Category Archives: travel

So, the old joke goes like this:

An American was visiting a British coastline that was littered with rocks the size of cabbages.  Big, smooth, water-eroded stones.  Not a grain of sand to be seen anywhere.  Just huge rocks big enough to anchor a small yacht.  Stumbling along the shoreline, the American ran into an Englishman and his wife who were going, “To the beach,” and were chatting about all the “pebbles” everywhere.

The American chuckled and said, “Pebbles?  What the hell do you people call a rock?”

The Englishman glances at the American and says, with typical British understated reserve, “Gibraltar.”

Today we look at Gibraltar, a stop Ursula and I made in December during a cruise.  Unfortunately, the weather did not hold on this part of the trip.  Visibility at the top was obscured, and misty clouds formed on the leeward side.

Nevertheless, the Barbary Macaques were ever-present to give a show, and one never needs good weather when inside St. Michael’s Cave.  Fortifications dot the Rock of Gibraltar, including the Moorish Castle pictured below.  On the ascent you will find a monument denoting Gibraltar’s mythic importance as one of the ancient Pillars of Hercules.

Anyway, sorry for the image quality.  Sometimes, no matter how well prepared the photographer, Mother Nature has other plans for your shooting endeavors.

Our final stop this trip, and the whole raison d’être for this journey, was where it began—Washington, D.C.  As you’ll recall, I was asked to go to Capitol Hill to assist the National Air Traffic Controllers Association with their congressional visits this year.  In all, I visited with staffers from four congressional offices and with one real, live congressman—my very own representative, Congressman Sylvestre Reyes from Texas’ 16^th Congressional District.  But more on that boring stuff in a later blog.  Let’s get down to the fun stuff.

You simply cannot go to Washington and get the most out of your visit without a camera.  There are simply far too many photo opportunities in such a relatively small area.  Of instance, since I was up on Capitol Hill, I took a bunch of photographs related to that one feature.  And if you’re in front of the Capitol, you’re also in line with the National Mall and the Washington Monument that anchors the Mall at the end opposite of the Capitol.

Running along both sides of the National Mall are various venues of the Smithsonian Institution.  So, while I was visiting various congressional offices, Ursula and my oldest daughter, MSgt Cherry Fleming (USAF), made the rounds not only at the Museum of Natural History (and, no, dear, I’m not buying for you the Hope Diamond . . . it’s cursed), but also the Vietnam, Korean, and World War II Memorials and the memorials for Presidents Lincoln and Jefferson.  Unfortunately, I was unable to accompany them and produce a photographic record of their adventures.

That’s not to say I didn’t also enjoy a little sightseeing.  After my visits were over, and Cherry left us to report back to work, Ursula and I visited two of my favorites—the National Gallery of Art and the National Air and Space Museum (hey, I am a former air traffic controller, remember?)

Unfortunately, the National Art Gallery is a bit touchy about photographing their exhibits, so my pictures there were limited to architectural items of interest.  That’s really unfortunate, because on this trip we got to see the incredible Chester Dale Collection of impressionist and modern works, a fantastic Paul Gauguin exhibit (Gauguin: Maker of Myth), and an unbelievable collection of 18^th Century Venetian landscapists (Venice: Canaletto and His Rivals) including the incomparable works of Canaletto, his equally talented nephew Bernardo Belloto, and other contemporaries.

Luckily, there are no such prohibitions on photography in the National Air and Space Museum, so I got to go a little nuts with some shots that really cried out for some creative cropping.

We were finished with our museum tour when disaster struck.  American Airlines texted Ursula with the news that our flight was cancelled, “ . . . due to weather.”  Now, here’s why I hate flying nowadays.  Weather?  There was no weather in the Dallas/Fort Worth area, where we were to change planes for El Paso.  The weather was the day before the cancellation.  It was now an equipment delay, as American was still checking over their aircraft for hail damage.  But if they blame the weather, they get out of paying for your unscheduled stay.

Note:  Nice try, American, but you haven’t heard the last on that one.  Using your definition of a “weather delay,” you could deny reimbursement months after any weather incident that damaged an aircraft enough to take it out of service.  You really think that’s going to fly (pardon the pun) when I file my complaint with DoT?

Thus, after securing following day accommodations on Delta (another long story, but the short version is that American “reserved” us on a Delta flight that they knew to be overbooked just to get us away from the counter), we took more reasonable accommodations in Alexandria.  The hotel staff uniformly raved about a restaurant called Clyde’s, and even shuttled us over there for dinner.  Well, all I can say is, this dinner almost made up for the American Airlines debacle.  Almost, American, but not quite . . . especially as you guys didn’t even spring for dinner because of your equipment problems.

So, here we go.  Pictures of everything from Capitol Hill to the Washington Monument and lots in between, followed by a pictorial tour of Clydes.  Enjoy:

Theme parks.  Crowded, noisy, hot, and expensive . . . and that’s just the parking lot.  How someone can with a straight face charge you $18 to use their parking facilities—just minutes before they hit you up for another $64 per person at the entry gate—is beyond me.  What brass!  Then, on top of that, the prices of food and even a bottle of water?  It’s enough to make a grown mouse cry.

But we’re not even talking about the theme park a cartoon mouse built.  We’re talking about the theme park a mediocre beer and some stately looking Clydesdales built.  We’re talking here about Busch Gardens Europe (Europe by way of Williamsburg, Virginia, that is), and at prices that would make Rick Steves swear off “European” travel for good.  Yep, I’d just love to see ol’ Rick survive in Busch Gardens Europe on a buck eighty-seven a day.  He’d never get into the parking lot!

But a true photographer can find interesting shots anywhere, and that was my assignment for this past Saturday—trying to make a theme park actually look like fun.  So, I ignored the very rude, very young teen with the family friendly T-shirt (“Disrespect me and I’ll smash off your #@&%ing face”—But, hey, at least it was grammatically correct in that it avoided the normal split infinitive).  I even ignored the same little twit when he deliberately dumped his lunch trash on the ground directly in front of the trash bin— in front of his parents I might add—and then walked away while laughing about it.

Note to Busch Gardens—Want to attract more families?  Then this is the kind of scummy little trash you want to keep out of your parks.  And his parents, too.

Anyway, we did enjoy some of the animal exhibitions, especially since Little Mr. Disrespect wasn’t there to pull the wings off the barn owls to the delight of his ever-doting parental units.  We also rather enjoyed the rhythmic, harmonious crescendo of terrified screams cascading over us from the roller-coaster riders all around hurtling toward the ground at Mach .87.

Someday I’ll return to Virgina.  Some day I’ll go back through the Shenandoah.  Someday I’ll revisit the incredible Outer Banks of North Carolina.  But someday will never again come for Busch Gardens Europe.  I have all the pictures I need of that place.

And I’ll bet you thought all my travel blogs were fluff pieces.  After today you’ll not think that again.