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For what seems like forever, my dad and stepmom have been sailing off the coast of Maine for a week each summer. This year, their 10th trip, they finally brought us along. Dad, Annie (stepmom), Alex (husband), Casey (sister), Melanie (friend), and I all packed our duffles and boarded the Schooner Heritage in Rockland at the end of July. We sailed for six days with 24 other passengers, five crew members, and two captains. We hauled lines, chopped vegetables, hosed the anchor, furled sails, listened to stories, watched for porpoises and seals, made new friends, climbed aloft almost to the top of the mast, drank lots of coffee, and tied many knots (among so many things!).

It’s hard to convey the beauty of a schooner in words, but, I assure you, the Heritage is a stunning vessel. The following photographs hardly do the experience justice.

These last two photos are from the last morning of the trip when I climbed aloft. My sister snapped these and I’m glad she did – being atop the mast, 70ish feet in the air was an absolutely amazing experience. I’d have stayed up there all day if I could’ve.

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More of my photos here. The Heritage has a detailed website with everything you could wish to know about the vessel and her captains.

Today marks the end of the school year for my nursery school class. It is with tears in my eyes that I say goodbye to these little ones that have so shaped my head, my heart, and the path of my life. The following photographs are all my own work from the past two years.

This post is for the children – they are beautiful, funny, challenging, fascinating, and absolutely brilliant.

I’m not sure I know any more appropriate way to end this post other than the goodbye song we sing at the end of each day:

Goodbye, see you later

Later, Alligator

In awhile, Crocodile

Goodbye for now!

Here we go! Below are the photographic highlights of our incredible trip to Greece and Turkey. Those in attendance: Me, Alex, Alex’s parents, his brother Matt, and Matt’s wife Leah. Here’s a brief itinerary so you can see just how we covered so much in a week:

Tuesday Morning to Friday Morning: Athens (including a Thursday afternoon trip to the shore to see the Temple of Poseidon)

Friday Morning: Board Cruise Ship

Friday Afternoon: Mykonos

Saturday Morning: Kuşadası, Turkey (Excursion to the Ancient City of Ephesus)

Saturday Afternoon: Patmos

Sunday Morning: Heraklion, Crete

Sunday Afternoon: Santorini

Monday Morning: Flight home to New York

We ate well, admired beautiful sights, did a lot of walking, and ate more. We met a Greek friend of a friend in Brooklyn the weekend before our departure and he gave us suggestions of great places to eat and must-try dishes (obviously a man after our hearts, traveling for us is all about the food). His suggestions were perfect for us, and we ended up eating our way through Greece. I’d like to pretend that all the walking and sightseeing balanced out the caloric intake,  but I feel a little pudgy now. We did have souvlaki twice in one day and didn’t hold back on any of the other meals, why would we? I’m off to the gym as soon as this is posted.

Feast your eyes, readers!

Clockwise from top left: ruins of the Theater Dionysos, ruins of the Acropolis, ruins of the Temple of Poseidon, ditto, and ruins of a carafe of wine at Το Καφενείο an absolutely amazing place for mezedes (Greek tapas).

Images from the open market in Athens. This place is huge and stinky and loud, but totally awesome to walk through for 10 minutes.

The street animals in Greece are lovely: totally not bothersome and surprisingly healthy-looking. The cat and dog on the left are in Athens. The little guy on the right was in Heraklion, Crete. He was very yawn-y (which was very cute) so we named him Yanni. Turns out he really liked us and almost followed us back to the ship. We may have ended up bringing him home if pets were allowed on the boat.

Oh my lordy, the lamb souvlaki in a pita with perfect tomatoes and creamy tzatziki. I rest my case, your honor.

On the left, Mykonos. On the right, Patmos. Both totally stunning and laid-back. Our trip fell during tourist pre-season, so nothing was busy, everything was quiet, and the weather was still wonderful. Temperatures were in the mid-60′s every day, perfect for doing a lot of walking without getting boiled alive.

The Ancient City of Ephesus in Kuşadası, Turkey. Our tour guide, George, was hilarious and knowledgeable, but my capacity for absorbing history was maxed out in the first 20 minutes of this tour (I had already absorbed a lot in Athens). The city was built by a general of Alexander the Great, and Sting played at the gigantic theater on site (a lot more recently than when it was built, obviously). Yup, that’s all I got. That and if we missed our bus back, we would be paying $85 for a cab back to the ship.

After our tour of Ephesus, George led us through the city to a Handmade Turkish Rug Co-operative. All of my don’t-be-a-sucker-tourist alarm bells were going off when we were herded into a tiny room and given wine (at 10am) and a fast-paced and super-polished lesson on Turkish rugs (the kind of smoothness where the Turkish man who lived in San Antonio for 12 years and spoke almost accent-less English asked if he was saying the word “cotton” right… mm-hmm, ok. But I did love the way he said it, it was more like “cutton” but better). Also, the whole thing was perfectly choreographed. Dudes were rolling out rugs and spinning them with the utmost style. The woman pictured above was making a small silk-on-silk rug that will have over 600 knots per square inch, and will take her a year to finish.  Fortunately, we got out alive and with our valuables. Though, Alex’s parents have a new rug to find a spot for in their home! And if I decide to go for a Turkish rug someday, I know just where to go.

Yes, folks, this treat was as good as it looks. The morning we were in Heraklion, Crete, Alex and I chose not to go on the historical tour of the Palace of Knossos. As I said, I was all historied out. Instead we wound our way through the city streets to Liontaria Square and ate one of the highly-recommended dishes from our Greek-friend-of-a-friend. BOUGATSA. Thin layers of phyllo stuffed with cheesy custard (like a thicker, more savory ricotta), sprinkled with cinnamon, and drizzled in honey. We split one and then ordered another, and right now I wish I could recommend to past-Me to order a third. The little restaurant, Kipkop has been in business for 1922, and the sidewalk tables were filled with late-middle-aged Greek men, that is until the bells rang for church, anyway.

Aaaaah, Santorini. Once arriving in port on the tender boats, we got to choose between riding up the 1000-foot cliff on donkeys or in a cable car. Because there were six of us, we chose the cable car, but next time Alex and I will take the donkeys. The lighting was so dramatic that afternoon- bright warm sunlight and ominously dark clouds (that never amounted to anything except for a stunning backdrop for photos).

More Santorini, because four pictures don’t do it justice. Eight doesn’t cut it, either, but I have to try. Alex deemed it “indescribable,” and I have to agree. You really have to see it for yourself.

There it is, ladies and gentlemen. A 39-image recap of our trip to Greece (and Turkey). If that doesn’t quite satisfy you, there will soon be 175 images on my Flickr account for your perusal. More food, more sights, more street animals.

You can bet, now that we’re stateside, we’re going to scout out the best souvlaki places in the five boroughs. And if we can find bougatsa, that too.

I went to Paris. I took over  a thousand pictures, distilled them down to 142 (see all of those here), and then further still – I selected the following fifteen to represent the trip as a whole here, on Reasonably So. I’ve eliminated some of the more touristy shots so you can really get to the meat of the experience. Notes along the way and at the end.

Raspberry Rose Ice Cream from Berthillon.

A gorgeous night view from the apartment of a lovely woman who gave us a French cooking lesson.

A man painting in the Louvre.

Une bicyclette verte.

Notre Dame.

This man is making me a delicious savory crepe. Une gallette au jambon, oeuf, fromage, et champignons. In the Latin Quarter.

A rotund pig at the Queen’s Hamlet in Versailles.

A view of one of the used book stands along the Seine.

France, our cooking teacher, making us Kir.

Opulence and extravagance are some of the main themes in Paris. This is from the Opera.

My gorgeous sister, Casey, in front of Sacre Coeur.

Our meat for Thanksgiving dinner.

My beautiful mother bartering (flirting?) with the silhouette artists in Montmarte.

One needs a Café Creme before venturing through the Louvre.

And here’s me at Versailles. And those are Momma’s fingers making bunny ears. Smartass.

My suggestion, go to Paris. Eat the baguettes. They will taste delicious. Have them with jam and camembert (though the camembert will stink up your rental flat). Have some Chocolat Chaud. Eat a macaron or twelve. If you go in late November, pack warm clothes and several scarves (so the pictures of you will have some variety – a helpful tip that I received before leaving). Be polite and you will be treated with respect. If you have a brother who’s fluent in French, have him tag along and make sure he knows how much you appreciate his guidance and help. Bon voyage!!!!!!

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