OR, TRAVELLING WITH MY NEW RAILCARD, BEING ANCIENT HAS SOME COMPENSATIONS. I have been missing as I’ve been working on the farmyard collection that I’m doing for a show while trying to write my book […]
Old Bird Travels Solo!
THE MATURE ART OF TRAVELLING ALONE. MY NEW EMAIL IS: OldBirdTravels@proton.me PLEASE LIKE AND SHARE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST!
UNDERSTANDING OLD BIRD TRAVELS SOLO. BOOK ON MEXICO AND NOW TRANS-SIBERIAN EXPRESS TRIP HALF FINISHED.
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 are the one that possesses the keys to your being. You carry the passport to your own happiness” – Diane von Furstenberg
TATA 23 AND GOOD RIDDANCE.A LATE NEW YEAR MESSAGE
OR, CONSTANT CRUSHING BLOWS DESPITE A POSITIVE ATTITUDE. AND PIGGY IN THE MAKING TO START THE YEAR WITH SOME BACON!!
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.
Picnic Over, Go Home.
OR, LOVE IN THE TIME OF BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS (AND DODGY 70’S KODACHROME) This is dedicated to my sis Lizliz who was the middle one of us three siblings. I wanted to write a […]
TRAVELLING WITH A HANGOVER AND ILL HEALTH. BROKEN BITS AND FLU LIKE STUFF. ALL OVER THE WORLD.
OR, I SWORE I’D NEVER DO IT AGAIN.
Dumb stupid me.
The classic faux pas that a novice would do, not a veteran traveller like me. I thought that I would treat myself to just the one as I was bored on my last day. I’d been to the museum in the morning and planned to finish my blog after. It was then the WiFi started playing up and so did I. Not having a book is another schoolgirl error and I had finished mine a long time back up in the mountains.
Just the one I thought as I glugged down an icy beer in the last of the days sunshine. Then I trotted off to where I was to meet my cousin and as he was late another frothy concoction was quaffed. At the restaurant of course I had to join him for one, two then three over dinner. A nightcap is mandatory by then. I had no water in my room and I slept badly needing a lot of wees in the night. Truly stupid of me knowing I had an early flight. Lack of sleep, too many beers and also rising hysteria about returning to ghastly England.
Apart from getting lost on the way to the airport everything else seemed to go smoothly despite my weariness, headache and nausea until my phone pinged at the gate. Our plane is bust they are getting us a fresh one and here the agony begins. You know when they say just over and hour it’s bollacks, it’s going to be a ghastly amount of pissing about and suffering, not just for me with my hangover, but all the women who’ve just had beauty surgery in İzmir. I say beauty in a very general way as one doubts the stapling of stomachs and filing down of teeth for veneers could ever be for beautification in any way shape or form. The trout pouts and enlarged breasts, hips and bums are macabre to say the least and flying straight after must endanger you. From what I overheard in a nosy way was that they all were already feeling a little poorly before this delay.
BRAVE NEW WORLD. TURKIYE COUNTRYSIDE.
OR, MY BRAVE NEW WORLD, NOT WHAT THE ELITES HAVE IN MIND.
Every day here in Turkiye has been a blessing except for the house hassle. This I will set aside for today. Every day I see a new side of the magnificent countryside in it’s raw brutal strength, mountains of rugged and often dangerous secrets, olive fields with animals roaming beneath their ancient boughs and wild flowers that pop up overnight despite the apparent arid land. Snakes and scorpions are what the locals most fear but I’ve been blessed in not having a sudden venomous surprise under the many rocks I have moved and the dark tunnels that have been exposed by my work. The chickens seem to tidy up the nasty bugs for me and Mother Nature has thus far been benevolent to me.
ARCHAEOLOGISTS, NEW SITES AND HARD CORE IN THE GARDEN IN TURKIYE.
OR, REST DAY TODAY AFTER OVERDOING IT IN MY GARDEN
I woke up last night with a truly terrible cramp in my calf. The muscle was so rigid and the pain so intense I couldn’t even swing it to the floor to push against it. I knew that it would result in muscle burn and that today plans had to be changed. Then when I awoke in the morning I ate almonds for the magnesium and some dried apricots and then had a spell of nausea. I should have known I was imploding after having a terrible deep siesta sleep the previous day that you feel you will never be able to resurface from. Clearly I had a bit of sunstroke A day of rest was in order. A Zen day today my friends, some yoga and meditation after my last few hectic days.
MILETUS RUINS, A LAKE AND BITS FROM MY ROAD TRIP.
OR, HOW MUCH MORE IS UNDER THE GROUND TO BE DISCOVERED IN TURKIYE?
START OF THE ROAD TRIP.
A road trip was in order. I’d had crushing news about another setback on the house front and then the internet went down for two days, not just at my lovely fish restaurant but all over the area. I’d tried going to my pals at the top of the mountain but although my phone worked my laptop didn’t! My frustration and malaise meant that I was openly crying by the evening with all my “family” uneasily clucking around making me feel a bit better but worse at the same time. This wouldn’t do at all. It was time for a change. It was time for a road trip.
That night I hastily packed my small rucksack and told them I was shooting off in the morning for three days. By eight o’clock the next morning I was walking away down the hill the two km to the main road to hail a minibus. I was on the move heading to Selcuk and the information I needed to take the connections to hit Miletus and maybe even on to the lake and the ancient Herakleia. I would see, I already had my travel head on.
The walk was very pleasant and soothed my injured soul and the minibus wait was painless at that time in the morning. My old neighbour was already at the stop on the opposite side of the road going off to Tire and I pondered if she’d walked down from the village making it a fair old trot for an old, if not ancient old bird. Her minibus shouted over to me that mine would arrive in five minutes. That’s how caring the system is here, I love their system in Turkiye.
GARDEN MUSINGS AND PARADISE LOST.
OR A BIT OF ZEN KUNDALINI MUSIC AND A DOG, GO A LONG WAY TO HAPPINESS AND TRANQUILITY.
Since writing this, sadly it appears the sale will not go through after a long weary time of yes, no situation as laws and catastrophes have occurred and misunderstandings and recriminations. I will however never forget my magical time in my garden. I am heartbroken and desolate so am going on a road trip to try to calm myself. I’m still trying to fix this as eternally an optimist! I’ll keep you posted x I’ll also be adding photos and final hammock film
THE ZEYBEKS.MUSEUMS AND HISTORY.
OR, HOW I FOUND MY MATE ELIF FROM KENT MUSEUM BUSILY STARTING THE ZEYBEK MUSEUM UP THE ROAD!
NEVER TIRED OF TIRE!
This beautiful old house has a collection of historical artefacts running through from approximately the 16th century up to the era of Attaturk. Its proud history has been well-curated and was an eye-opener to me! Strong and wily people the Zeybeks are worth a good look at and you can clearly see the resistance of the ancestors in those who live here now. I must add that I also said to Elif, that a lot of the showcases and items had the aura and feel of the Mexican bandits of old. She agreed. The anecdote about the purple bolero in the womans showcase was also hers.
Apparently, if a woman was beaten by her husband she would don that purple bolero as a sign for the rest of the village to shame him and also give him a beating. Sounds a very good plan!
Old Bird Travels Solo! 