OR, MY CHANCE AT SHRUGGING OFF PHOBIAS AND GETTING DARK AND DEEP.
Cenote, from the incorrect Spanish pronunciation of the Yucatan Mayan word ts’ono’ot (dzonot) or “well with water”. However these underground and sometimes over ground places (leading to the underground) were venerated magical and sacred sites used for ceremonies. Their Underworld was a place for death and life or xibalba, evoking the type of rebirth that I clumsily have tried to express, where you can grow your consciousness and overcome all the negative that has swamped your soul in the earthly realm. Where the Mayan Gods dwell.
Look at top of photo, only a thin amount of rock separates cave and house above
I love you all, my naughty old birds out there, let’s get to some more happiness and actually bravery on my behalf, a harsh climb down into the bowels of the earth to a magical cave without fairies but a whole bunch of mystical energy. You’ll have to use your imagination a whole load as it was too surreal for belief, and didn’t tolerate photos well. The fancy pics I’ve seen have been heavily doctored and certainly taken with a better camera than my dirty old phone one. It’s better for you to imagine this small cavern complex and derive the same chills and fierce energy through words and imagination.
My collectivo van from Merida was finally simple to get and oh what heaven to escape from the sad remnants of that fine city of Merida. I squeezed on the very busy little bus with my bags half on my lap and half under my legs and basically in the way wherever I squidged them, but at least I was on my way. The tourists aboard seemed terribly excited to escape also, it seems that I wasn’t the only person crushed with disappointment with Merida’s recent unpleasant and frenetic transformation. We bumped along merrily for an hour on boring roads and motorways until suddenly we turned off and the scenery completely changed. We were on the extensive reserve of Homun. An oasis of cenotes and ranches and a place to escape to. Instantly I felt calmed and we tourists were hushed. The locals gradually got off in their various villettes for a normal days work and we waited to also be disgorged from the bus for more glamorous escapades.
Palms and unmade roads on the way to my tucked away heaven
My stop was on the main road before the centre and involved a short walk dragging my case up a small road away from civilisation. I finally felt at peace and knew in my heart that I was coming home. This dusty track was leading me to happiness and would soothe my soul.
Upon arrival just ‘Hostal’ sufficed and the mummy dog seeking shade
The hand painted signs periodically nailed to trees announcing ‘Hostal Oro Verde’ kept my spirits up as I left the tarmac and was on a single path leading into the countryside. Cows mooed, dogs barked and birdies sang, but above all my path was strewn with butterflies that would be disturbed by my footfall and fly up in clouds of glorious colours. Mostly orange but also yellow and some mauve. It was then I noticed the heady aroma of grass and wild herbs and it was then that I knew I would finally be able to rest my weary head, for this indeed was paradise.
At sunset before it gets really nippy
AT LAST, HOME SWEET HOME.
My table outside so I could monitor all who went by like a good nosy neighbour
OR, A BIT OF JUNGLE AND ATMOSPHERE AFTER THE NEWLY RUINED YUCATAN.
I’m not going to bang on today about the shit stuff that I experienced wandering around Mexico at the end of last year, oh I’m not a whiner, you know me better than that. Yesterday is yesterday, fair does.
Becán
While researching this I came across RománPiña Chan, a very famous archaeologist, a tragic afterthought in Mexican research history, specifically that of Becan where he had the accident on that ill fated day. I wanted to include him as he sounded a dear, meek man who suffered hugely for his passion. Bedbound for seventeen years after the spirits of Becan let him fall to his fate.
A unique quiet moment to enjoy the classical arched corridor
Below is his small obituary, as modest it would seem as he was, and although translated quirkily I feel fitting for the man who it seems also discovered the Olmec figures and contributed hugely to the field
✔ Posthumous tribute to the archaeologist in the National Museum of Anthropology
Piña Chan was a generous being and always needed know yourself loved and accepted, says Beatriz Barba
ത Locate the recent find in Becán, Campeche, as part of his legacy
JIMENEZ ARTURE
In 1984, Román Piña Chan fell from a pyramid from the archaeological zone of Becán, an accident that although not managed to remove him from the investigation, the reflection and teaching did limit their ability to move.
OR TRAVELLING TO A TOWN THAT’S LOST ITS IDENTITY AND HEART. POOR XPUHIL.
Me praying to the Mayan gods at Calakmul that no more damage would be done to their sacred land
Alert: Latest article about Tren Maya that proves what I say in the below account has turned out right! It’s white elephant era has begun surprisingly quickly! Don’t want to say I told you so but, I told you so he he!!! Apparently it’s being operated by the military? I don’t know about you but a military run tourist route never has left me with a warm and snuggly feeling in my belly as a traveller. Do read the article it’s accidently extremely funny. It also says
“Today, the Maya Train is not a tourist product that can be offered. There are no clear routes, there are no defined prices, not even the schedules are well established,” he commented noting that travel agencies have not yet had any contact regarding train promotion.
“If they had a developed product, they would be here at tourist events, explaining what time it leaves, how much it costs, in what languages it is available. But we don’t know anything, everything remains a mystery,”
In other words it’s a huge cock up!
Good old Trans Siberian Express an iconic train if ever there was one
Alert: Here I mostly ramble on about getting to the prime archaeological sites area and the place I used as a base, Xpujil or Xpuhil. The inner fury I felt upon having seen first hand, Tren Mayas long hard line of destruction and devastation of the area rather overtook my original intention of just writing about the sites that I went to. Mexico generally had been a shocker since my last visit and sadly you can clearly hear my disappointment in a place that just three years ago I had worshipped. If you don’t care then I will publish a post tomorrow about the actual sites I went to while there!
And so back to the post:
The Journey to Xpuhil
Me praying to the Mayan gods at Calakmul that no more damage would be done to their sacred land
Riding on the bus away from beastly Bacalar and started on my real road trip! Hooray I’m leaving and going to revisit Xpuhil to use as a base to visit surrounding archaeological sites that I missed last time. I celebrated on that bus to Chetumal after dragging my case miles from my little pension in the midday sun, and was ready to wait there for a couple of hours to get my connection. So in theory I should arrive at my cabin before it’s too late to feel safe, although it will be dark. Upon my joyous arrival (I had so hated Bacalar that any shit hole was now paradise!) I also found that I could buy an earlier ticket upon arrival the bus station, which was a huge relief, rather than the later one which would have involved me waiting five hours and much sighing and whining. However, I still had over an hour to kill and I was suddenly famished.
OR, MY FIRST WEEK BACK IN MEXICO AFTER OVER THREE YEARS.
Just think what’s ahead of you when you arrive!
Long trip from London, little did I know I’d be travelling for over twenty hours. Harsh work indeed!
THE FLIGHT AND JOURNEY.
The flight over was truly dreadful, long very cold and boring. BA sure has changed and taken a nosedive in many ways! That can count literally as they have a fleet of the now infamous Boing aircraft (bits didn’t fall off our plane I don’t think) , however the food, service and general vibe was awful, a kind of Easyjet with fangs. The crew had no manners and there is no leg space at all. I was lucky my lucky dip seating had given me an aisle seat. I would suggest taking your own food as theirs is inedible. They served pretend chicken for both meals that I wouldn’t feed my dog.
OR, CULTIVATE PLANTS TO COOK YOUR WAY TO OTHER COUNTRIES!
Chemtrails above my building
I was just was looking through my blogs seeing as I have failed miserably on keeping up to date with my trials and tribulations this year. When I looked at this it showed me how poorly my terrace had functioned this year.
Before and after as planes showered us with Aluminium and other heavy metals. The sky had been blue before
After a huge inundation of heavy metals via chemtrails over Central London all year, most of my stuff failed to grow or was feeble and dwarf, for this reason I was suspicious of even eating any of it. Anyone who had had an inundation from the skies reported low crop yield to me, and indeed, some crops not having their normal textures. For example, potatoes that looked normal were very heavy and hard, they required longer cooking and then were bland and tasteless.
Two years ago?
My beans and peas failed on the vine and even my gourds wilted on the vine leaving only one unhappy tiny survivor that refused to swell and flourish. My figs also failed after trying hard early in the year and finally I pulled all my crops in disgust and fury.
How long will it take people to realise that in poisoned areas we won’t even be able to grow our own food, if these deliberate acts of violence against humanity continue? It’s openly admitted on the Government website that ‘geoengineering’ is in full swing in the name of global warming and that dozens of patents are up and running. Indeed the manmade hurricane manipulation instead of being used for the good is being used as a tool of evil, otherwise surely they could move then away from places of human habitation.
Just saying.
MORE CHEERFULLY,
Went out to Theydon Bois Epping with my pal for a woodland walk and picnic, the fungi seem to be faring better.
More specifically the bracket fungus that were everywhere, it’s a very beautiful ancient woodland and there at least you can find some magic and awe.
Alert: Off to Mexico to volunteer and have a break finally at the end of this month so I’ll stop whining. Love you all xxxxx
July 28th 2022
Abundance!
Since I last checked in my terrace jungle has blessed me with more than enough produce than I need on a daily basis. Despite the chemtrails it seems that my lovely jungle is thriving. I would highly recommend that people grow their own fruit and veg on their terraces if land isn’t available to them in the form of an allotment or a friends garden.
Lemon cucumbers
I have shared with neighbours and even after eating greedily and still was able to freeze three portions of beans yesterday! I also have frozen some squash as I did earlier this year with some of my brothers crop.
I’ve been eating salad of herbs, lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes and nasturtium every day and have had various combos of calaloo, squash, beans and potatoes for my veg with my dindins!
In its hammock
I have to confess that the naughty squash do like to grow outside the railings so I had to invent and make some string hammocks for them except for one big boy that grew between the railings just to make my life more complicated!
Monster squash, black and green beans , tomatoes, lemon and gherkin cucumbers
I had a drama getting it in as it weighed 2.9 kg. I sweated and swore as I perilously cut it with one hand and with the other wiggled it out from the railings, then lifted it over while tangled up with all the vines. They are quite prickly too, so with my trembling arms I navigated it over to safety! It was worth doing as I was terrified it would fall off and kill someone walking innocently below! Dangerous beasts.
Homemade grana bread rolls with added seeds
I’ve also just started making my own bread. I’d forgotten it’s not a drama at all and so much more healthy and cheap. Take the bull by the horns girls and do it! The smell in the kitchen is amazing and it makes you feel all warm and safe. This goes side by side with making my own soap, body butter and tooth paste. You can escape all the nasty fluorides and chemicals that’s in the commercial crap. I’ll keep you posted on recipes and ingredients shortly but I have to run now!
Delicious spuds and calaloo with organic smoke salmon and butter
Alert: although this had been written in a rambling way you’ll have to excuse me! Much like this whole experience, it’s been penned as an ongoing experiment. Just how do you gather your thoughts when undertaking far too many things? I’m happy that my life is busy with things I am passionate about but it does lead to cutting corners. Anyhow, I’ll correct and add later in my very impatient old bird way. Publish and be damned!
My first lettuces cohabiting with my poor fig tree which now is a much happier specimen
See the happy fig tree in the jungle?
If you can’t get away but want to conjure up recipes with vegetables and herbs from distant parts of the world, get gardening and grow more exotic stuff than you can get locally. If you have access to a farmers market make sure the stall is organic at the least, biodynamic even better. The stuff I didn’t have time to grow this season might be available. There are weird and wonderful as well as things like stinging nettles that are extremely good for you.
While looking wistfully through James Wong’s Homegrown Revolution’ the other day, and seeing an article about growing potatoes on Mars, (yes you heard me right) I started to look at all the remarkable, lesser-known and easily grown, veggie stuff you could have ready this year to create an imaginary trip to another part of the planet in your garden and kitchen.
My little figgies
Now since originally writing this, I had to recognise I was running out of time to grow anything, let alone start with more exotic stuff and only managed to get non-GMO organic calaloo seeds on the go so I’ll just have to show you how I did on my small terrace in Soho with the more conventional fruit and veg.
Wakey, wakey! Morning everyone! Well it is morning that’s for sure and I’m off to the gym, spa and yoga before lunchtime concert at the reference library, my temple now, my sacrosanct place of quiet and reflection. So without further ado off I trot with my new healthy lifestyle and philosophy.
Confucius He Say…..
After my previous months of confusion it’s more Confucius now, so it’s “Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.” This was really my philosophy on my travels before but I lost essence of this by somewhat sneering at the small things, the small journeys and now I’m becoming humble again. In the quietening of my impatient brain I also had to remind myself ,“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” I indeed have now accepted this so am learning from my tortuous sudden change in my life of speeding along maniacally. From my disappointment in not being able to achieve moving from London and its seemingly insurmountable obstacles in creating a new wild life in so much as a life in the wild it’s been more of a practical “The [wo]man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones” (surely learnt that in my garden in Turkiye.) And “If you make a mistake and do not correct it, this is called a mistake” I now do not just ignore my fuckups but go about trying to fix them. When whizzing about you can all too easily ignore your foolishness and stubbornly not really learn from it. And remember “The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor the man perfected without trials.” Yeah, I think we all have the hang of that one my darling old birds et al.
OR, HARD GRAFT WITH HOME REPAIRS BEFORE MY NEXT TRIP.
ALERT: The flat is now finished and all is well for this old bird! I wrote this a couple of weeks back when I was very boohoo baby. I painted anything in my way that didn’t actually move refreshed everything and threw away most of my possessions. in a couple of weeks I should be back to telling you about the latest on actual travel rather than snivelling. As they say it’s all character forming……or just plain bad Karma!
Yes I’ve been AWOL, I’ve managed to fall off grid totally by accident or rather by despair. This is why.
Lack of funds, government applications to save my sorry arse and delayed building works forced my hand to stay here. The shocking fact of my allowance being cut off by the ex last year, on the same birthday as my retirement year so had been bought to earth with a resounding crash by trying to live on the minimum state pension. I was suddenly a pensioner and it was very cold and I was trapped with no studio and hence no way of making my art and thus money. My darling ex had encouraged me to spend all my own money while travelling and then quite suddenly completely dump me without explanation. I’m still punch drunk from the shock.
The last months have been tortuous. Clipped wing syndrome, while ironically my windows are ripped out, and my meagre possessions in disarray. scaffolding stealing what little light that is still available to us, and decorating my ever decreasing butt off, I’m silently seething that I, a freedom loving old bird, have been caught in this hellish trap. I feel like I should have seen it coming but how could I while star struck by the old garden and house wreck that was going to be my paradise. I was blind and a fool for not noticing .
FOR MY OLD BIRDS ALL OVER THE WORLD, FINALLY WRITING THE BOOK.
“I want to do it because I want to do it. Women must try to do things as men have tried. When they fail, their failure must be but a challenge to others.” Emily Dickinson
Alert: Here we have the idea of this blog, concept and birth. I’ve left the dates more to remind me that it’s nearly five years old. And now I’m turning it into a book, I need to revisit and expand upon those two hundred and seventy-plus blogs.
Starting the book has made me humble and proud at the same time. It’s also made me realise how sloppy and casual I was depending on my pics and videos to do the real leg work. Well, no more Mrs Sloppy. A book without pictures requires the written word to encompass the vivid wonder of those travelling photos and to be eloquent enough to tell the reader what was seen, smelled, tasted, touched and felt. To put those pictures into words dammit!
2019-04-15 From blog intro all those years ago.
OLD BIRDS NEST PAGE: THE ETHOS OF DOING IT ALONE
Hello, my name is Rebecca Taylor, or Old Bird to you, and I’m here to guide you older birds on braving the big old world out there and doing it alone. Come with me and I’ll nurse you through the highs and lows of being an Old Bird travelling solo. This is more of a raucous journal with some culture and tips thrown in. Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it. It’s sometimes shouty-sweary, so if you’re a delicate bird you’ll have to excuse me. [Go first to OLD BIRD FLYING SOLO BLOG so we can shake hands then go anywhere in the list that you wish to get started.]
This is the place for an older birdie to visit and, hopefully, gain the confidence to strike out on their own. Yes, we older birds don’t always have to be in a flock, they can do it alone and it’s not as scary as you think. The world is your oyster, as an older woman or man indeed, you should be out there doing all these things and revelling in life.
I will hop around timewise as the writing of the diary becomes insignificant when you’re experiencing so many wonderful things. Some of it is funny and some plainly ludicrous but all a part of an old bird travelling solo! Enjoy! I’ll take you all over the world. In different forms of transport, doing different activities, eating different kinds of food and exploring places you never even thought about before. I will attempt to nurse you through any pitfalls with hints and tips and generally share the whole experience warts and all.
I’ll many times be daft as a brush and screw up so you don’t have to. I’ll get you there with your preparations, nurse your anxieties, laugh at myself and show you stuff you might want to see and do.
Welcome to the fine art of mature solo travelling. For it is an art, it takes the years you might feel you don’t have left, so I humbly offer all my mistakes so you don’t have to make them. I will also crow when I get something right.
“You arethe one that possesses the keys to your being. You carry the passport to your own happiness” – Diane von Furstenberg
OR, CONSTANT CRUSHING BLOWS DESPITE A POSITIVE ATTITUDE. AND PIGGY IN THE MAKING TO START THE YEAR WITH SOME BACON!!
I piss on you 2023!
Alert: Hello, you beauties. As you can see this is very late. A string of misfortunes kicked me in the crutch from when I started this post. Limping miserably into 24 I had a new horrible happening. On New Year’s Day, I was running around doing positive stuff like you do when I swallowed a clove whole in my parasite-purging tea and it acted like a bomb to my system. I became terribly ill a couple of hours later with pains all over my body like gnomes with pickaxes assaulting me. I also flopped weak like a rag doll into bed and then had terrible chills, I was also semi-hallucinating. I would find out later these are indeed symptoms of clove poisoning. For the next four days, my body went into total detox and I coughed like a navvy as well as fluctuating between being hot then freezing cold. My fever finally broke on the fourth night as my soaking bed bore testament. I’m much better now and feel mentally brighter than I have for months. , it would seem that a reckless swig of herbal tea is a cruel master but does have its benefits! There is always a positive side to all adversity.
Well hello, my beautiful old birds. Let’s dance naked around the Fire of the Dead 2023. Let’s exalt in its demise and hope to flush away the demonic entities that manipulated it worldwide. Let’s spit on its war-mongering ashes for it indeed has been a beast.
In 1984, Román Piña Chan fell from a pyramid from the archaeological zone of Becán, an accident that although not managed to remove him from the investigation, the reflection and teaching did limit their ability to move.
Old Bird Travels Solo! 