Eyjafjallajokull and Me

Volcanic ash...in England? Yes, for that week in April (15th to the 20th) I found myself stranded in England along with an estimated 40,000 other American flyers by the volcanic ash from the eruption of Mt. Eyjafjallajokull in Iceland. Completely by chance, of course. I was on a 4 hour layover between Madrid and Raleigh waiting in the Heathrow American Airlines lounge when the news came on the telvision with images of the volcano. As the annoucer spoke of messages from the UK's Volcanic Ash Advisory Centre (VAAC) and the National Air Traffic Services (NATS) warning of impending flight cancellations, I watched with a sense of resignation as the flight board went red.

It was odd being cocooned in the lounge, or later to be walking around outside, and see no evidence of the ash at all. In fact, it was odd to be walking around London and have sunny, blue skies; which we had the week or so I was there. Stranded with a co-worker, who had arranged a 8 hour layover to speak at the BBC on his way between Dubai and Washington, DC, we spent most our time trying to figure out how to get off the island, interspersed with working in our hotel rooms and some sightseeing.

During those first days we made a trip out to Greenwich to visit the Royal Observatory; one of the few sights in London neither of us had seen. The water taxi ride up the Thames was pleasant and I recommend it. The Observatory was fascinating and nestled in the very pleasant Greenwich Park. It is the site of the invention in 1765 of the measurement of longitude (via clocks), the home of Greenwich Mean Time developed for that purpose, and the location of the Prime Meridian. Greenwich itself is a UNESCO World Heritage site and we ended the visit with ice cream in the Greenwich Market while waiting for our double-decker London bus back to the city. You can just see the volcanic particulate haze that was appearing on the London skyline in the picture of the Park below.

The attempt to escape was frantic. 40,000 stranded Americans was just the tip of the iceberg. It was the start of the British version of spring break, so add to that all the Europeans trying to get home or leave. And the cloud shut down most of Northern Europe as well, so add to that all the British not on the island trying to get back and all the other Europeans and Americans trying to get off the continent and get home. An estimated 17,000 European flights were cancelled on April 17th alone. The crush was overwhelming. Flights from the UK and other countries, were all rebooked and recancelled on a rolling daily basis.

Other transportation was not better. Very quickly everyone figured out the only way to get home was to leave the UK however possible. Ferries were booked solid weeks in advance. The only openings were for those who rode bicycles, and people bought them in droves at the coast so they could board only to abandon them in France, Spain, Portugal and the Benelux. The Eurostar was sold out for weeks, even after the government doubled the number of trains. Even the Queen Elizabeth 2 sold out. We considered trying to pay a fisherman cash to carry us across to France, but the prospect of joining droves of other pedestrians with luggage on the French coast with no forward transportation or place to stay was daunting.

Hotels were also a problem, as those trying to leave booked everything near transit and those who decided to wait it out booked everything in London. We had to change hotels regularly to find empty rooms. We finally moved out to Slough to save money and find rooms we could hold for a week. Ironically, the railroad's slogan was about being better connected?

We put in about 4 hours a day in Slough looking for ways to escape, interspersed with trips to Slough's laundromat, the Tesco and looking for something to eat other than the hotel's pint with fish and chips. We often ran into other stranded Americans doing exactly the same; a fraternity of sorts. We ended up eating a lot of Middle Eastern food. Ironic, as we had both just come from the Middle East.

The home office told us to just get home; cost was not an issue. In the end, we managed to secure seats on one of the extra Eurostar trains and went to Paris; though we had no onwards plan. We figured it had plenty of hotels and and more travel options to elsewhere.

We then sat at a cafe in the Gard du Nord with thousands of other people trying to figure out a plan. The experience was very French. The staff inside the station spoke little to no English, the menus were only in French and the attendant at the pay toilets could not produce correct change. The last is what struck me, as the line of needy people stretched out the door and down the hall, but the attendant would not let you in without exact change of 70 Euro cents as she'd run out of change. What traveler from outside the Euro zone (which excludes the UK and everyone on Eurostar) carries that? The entire experience was not service friendly for the majority of customers, who come from the UK and Eurostar.

Our plan at the time was to try to get to Madrid, which was not under the cloud. From there I could fly to Puerto Rico and back to Raleigh. My colleague could fly direct to Washington. Spain was a long way, and crowded with everyone else trying to escape. (The UK was picking British citizens up off the beach with naval vessels and shipping them home.) We also toyed with Vienna and Rome, which were at the edge of the ash.

While we were struggling through how to pee and get out from under the cloud that covered most of Europe, the US office called and said they had found us tickets to Dubai from Rome. Could we get to Rome? Since we both had to be back in Dubai in a few weeks anyway, we figured that was a better place to be stranded than Europe, so we decided to figure it out.

Most trains from France were booked solid with escapees. Madrid and Vienna trains were booked solid. We could make it to Munich only. Flights everywhere were booked solid. However, we could get an overnight train at midnight to Rome. When the office called, we chose Rome and headed off to the airport to spend time seeing if we could get standby on a flight to Rome, until we needed to leave for the Gard du Est for the Rome train.

The subway was another typically French experience. My colleague asked some French teens in English on one train if we had the right one and they told him "non". Of course we did, and I could tell from the kid's face he was intentionally misleading the "dumb American". I just added it to my life-long pile of negative experiences in France.

At Charles de Gaulle Airport, we drifted around several terminals looking for flights that were still on. The European flights terminal was empty and silent, except for JAL and Turkish Air. We tried getting on each; JAL to Tokyo was booked solid and the line of Japanese businessmen at security wrapped around the ticket hall. Turkish Air to Istanbul was also full, but here we were just stuck in line behind a pair of bickering Turks; which was oddly familiar and comfortable for both of us given our exposure to the region.

So we drifted over to the hall housing the US airlines. At this point, a week into the experience, there were a couple of flights out to Canada and the US. All others showed as cancelled, and more were cancelling as we watched the two-story board from a balcony. I am pleased to report however that the airport carpeting no longer stinks like cigarettes. CDG used to me my least favorite airport because the terminals stank like cigarettes.

Just then the US office called and said they had Air France tickets from Paris to Rome; could we make it? We flew down the terminal to the gate and were soon on board. The French scalped us USD 1000 a seat and stuck us on an Alitalia flight, but we made it to Rome. We arrived about 1 AM after a USD 70 taxi ride; too late for the hotel kitchen to serve us dinner. There was no Internet either of course at this Marriott, though it had a great view in the morning. Welcome to Italy.

Early next morning we arrived at the Rome airport to make a bid for standby seats home rather than flying to Dubai. We figured we'd just hang around ticket counters until our Dubai flight and see if we could get on. We were pleased to get standby status on our respective airlines, and my colleague went off to the United gates. I waited with a horde of anxious standby passengers at my gate waiting to see if I'd get on; I was last on the list. There were crying college students who were broke and had been sleeping in the airport; old Italians who did not understand what was going on; pushy international businessmen who knew the score; and a crew of 6 Italian American Airlines staff trying to sort out 20+ standby tickets and the crowd.

In the end, it all worked out and I made it on the flight home via Chicago. At that point I was happy to fly West to Chicago to fly East to Raleigh. It was better than some routing via Puerto Rico or Dubai. Ironically, the second erruption of Eyjafjallajokull cancelled my second return home the next month as well and I had to reroute via Frankfut. But that is a different story.

Some Time In The South

Over the last few years we have spent time exploring North Carolina. I had once believed I might live everywhere in the US but Dixie. It held no appeal. However, with my domestic wandering days behind me, here I now pleasantly sit.

North Carolina has three regions. From West to East they are the Blue Ridge Mountains, the Piedmont, and Coastal Plain. Each offers something unique, attractive and within a 4 hour drive. The mountains are a cool escape in the summer and a winter wonderland. The beach is pleasant in the summer as well, though the hurricane season is not so much.

North Carolina has interesting history those outside the state would probably never learn. It started out as a privately owned colony run as a business by English owners. It eventually became owned by the Crown like the other colonies, though North Carolinians like the Regulators did not like the taxation that came with it presaging the Revolution. They fought the Governor's militia at the Battle of Alamance over taxation and rights in 1771. North Carolina's status meant it was only populated and developed enough to run as an agricultural plantation and was (and still is) sparsely populated.

No permanent capital like Williamsburg here, until Tryon Palace was built right before the Revolution in New Bern. During the Revolution the Loyalists remained trapped there after the patriot militia used cannon on the mostly Scotch Highlander forces wielding their basket-hilt swords and targes at the Battle of Moore's Creek Bridge in 1776. The victory led to North Carolina being the first colony to declare independence from Great Britain.

North Carolina does have a fascinating, preserved colonial-period town at Old Salem established by German Moravians. It is still possible there to sleep in a period tavern and eat off pewter plates by candlelight.

The State likes to highlight it linkages to Blackbeard the Pirate, who was pardoned by the Governor of all previous piratical acts and settled in Bath off Ocracoke Inlet after burning his flagship Queen Anne' Revenge on a North Carolina sand bar. Of course, the Royal Governor of Virginia invaded North Carolina with militia and Britiah Royal Navy personnel to kill him off and haul his crew back to Williamsburg to stand trial. High schools here regularly call themselves the Pirates, Buccaneers, et al. and the Revenge has been found and preserved as a historical site.


North Carolina also has its share of Civil War ironclads. The CSS Neuse was built, sunk and discovered a century later at the bottom of the Neuse River in Kinston. It only action was to delay Union land forces from New Bern from reaching the railhead at Goldsboro during the Battle of Wyse Fork on March 8-10, 1865. Today, enthusiasts are rebuilding it in Kinston.

The sinking of the Neuse was closely followed by the Battle of Bentonville (March 19-21), being General Sherman's last major battle following his destructive "March to the Sea," the end of the CSA Army of Tennessee, and the last major engagement of the Civil War. Every 5 years the Last Charge of the Army of Tennessee is reenacted by enthusiasts from all over the United States (Some 2500 strong) on the national park site not far from our house. The final surrunder of remaining CSA forces occured April, 1865 at Bennett Place in the next county over. University of North Carolina's athletic moniker the "Tar Heels" comes from North Carolinians who served with the Army of Tennessee, who were called Tar Heels because they never gave ground. To this day North Carolina is known as the Tar Heel State.

Today's North Carolina offers world class symphony orchestra, opera company, ballet and museums of all kinds near our home. I enjoy singing with the chorus. Our family particularly enjoys its state-of-the-art, 500 acre, state zoo in Asheboro. The Piedmont is also host to a variety of wineries and surprisingly good German ethnic eateries.

When the weather is too hot in the Piedmont, we can drive to the Blue Ridge and enjoy sites like the Nature Convervancy's Grandfather Mountain (site of the annual Highland Games), the Yadkin Wine Valley and the beauty of the Biltmore estate. The mountains remind us of Utah and the altitude and summer temperatures fend off the mosquitos.

And if none of the above appeals, there is always the beach. We have been to the Cape Fear beaches and look forward to visiting those of the Outer Banks sooner rather than later; the birthplace of flight (though some in Ohio dispute that).

The Faces Of Poverty

A few days ago, after returning from another trip to Haiti, it occured to me that I might be spending a great deal of my paid time in the poorest places on earth. That might perhaps be why I see the world as having two faces; the well-off and the absolute poor. So I looked it up.

Sure enough, measured in GDP per capita that is exactly what I do. Moldova is Europe's poorest country. Haiti is the poorest in the Americas. Afghanistan is the poorest in Asia. The only country I am missing, and the poorest on Earth, is Burundi in Africa (which I am trying not to visit any time soon).

Compare the following average annual per capita GDPs for example; Moldova USD 1,400 (tied with Djibouti and Papua New Guinea), Haiti USD 800 (tied with Benin, Cambodia, Chad, Kenya, Laos, Lesotho and the Solomon Islands) and Afghanistan USD 400 (tied with the Central African Republic and in the bottom 10 countries of the world). That's USD 33 to 117 a month. Egypt isn't much better than Moldova at USD 2,100.

I actually lived in one of these places for a year. Even with money it was not pleasant. Daily living just grinds down the soul. For example, this

fellow is selling phone calls from a wireless phone at a gas station. Most Haitians can't make phone calls any other way. There are no public phones (or other utilities of any kind) in most places and many can't afford services on cell phones.

To provide perspective, the opposite ends of spectrum are Lichtenstein in Europe (USD 145,700), the US in the Americas (USD 46,900) and Qatar in Asia (USD 124,000). It is the difference between skyscrapers and mud brick houses, clean tapwater and brackish wells with buckets, hospitals and buying pharmaceuticals by the pill from street vendors.

I have an ever-shrinking tolerance for people who complain about not getting what they deserve; not having the latest thing-a-ma-bob; not being treated fairly. I think it comes from walking the streets and rubbing shoulders with these people on a monthly basis. I suspect many of our immigrant ancestors were very like these people; resilient, clever, resourceful and patient. It makes me wonder what untapped genetic potential is yet lying in reserve in ourselves generations later, waiting for a real challenge?

In Timeless Company

On my most recent trip to Egypt, I made some time to walk in the footsteps of kings, philosophers and priests on both the "living," or eastern, and "dead" western sides of the Nile. While it was a far different experience than visiting the Pyramids or the catacombs of Alexandria, it was no less inspiring.

The ancient Egyptians believed that in addition ot preparing and preserving their bodies, organs and souls for the most pleasant possible afterlife, that the quality of their afterlife would also be improved the more people remembered them. In this the New Kingdom Pharohs surpassed their Pyrmaid bulding ancesters of 3500 years before. Their crypts were hidden from view. But their temples on the Nile's side of the living to this day inspire mention and rememberance of their names. So in a sense they have succeded.

This image is of the priests' court of the Temple of Ramses III (1186-1157 BC) at Medinet Habu outside Luxor (ancient Thebes). The Temple is impressive. It has three courtyards, which range from the outer for daily exercises of the soldiery, the central for rites to the gods and the inner solely for the mummification of the Pharoh. To invoke memory of the Pharoh the pylons are decorated with scenes of the Pharoh subjugating 316 kingdoms and riding over the enemy with his chariot. The outer gates are unique; designed as gates from Babylon where the Pharoh learned of the technique while subjugating the kingdom. They even sport carved heads of enemy kings hanging from the walls (which was common practice in those days).

Just as impressive is the reconstructed Temple of Hatshepsut (1479-1457 BC), located on the side of the dead. The only female Pharoh in Egypt's history, she set out to make as big a splash as possible to be remembered. She built her unique Temple into the mountainside at what is now called Deir al-Bahari. As the only way she could be accepted as Pharoh was as a man, she was known to have dressed as one in life and death. And just to assure her phallic point was remembered, hers is the tallest obelisk at the Temple of Amun-Re. It was tipped in gold, as the older Pyramids.

The Temple of Amun-Re (Karnak) in Luxor (ancient Thebes) is the site of over 2000 years of worship of the sun god Amun-Re. Walking its paths keeping this in mind is humbling. The Temple is scattered with various additions, revisions and subtractions made by the Pharohs from 2056 BC to the Ptolomaic Greeks and Romans in 395 AD. And for all that time the worship of the sun god persisted.

The Greeks too made their mark. While in Alexandria quite by chance I stumbled across the remains of a part of the ancient Musaeum of Alexandria. Thinkers taught in its halls and invented scientific principles like Euclid's geometry, Archimedes' pi, the scientific method, human vivisection, the mechanical organ, and measurement of the circumference of the Earth, among others. Crunching the gravel under my feet I tried to imagine walking in sandels and a toga while pondering the area of a circle, or sitting in a lecture by Plato in the theater.

Even without pyramids the Pharohs still fascinate. The New Kingdom Pharohs are all buried in a small valley (Valley of the Kings) under a mountain with the proportions of a pyramid. The idea was to be buried in unmarked graves to prevent the robbery of the earlier Pyramids. They really are almost indistinguisable from the rock slides around them.

These modest graves resonate with names like Ramses II, III (the largest grave) and IX, Seti I and of course Tutankhamun. Painted with colors ground and separated from onyx stone, they are still vibrant and memorable. The crypts were meant to be homes for the resurrected Pharohs, decorated with chapters from the Book of the Dead to provide guidance during the journey to the afterlife. The gods, wearing their animal masks, and ankhs, symbols of duality, abound. They attract visitors to their intriguing walls, keeping the Pharohs alive thousands of years later.

In Trajan's Footsteps

The Roman Emperor Trajan is most famous for his defeat of the Dacians in what is present day Romania, Moldova and parts of Bulgaria. He has a monument in Rome in his own Forum marking the event, neither of which I've yet seen.

I did however get to visit the Colosseum, or the Flavian Ampitheater as it is properly called, on a recent layover on my way to Moldova. It was a fitting stop, as Trajan apparently held games there commemerating his victory involving 7,000 gladiators and 10,000 wild animals.

The Flavian dynasty was founded by Emperor Vespasian, famous for his involvement in the Roman conquest of Britain, as well as the Siege of Jerusalem and the fall of Masada, led by his son Titus. Ironically, Vespasian's son Domitian is known for being unable to defeat the Dacians led by King Decebalus whom Trajan later destroyed. Titus later reigned during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius which buried Pompeii.

Vespasian constructed the modern day Colosseum as a way to entertain the rebellious masses who had played a key role in overthrowing his predecessor Nero. Performances were accompanied by free bread and wine for all attendees, part of the origins of the term "bread and circuses". Entrace was also free. Seating was by social status, with the nobility at ringside and the poorest women on the fourth or uppermost tier. There were 64 numbered doors to let spectators in and out that were called vomitoria. Door numbers corresponded with where citizens lived in the city, so each person knew their place.

The tallest Roman structure, the Colosseum could hold 87,000 spectators and several hundred wild animals. The colosseum was about 160 feet high and covered about six acres. For all that, the first thing I noticed when I visited was that it is much smaller than I had imagined it. After Soldier Field, it seemed quite cozy. Movable awnings called velarium manned by imperial sailors provided the spectators with shade from the sun. The outside of the Flavian amphitheater has three rows of arches, each built according to a different order of architecture, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian.

There were substructures under the fighting areas that included animal dens. Recent research suggests that contrary to popular belief Christians were not generally fed to wild animals in the Colosseum. However, it was a common sentence for most crimes during the period in the Roman Empire, and feedings occured during the mid-day break and at the end of the day's events. For centuries the Colosseum was marked by shrines to Stations of the Cross and the Pope today begins his visit to Stations of the Cross in the Colosseum on Good Friday.


Before he held his celebration in the Colosseum, Trajan first journeyed to Romania and defeated the Dacians. He made the journey on foot with a mixed army of Romans and foreign mercenaries. I thought about this as I was flying to Moldova, as I found my American Airlines tickets were sold and resold to subcontracting Hungarian, Italian and Moldovan airlines. I wondered if Trajan wondered who he was actually fighting for when he finally arrived?

Fortunately, Moldova has a tremendous wine-making industry that was brought to the world stage under the Roman Empire. It has blossomed since the collapse of the Soviet Union and exports all over the world. One local variety, Negru de Purcari, has been ordered by the British royalty since Queen Victoria. This apparently makes it very popular with today's Japanese.

During my trip I made a visit to Miliestii Mici, the largest wine collection in the world, where you take the cellar tour in your car driving through the barrels. The tour is topped off with a four course meal and a variety of wines on offer and samples to take home. Fortunately, I had my wine travel bag so my bottles made it home safely.

Around The World And Back Again

Over the last 90 days I have had the opportunity visit several of the world's cities built by colonialism and trade; Singpore, Hong Kong and Panama City. Perhaps the most remarkable thing I have to report is that they are generally unremarkable. Uniformly consisting of tall buildings of glass, oceanfront views, traffic congestion and upscale shopping, they were all a welcome relief from my usual travel fare. However, I could have stayed home and experienced the same thing?

Perhaps the most interesting part of my most recent travel was that I flew around the world. To the Flat Earth Society, I thumb my nose. Raleigh--New York--Hong Kong--Singapore--London--Raleigh is not quite a full circumfurential route, but 20,000 miles later I count it as close enough. (The Earth's circumference is 24,901.55 miles at the equator.)

Of the three cities Singapore was perhaps the most interesting. I loved its blend of cultures and people. A majority of its population is Chinese, with substantial Malay and Indian minorities. Its British colonial founders gave it the gift of English as a national language which makes it convenient for the Chinese- and Malay-challenged traveler like me. While the heat was oppresive, the fresh tropical foods were a pleasant change from my usual fare of overcooked (safe) meat and French fries. I took the opportunity to learn about its history and that of neighboring Hong Kong in between snoozes on the long flight over by reading an excellent history titled Empire's End by John Keay which a good friend had given me many years before.

With its fusion of Asian cultures, Singapore provided excellent one-stop exposure to the people of the region. I had the opportunity to visit the Asian Civilizations Museum which had exhibits on each of the peoples of South East Asia. There was even a special travelling exhibit from the People's Republic of China on the Kangxi Emperor (1662-1722) with fascinating examples of the Mandarin civil service exam, silk textiles and arms and armor of the Emporer with a distinctly Central Asian flair. I was particularly struck by the signature stamps, which I had only read about previously and seen on some artwork. I topped this off with a visit to a Mahayana Buddhist temple and shopping in Chinatown for silk garments from Shanghai. In all a whirlwind cross-cultural experience.

However, I can honestly say that our family vacation to Hilton Head Island upon my return was infinitely more enjoyable; mostly because of the time I spent with my family. Imagine travelling around the planet only to find that there is "no place like home," or at least a nearby beach.

Albanian Connections

Over the last several months I have spent a number of days in Tirana, Albania. It is not a place I ever imagined I would find myself, so I was surprised by how pleasant it is. It is a small town with a city center that can be walked from any point to any other. Lots of trees, green spaces and modest high rise buildings compliment a quaint atmosphere.

In fact, it reminded me much of Chisinau. Moldova and Albania share the unfortunate distinction of being the two of the three poorest countries in Europe (per capita GDP). So prices for almost everything are low and there is little exotic to be had. The basics are all available in abundance. Just few high priced ticket items or entertainment outlets. A nice place to raise children would be a good assessment. Not too flashy, yet wholesome. Kind of like the kids on the gas-powered ATVs driving the downtown center square.

Like the Moldovans, the Albanians take pride in the little they do have; primarily their history and culture. In learning about it, I was struck by how often I continue to find relationships between events and places which you would think have no bearing on one another.

Consider, for example, that the hotel where I stay when in Cairo is a converted palace built by the son of Ottoman ruler who conquered Egypt and created its modern national identity. I had no idea Mehmet Ali was an Albanian. You certainly can't tell from the palace design.

Or consider Albanian languages. I understand Albania has a Vlach minority. I had hoped to test my Romanian on these speakers of a different form of the language while wandering the countryside, but it did not happen. I was however able to read some Albanian, as some of the vocabulary is from Turkish as is some Romanian.

Simiarly, some Albanian-speaking Roma in Albania called themselves Egyptians and claim to originate in Egypt. It is odd that the Egyptian connection should surface again on the shores of the Adriatic. I saw some "Egyptians" at a cafe in Tirana one afternoon. They are indeed strikingly different, though they do not look like any Egyptians I have ever seen.

Fortunately, I was able to handle the menus because they were in Italian. The Italian puppet state under King Zog in Albania, and then Fascist Italian occupation of Albania, left a mark on cuisine and urban life in Tirana which remains to this day. The Italians rebuilt the main street of the city in a distinctly Roman style and all the major restaurants serve Italian food. Lucky for me, as I can read and order from an Italian menu. English is a rarity in Albania. Italian and French are far more common second languages.

As if this isn't coincidence enough, then there are the Bektashi. Bektashi is a gnostic form of Islamic faith in Albania based on variety of sufism. As if by design, I happen to be reading a book on the origins of Gnosticism in Central Asia at the time and was able to slip into this important element of Albanian national identity fairly easily.