Looking through my huge archive of photos today in the reference library, I saw that I had neglected connecting all the animals I had rubbed shoulders with on my travels around the world. I feel I need to correct this seeing as animals are my favourite things.
ELEPHANT SANCTUARY THAILAND, CHIANG MAI.
Jokey baby elephant and guides
Let’s face it animals are part of every aspect of our lives The good, bad and ugly. They feature in religions past and present, they live with us, they entertain and fascinate us, and we eat them. I don’t want to get embroiled here on how much modern humans abuse them rather than revere them, that’s for another time. I just want to casually look over some of my encounters to remind us why we yearn to be on the move and experience the mundane and exotic.
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, MY BRAVE NEW WORLD, NOT WHAT THE ELITES HAVE IN MIND.
View from my friend and neighbours house at sunset
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.
The pure mountain water beside the mosque where I go each day to wash some of the dirt from my face and arms and have a long, cool drink
Surprise in the ivy I was clearing. A hawk moth larva.
My morning dog piss
The capturing of my beautiful garden one last time.
OR, REST DAY TODAY AFTER OVERDOING IT IN MY GARDEN
Hammock number two
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.
OR, HOW I FOUND MY MATE ELIF FROM KENT MUSEUM BUSILY STARTING THE ZEYBEK MUSEUM UP THE ROAD!
New museum in Tire.
NEVER TIRED OF TIRE!
Me and Elif outside the museum.
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!
The purple bolero that signed a man was a wife beater.
Alert: My artwork can now be found on this link, click on photo:
My limestone Eve and her snake.
I was in a weird mood. My back was better due to sleeping in a proper bed, but I was having trouble sleeping through the night. I’d bought a Melissa tea but hadn’t noticed it had St. Johns Wort in it, which doesn’t agree with me at all, instead of calming me it makes me edgy. I was eating very little and drinking and smoking a lot and the very idea of getting on another minibus to a beach I had discovered on the map just filled me with dread.
OR, ARTY TURKIYE HERE I COME. Alert: Another unplanned absence folks but been busy getting ready! The Things Old Birds Can Do To Earn a Crust Abroad. Although there can be a lot of casual […]
OR, WHEN IT WARMS UP YOU FEEL THE SUMMER HEAT IN AEGEAN TURKEY IN THE MOUNTAINS.
It might be warm at the coast but it’s very fresh up here.
An abandoned house and garden in a largely abandoned village.
Walking up the mountain alone most days it was lovely for my friend Ege and his brother to come to visit. They were so enthusiastic and made me feel like I was seeing it all afresh. Instead of moaning about the effing Rottweiler, the bane of my life on the walking shortcut, I take most days, I could enjoy going up to the mosque and spring water fountain by car. Beyond there we walked and what a beautiful landscape unfolded before us.
OR SUNSTROKE HITS HARD AFTER OVER-ENJOYING BEING A MERMAID.
Up close and part of a magic kingdom
You had to be an old mad bird to end up with sunstroke from being too in love with a turtle.
Porcupine fish
I’m a dummy. That beautiful girl, my turtle, took me for such a ride that I hadn’t wet my head once in the half hour I was with her and returning to the boat. This was in the searing midday sun in Indonesia central! I would be more penitent later as the full horror of proper sunstroke waved over me. I should have known better I’d had it before, but this time it was horrendous. I was pretty much bed bound for the next couple of days before I left this island paradise.
Old Bird Travels Solo! 