Gonzogirl

A diary of curious living

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Bead by Bead

Maggie’s beads. So where did they land on this unforgettable experience?   Dotting the landscape from Dublin to Budapest, they mark our journey in their own special way.  The first was placed at the base of the statue of Oscar Wilde in Merrion Square Park, Dublin. Look at his expression!  Did he know what we were up to? Oscar Wilde Staue at Merrion Square Park We should have placed a…

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Beneath the Veneer

I remember our first day in Thailand vividly. I was overcome with regret that I had signed us up for two years in a place that on first glance,  was so dirty and delapotated. But miraculously, as each day passed, I was able to see the beauty that was hidden just behind the piles of rubbish. So it is with Slovakia.  My first day here was a real disappointment. Abandoned buildings falling apart.…

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Crossing the Line

When the road surface changed abruptly from smooth pavement to rough, chip seal, I  wasn’t completely surprised to see the sign, “Slovenska”.  We had entered Slovakia. In the distance we could just make out the outskirts of Bratislava, the capital city. Tall communist block style apartments amid pragmatically designed buildings. Structures with purpose.  Rolling into the city I was reminded…

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Call the Ambulance!

Many years ago my good friend, Jeri, and I traveled to Italy on an unforgettable adventure. With Rick Steves’, “Europe Through the Back Door”, as our bible, we used a eurail train pass to get from town to town, covering way too much ground in just a few weeks. We saw countless cathedrals, palaces and Roman ruins. It was exciting and overwhelming. At one point, we were walking over the Bridge of…

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Perfect

Am I an angsty drama queen? Was Sean right when he asked if I looked for trouble just to create an interesting blog? Maybe.  Because the last few days have been practically perfect. This doesn’t happen often when bike packing. So, what could I possibly write about that was interesting?  Could I write about the nice breakfast buffet at the lovely river front hotel in an incredibly scenic…

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Our Lady of the Train Station

The train system in Europe is amazing, but for the uninitiated it can be a bit overwhelming at first.  Now what? So when the Old Lady with a shopping bag approached us at the S Bahn ticket kiosk in the Munich airport, we were grateful for her assistance.  “Vere are you going?” she asked, outing us as Americans by beginning the conversation in English.  “We are trying to get to the central…

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Maggie’s Beads

As I pulled the beautiful blue glass bead from my back pack, I knew I had a perfect place to put it.  We were in Porto, Portugal on the main boardwalk along the river. A blue dingy was on the dock, waiting. The bead needed to be on this boat. It was so apropo because the creator of the hand blown bead loves water and her husband is a guy who builds boats.  Porto, Portugal After not quite hiding…

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Snow Day

Getting sick is a little like a snow day.  I have vivid memories of waking up as a kid, the radio going and my mom walking into my room saying, “School is cancelled. Snow day.” Then she’d slog back to the kitchen, prepping for the obligatory hot cocoa and endless, wet and muddy laundry.  I think she was a little sad, but not me!  I’d jump up and look out the window. Sure enough, we had a full ¼…

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Rick & I are getting ready to head out for our next Cycling Adventure. This time, our cousin Sean will join us for the whole trip as we make our way from Ireland to Germany and then follow Eurovelo 6 to Budapest. So simple. What could possibly happen?

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My Shamans

Bart. That was the name of my first Shaman. It was the early 2000’s. My family had decided to spend the Christmas holiday in the small seaside village of Puerto Morelos, Mexico.  Sitting on the beach, terribly hungover from a night of Margaritas followed by cartwheels down the street, I struck up a conversation with a nice couple from California. They had two toddler age kids and looked to be…

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Another Inconvenient Truth

The package arrived without fanfare. No white van pulling into my driveway. No text with a photo assuring that said package arrived. Instead, I opened up the mailbox and found a plain brown box. What did I order? I had to search my brain a bit, which isn’t so unusual these days. Right!  The special face cream I like with magic ingredients that stave off wrinkles and such. I had ordered it a week…

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One Tiny Sock

I woke up with a surge of sadness. Three days of chaotic joy. Running Singing Rapture at the moon. Puddles Dirt Wonder in the mundane. Tears Laugther Each moment a gift. Carefully wrapped in a precious memory.

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Holy Puck! She's Amazing.

I really like badass women. Take the character, Mattie Ross from the movie True Grit.  A young woman hires a washed up US Marshall to exact revenge on her murdered dad.  But she takes this plan to the badass level by insisting on joining him on a journey which ends with a rattlesnake bite, an amputation and justice served. Or real-life badass women.  Ruth Bader Ginsberg, the Supreme Court…

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It's been a while since I've had a first day on the job and it looks like I won't be bored. Who knew that a radio station would deliver more than music.

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The Edge of the Bell Curve

I get pretty tired of seeing shiny, happy depictions of life through the media.  All the interesting grit of experience smoothed away to present a “perfect” view of a “perfect” life.  The curated version of whatever, made to make you feel just a little uncomfortable and possibly unhappy with your own life circumstance.  Just enough to lure you into buying whatever it is that is for sale.   And…

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Nothing

Opening up this document to begin writing, I intentionally wanted to start with a blank page. It can feel a little overwhelming.  Seeing nothing. Which is a little strange. How can nothing be overwhelming? Is it the idea of so many possibilities? Is it the absence of an external structure? Is it the notion that in the end, what I do is entirely up to me? Does it go straight to the core of simply…

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Just a Grandma

“Look! bubbles! Can you say bubbles?” Our little granddaughter, just 16 months, laughs and runs over to pop a bubble. Then, smiles and yells, “bubba!”  Rick and I break out in a round of applause, smiles and words of encouragement. “Good job! That’s right! You did it!” What a feat. What a grand moment.  It used to be that my grand moments were much more grand. Scuba diving in Indonesia. Skiing…

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