have my eye on a new camera and if I buy it I'll have to go somewhere to test it out.

Chicago Heat Wave

We're always looking for ways to escape the heat of a Texas summer, but this time we flew out of the Texas frying pan only to land in a Chicago fire. Almost every day of our short trip, the temperature in Chicago was as high or higher than that in Fort Worth, and with higher humidity.

Even so, Chicago is a great city and one of our favorite places to visit. There's always so much to do, the food is terrific, the art and architecture is a joy, public transportation is cheap and efficient, and Chicagoans are eager to share their city.

The heat slowed us down but didn't stop us. We enjoyed a great Cirque Shanghai show, "The Year of the Dragon," at Navy Pier. We did some comparison eating of deep dish pizza and decided that Lou Malnati's is clearly the best. We enjoyed a great improv show at the iO Club near Wrigley Field and attended concerts in the park.

We escaped the afternoon heat by roaming around the cool Art Institute.

On July 4, we hopped a bus towards the park around the Shedd Aquarium and Adler Planetarium, a recommended vantage point to watch the fireworks at Navy Pier. It must have been obvious we were unsure about where to get off the bus -- the route had changed due to the holiday -- because another passenger graciously offered her help. Lucky for us, La'Vena was going to watch the fireworks, too, so we all walked to the park together. We got to talking about this and that and the other, and before the evening was over we knew we had a made a new friend.

Of course, I took some snaps: Crown Fountain and Cloud Gate (AKA The Bean), the skyline at night, and some interior shots of the historic Hotel Burnham, where we stayed. Here's my Flickr photos.

Back in Barbados

We never do beach trips. Well, almost never: last year we went to Barbados for our anniversary and liked it well enough that surprise! here we are again, lounging on the shore.

We flew in last Saturday. The long five hour flight was pleasant enough -- Terri found a great deal on business class seats -- but we ran into some unpleasantness with a rude immigration agent because the AA flight attendant had given us incorrect information about the proper forms. We got that straightened out with an amiable agent and eventually were on our way, checking in at Southern Palms around 9.

Sunday morning we went out for breakfast. The first place we stopped at was crowded but with only one waiter, so we were the ones doing the waiting. We gave up after fifteen minutes and walked to another place further down the road. The waitress gave us menus and then, once more, we waited. And waited. We gave up and headed to yet a third place. We were promptly served one of the biggest breakfasts I've ever had: eggs and bacon and sausage and potatoes and baked beans and a huge stack of toast. Between the waiting and the eating, our breakfast excursion took two hours.

Sunday, our first full day here, Terri wanted us to go on a scenic bus tour provided by the Barbados Transport Board. That meant getting into Bridgetown, the capital, so we walked out to the main road to catch a bus. We waited and waited, but no bus. We did, however, see a 'route taxi' every minute or two, a mini-van packed with people that honked its horn, screeched to a stop and flung open a door when they saw us, but we waved them off. ('Route taxis' are a type of transport common in developing countries; the mini-vans travel along standard routes, often the same as the regular buses, picking up and dropping off passengers along the way. The driving can be fast and hazardous, and the passengers get to listen to loud reggae music as the van careens from stop to stop.) Again a route taxi stopped and this time the conductor was so insistent and persuasive that we hopped on board. We had been warned about these route taxis, but in the event all was fine, there were open seats, the people were friendly, we arrived safely, and the music was catchy.

After wandering around Bridgetown for a short while we got on a real bus for our 2 p.m. scenic tour. We began with 10 people on one bus but fifteen minutes later we were in a caravan of five buses, every one packed with families, mothers and grandmothers and children and infants and strollers and picnic coolers. What we thought was an outing for tourists turned out to be a popular way for Barbadians to get out and enjoy a Sunday afternoon. And the tour itself was over five hours long, up the middle of the island to Cherry Tree Hill, then over to the Atlantic coast, to Little Bay and River Bay, where we stopped at the picnic grounds. It was such fun and so pleasant to be with and talk to so many nice people enjoying themselves.

Monday morning went more smoothly, beginning with a hearty breakfast across the street. Around noon, almost 48 hours after we had arrived, I got to do what I most wanted to do all along: sit on the beach.

And that's what we did all day Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday. We begin by putting a couple of lounge chairs in the shade of a palm tree. We get up every so often and wade out into the cool, bracing surf. We lie in the sun sometimes. We move the lounge chairs as the sun travels overhead to keep them in the shade. We watch the waves and stare out at the beautiful blue waters.

I cannot capture in a photograph the sublime peace and contentment of sitting on a beach, but I have taken a few snaps nonetheless. Here's my Flickr photos.

Crystal Bridges

With nothing better to do, we drove to Arkansas on Tuesday. Over the last several months we had read news reports about Alice Walton and the new Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. A quick glance at Google maps showed that Bentonville was an easy day's drive away, so why not go see for ourselves?

After a lesiurely and pleasant six-hour drive up US 75/69 to I-40 then north on I-540, we were in Bentonville by 4 p.m. I didn't know what to expect, it being the World Headquarters of Walmart, AKA (An) Evil Empire, but the quaint central plaza and the surrounding town square were a surprise. Lots of benches, a fountain, charming shops and restaurants, and the original Walton's 5-10 (now made into a shrine to Sam Walton), what could be nicer?

We planned on spending a few hours at the museum on Wednesday but ended up staying there all day save for a break at dinner.

The buildings and grounds are amazing; we were in awe at what the Walmart billions have created. We ooh-ed and aah-ed at the architecture and enjoyed views from different levels and perspectives. Outside the museum is a beautiful park with lots of trails and elaborate landscaping; inside there are comfy chairs in cozy nooks and plenty of restrooms.

The collection itself is a bit mixed. There are quite a few good pre-Revolution and early U.S. pieces, a few delightful Sargents, and a smattering of other intriguing works, but there's a good deal of humdrum stuff, too. This is not humdrum:

This sculpture by Harriet Whitney Frishmuth is also quite lovely:

We had lunch at the museum café and were again surprised, this time by a tasty lunch in a beautiful setting.

We walked the trails, tried out a few benches, saw some more paintings, and wandered around until it was time to break for dinner at Table Mesa in the main square. Again we were pleasantly surprised, this time by an innovative menu and really good food. We went back to the museum (open until 9 p.m. on Wednesdays) to see what it was like at twilight. We had a last look at the Sargents and a few other pieces then took some farewell snaps from the parking garage.

Lest you think it was all fun and fluff, there were a few sour notes. We had to start our days listening to Fox News blaring its angry outrage in the hotel breakfast room, I saw too many Confederate flags (even one is too many), and local law prohibits the sale of alcoholic beverages except in bars and restaurants.

Thursday morning check-out time was not until noon, so we dawdled. We took a scenic drive through northeastern Oklahoma before making our way back to I-35, Texas, and the nearest Whataburger.

My camera, as usual, was not idle, and here's my Flickr snaps from the trip.

P.S. Oklahoma and Arkansas are much prettier than Texas.

Boston, Briefly

We flew to Boston Saturday morning and are flying back home today. We had no particular reason to come here, but couldn't think of a good reason not to come, either.

Saturday night we wandered amidst the party crowds in Quincy Market before having a great Thai dinner in Cambridge, near where we're staying. Sunday we spent most of the day at the Museum of Fine Arts, marveling at the John Singer Sargent portraits. I especially love the one of Mrs. Inches; I could stand and stare at her for hours on end.

For dinner, we headed to the North End for a pizza at Regina.

We had planned to do more museum-ing on Sunday but, waking up to beautiful blue skies and crisp temperatures, realized it would be silly to spend the day inside. So, transit passes in hand, we set out to explore Boston. We started in Cambridge, where we wandered around Harvard, then back to Lechmere, the park at CambridgeSide Galleria, along the Charles River to Longfellow Bridge and out Broadway to Kendall Square. From there we took the Red Line back to Boston Common, rode a Swan Boat in the Public Garden, ogled the Sargent murals in the Boston Public Library, then made our way up to the Aquarium.

We finished the day with a couple of ferry rides to Charlestown Navy Yard and back and a very pleasant dinner at Legal Sea Foods. To finish our meal, and complete our stay, I had some delicious Boston Cream pie.

If you'd like to see more, here's my Flickr snaps from the trip.

Lunch in Portugal

There are many reasons why I like Portugal, and having lunch is near the top of the list. Visiting a country means getting in tune with its rhythm of life, and I am especially happy to play along and make lunch the centerpiece of my day just as it is for many Portuguese.

Walk through any residential area and you'll find an amazing number of places to eat. My favorite catch-all term for these places -- confeitarias, cervejarias, restaurantes, and the like -- comes from our friend, the soon-to-be-famous travel personality Robert Wright, who calls them 'neighborhood joints.' Somewhat like the ubiquitous bars in Italy, these joints usually have a counter displaying snacks and pastries, making them convenient places to stop in during the day for a quick bite, an espresso, or a glass of wine or beer. There's also anywhere from two to twenty tables, and if the sidewalk is wide enough a table or three outside.

Hungry customers start coming in around 12:30 and by 1:00 the joint is packed and stays busy until 3:00 or so. There's usually a menu, often in several languages, but no one looks at it. The important information is the hand-written sign or blackboard announcing the Pratos do Dia, the Plates of the Day, generally a couple of fish dishes and a couple of meat dishes, maybe a soup, whatever the kitchen was able to get fresh that morning. And the 'plate of the day' is just that, a meal of fish/meat, some potatoes (boiled, roasted, or fried), and a vegetable served on a single largish plate.

After a day or two of experimentation I quickly found what I liked best: a small fish, usually dourada (bream) or robalo (snook), grilled simply with olive oil and perhaps garlic. Each day's lunch was thus a matter of walking up and down the street looking for a place that had the peixe grelhado (grilled fish) that I wanted. If no one had a whole fish, I'd go for a grilled garoupa (grouper) steak. These lunch plates range from about €5 to €7 ($6.50 to $9) and a half liter of house wine is €2 to €4.

Early in our trip we had lunch with Robert as he researched Lisbon's beautiful azulejos, ceramic tile art, for one of his upcoming guides. Not only did he introduce us to the great roasted chicken and hot piri piri sauce at Bonjardim but, more importantly, he helped us decipher the code of Portuguese eating.

Another highlight of our trip was a wonderful dinner at Tia Matilde with our dear friends Ana and Manny. We were lucky to meet them on our first night in Lisbon last year, and since then they have taught us so much about Portuguese life, culture, and food.

As usual, we did a lot of walking and a bit of museum-going, this time to the Museu de Arte Antiga and the National Azulejo Museum. Lisbon is a city of hills ringing a central valley; there are several remarkable miradouros, lookout points, and two of the best are very near our apartment in Largo da Graça. There are few things in life more pleasant than sitting at one of these miradouros and watching the city below, the colors shifting as the sun travels overhead.

After eight nights in Lisbon we took the train to Porto, our first visit there. We had a nice loft apartment in the Santa Caterina neighborhood not far from the Bolhão subway stop and the Via Caterina shopping mall. There was more walking and exploring, strolls across stupendous bridges spanning the Douro River, dinner at Abadia, a glimpse of what may be the world's smallest truck, a leisurely afternoon at the tasting rooms of Taylor and Offley port houses, and a jaunt on our last day out to the beach at Foz.

We had to leave very early Tuesday morning to catch a flight to Madrid and from there back to DFW. By 4:30 pm CDT we were back in Texas, talking wistfully about what a pleasant time we had and when we will go again.

Here's my Flickr snaps from the trip. For even more viewing pleasure, here's the slideshow version.

We're in Portugal

We arrived in Portugal last Thursday. We're having a wonderful time, visiting old friends and seeing new sights. The food is incredibly good. The apartment is perfect. We're in Lisbon until Friday, when we leave for Porto. It's such a delight to just be here that I am having trouble thinking of something to write. While I ponder, here's a few snaps on Flickr to look at.