Alexandersmap

    Category: Travel

    • The One and Only Cribstone Bridge

      On the rocky coast of Maine there’s a bridge like no other in the world. Its formal name is The Bailey Island Bridge, but its more descriptive name is the Cribstone Bridge. What makes it unique is its beautifully complex simplicity. It’s basically stacks of cut granite, piled just so one atop the other to form the foundation for a concrete bridge. The magic is in its strength and open design that permits water to flow freely through it. This stack of granite extends 350 meters across an active tidal waterway in Casco Bay, Maine, and has withstood surf, ice flows, boat wakes and a steady flow of vehicular traffic since it was completed in 1928, with only one major repair between 2009-2010.

      There’s truth in the expression “they don’t build them like that any more”. Time tells, and the bridge has proven itself built to last. Anyone who’s played Jenga can appreciate the complexity of a bridge like this. Stacks of granite slabs bear the load, while shrugging off the ocean tides, nor’easters and the harsh cold of a Maine winter. As a critic of mediocre civil engineering projects, I take a bow to this gem of a bridge, showing generations of Civil Engineers what’s possible with a bit of creative genius. It seems I’m not alone in my appreciation, as the bridge is recognized as a National Historic Civil Engineering Landmark, and also on the National Register of Historic Places.

      I wasn’t seeking out this bridge, but I encountered it on a drive out to Land’s End, quite literally a point of land at the end of the road on Bailey Island. I suppose that makes me an accidental tourist of sorts, but these are the kind of encounters that inspired me to start blogging in the first place. Will the Bailey Island Bridge inspire a return to more deliberate regional exploration in this blog? Time tells.

    • Reading and Writing and All the Other Things

      “I write because I want more than one life; I insist on a wider selection. It’s greed, plain and simple. When my characters join the circus, I’m joining the circus. Although I’m happily married, I spent a great deal of time mentally living with incompatible husbands.” — Anne Tyler

      “I read so I can live more than one life in more than one place.” — Anne Tyler

      We read fiction to escape: to be someone else in another place, if only for a little while. We write fiction to explore: to create something bolder within ourselves that we might not otherwise explore, and drop these characters into the places we might not dare to go in a normal lifetime. To take a walk on the wild side without too much damage. Each of us seeks something more in this world in some way. Fiction offers safe passage to extraordinary places.

      This blog doesn’t dabble in fiction, although this writer has. There’s a distinct separation there, between fiction and non-fiction, and between creative output and daily observation. My name isn’t even Alexander, which may lend to the confusion. Certainly it doesn’t offer optimization of the brand. But so it goes. The motive isn’t to develop a brand, but a deeper understanding of the world and my place in it.

      Sometimes we want to explore other lives, represented in fictional characters who come to life in the pages of a book. Sometimes we want to explore the meaning in our own life, and optimize our potential in this brief go-around. If I’m sure of anything in this daily ritual, it’s that I’m a better writer and a better human for having consistently done it. Writers develop characters, and we also develop our own character. Those richer and bolder lives aren’t just on paper, after all, they’re within us too.

      This business of reading and writing is a lovely part of who we are, but let’s face it: Most of our life is made up of all the other things. When done well, we develop a deeper perspective and sense of place through our active participation in words, but also through our engagement with the world. We must step outside our comfort zone in small ways that lead to bigger and bolder things. Just as a snowball grows as we nudge it along, so we grow as we accumulate skill and confidence through repetitive action. As with the snowball, at some point it grows beyond our capacity to push it, and it is then that we must seek the help of others. We must develop the awareness and courage to ask for help when we find our pushing isn’t quite enough.

      When you stop to think of it, we’re each the authors of our own lives. Those characters we develop are often us. Just as they stretch and grow, so too do we. All the other things that make up a life are derived from our imagination and the courage to step out into the unknown. It shouldn’t just be fiction.

    • Which One Stirs?

      “I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.” — Hermann Hesse, Demian

      We all listen to whispers—hints and suggestions and guidance from deep within. We usually don’t act on most of these. Perhaps some seem reckless, or frivolous. Perhaps we don’t like the stretch out of a comfort zone. But now and then we do stretch, and sometimes even leap. The whisper is all we hear at times like this.

      The question isn’t what whispers to us, for there will always be whispers, the question is, which one stirs? We ought to do more of that. Naturally, we already know this. Do you wonder why we ever hear anything else? Or why we choose not to listen to our very own whisper more often?

    • The “I’m Glad I Did” Lens

      “Go live your life. Live it fully, without fear. Live with purpose, give it your all, and never give up.” Effort is important, for without it you will never succeed at your highest level. Achievement is important, for without it you will never experience your true potential. Pursuing purpose is important, for unless you do, you may never find lasting happiness. Step out on faith that these things are true. Go live a life worth living where, in the end, you’ll be able to say, “I’m glad I did,” not “I wish I had.” — Gary Keller, The One Thing

      Without being reckless, what would you have done differently yesterday? How about this year? Who would you spend time with? Where would you linger a beat longer? Where would you have gone if not for the place you stayed instead? What work would you have applied yourself to, worthy of your precious time? In other words, what do you regret leaving off the table in this brief life?

      Perhaps, choose to do it today. Perhaps reach out to that person. Perhaps, linger in the moment when it arrives instead of rushing off to the next urgent thing. Perhaps, book the trip today, while there’s still precious time. Live through the lens of “I’m glad I did” and defer “I wish I had” instead. Be focused. Be intentional. Be bold.

      There is the idea of deathbed regrets. We are all on our deathbed, whether today or a hundred years from now. We ought to feel the urgency in that realization and do something with our time. Through what lens do we view the world? Choose the “I’m glad I did” lens. We probably won’t regret it.

    • The Whisper of the Window Seat

      The more I travel, the more I believe there are two types of people in this world: those who would block out all the noise and retreat into themselves, and those who are actively engaged with everything and everyone around them. This might be best observed on a plane, where the window seat becomes a portal to the universe for those actively looking out the window, or alternatively, closed the entire flight that the traveller may forget that they’re propelling tens of thousands of feet above the earth in an aluminum tube. Take those two travelers and bring them into a room or a garden and I’d bet most would behave similarly.

      I’d like to believe that I’m actively engaged in the world, but still own noise cancelling headphones and resent the person in front of me for reclining their seat. I celebrate the input I seek from the world, yet resent encroachment from that which I don’t. Does that make me complex, or practically engaged? I’m a work in progress either way; with stoicism as a lens for which to see the world.

      Given the choice, would you choose an aisle seat over a window seat? Would you take one for the team and sit in the middle seat? These are choices that say a lot about us. The aisle offers flexibility—you can stand up any old time you want to so long as that fasten seatbelt sign isn’t illuminated. Yet you’re constantly encroached upon by (seemingly) every person bumping into you as they pass by. There’s joy but also despair in the aisle seat, presented to you in a jolt just as you doze off.

      That middle seat must be suffered. You know exactly what you’re in for, and usually, that vision is realized. There’s something very stoic about traveling in the middle seat. Amor fati—love of fate. We accept the universe as it comes to us. All we can do is cross our arms and take the air miles. If you’re lucky, the person in the window seat is a kindred spirit and has the shutter open for you to catch a partial view of what might have been.

      The more I travel, the more I want the window seat. Sure, you’ve got to manage your bladder trips wisely, but otherwise you’re in a place of least possible encroachment under the circumstances with the most opportunity for wonder just an open shutter away. We’ve all got such a short trip in the big scheme of things, why not be open to experience as much as possible? Everything but that reclining seat, anyway.

    • A Visit to Brimstone Hill Fortress, St. Kitts

      On a steep and imposing chunk of rock with the mountains at her back, Brimstone Hill Fortress continues to watch over the Caribbean long after the strategic reasons for having a fort here at all have faded into history. Today St. Kitts and Nevis, and the other island nations nearby, are destinations for fun in the tropics, but three centuries ago these islands were strategically valuable producers of tobacco, cotton and especially sugar and its byproducts, molasses and rum. The conflicts between England and France were played out in the North American colonies and in small islands like St. Kitts. While most soldiers considered being stationed in the tropics a death sentence due to the high mortality rate (from disease, alcoholism, etc), it was nothing compared to that suffered by the original inhabitants and the slaves that built the fortress. Each were decimated as the history of this place evolved. Visiting the castle after playing tourist for a few days, the contrast between the joyful destination of today and its dark history was sobering.

      They say that history is written by the victors. This is largely true, but with enough time and clues, you find enough evidence to piece together a more complete story. The English and French united to massacre thousands of Caribs (kalinagos) in 1626 at a place aptly called bloody point, not far from Brimstone Hill. Once they’d eliminated the native population, the English and French divided St. Kitts between them, with the English taking the middle of the island and the French the rest. This tenuous peace between colonists would last until 1713 (the end of Queen Anne’s War).

      Brimstone Hill Fortress was built by slaves between 1690 and the 1790’s. The slaves were brought from Africa in a continuous loop that began the slave trade of tobacco, cotton and sugar for captured and enslaved people. This highly lucrative trade created generations of wealth and tragedy. The fortress is an early example of the polygonal system, which created fields of fire to ensure that all sides were covered from assault. The sheer height of the fort ensured it would be very difficult to attack from the ground, while offering the prominence of the high ground to fire canon balls up to a mile away. This was state-of-the-art technology for the time. The volcanic stone was mined and cut into a formidable fortress, using lime quarried from lower in the mountain.

      During the American Revolutionary War, the French (allied with the American colonists) invaded St. Kitts and laid siege on the fortress from January and February of 1782. A siege is the kryptonite of a fortress, as the inhabitants face a dwindling supply of water, food and ammunition while the attackers wait them out. Eventually even the strongest fortresses capitulate, and the English surrendered and marched out with full honors. A year later the English were back again when the Treaty of Paris restored the islands to them.

      Today the Brimstone Hill Fortress is a Unesco historic site and remarkably well preserved. Many of the original canon line the fort, awaiting an assault that will never come. Today’s assault is from tourists seeking out the spectacular views from the fortress, stirred with a sobering history lesson. It’s absolutely worth the trip up the narrow, winding road on a clear day. A walk out to the outer walls confirms exactly why they built the fortress here—you can see forever in all directions. Including the past.

    • Tropical Rewind

      Hey, stop talking, think I can hear the sea.
      And did I tell you the sound of the surf
      Makes strange things happen to me.
      — Del Amitri, Here and Now

      There’s nothing better than an off-season beach, save perhaps an off-season beach in the tropics. Celebrating a quiet beach is best accomplished in the early morning light, when magic happens in the universe, but only witnessed by those who make the pilgrimage. The advantage of a tropical beach is in the warm breezes and even warmer ocean water. An off-season beach in northern climates has all of the beauty, but is served with a frigid sting. Such things matter when you linger in a place by the sea.

      Walking the beach in St. Kitts well before the dancers of the night before ever thought to awaken, I had no souls to keep me company but the sea birds, a stray dog and an inquisitive cat. Warm tropical breezes offered a different experience than the norm for me. It’s an experience you can certainly get used to very quickly. This explains why so many move to the tropics. But we all know that everything loses its magic if you get too used to it. At least that’s what I told myself as I walked back from the beach to face reality once again.

      [Postscript: This post was written but never made it out of international waters. The streak of writing is alive, the streak of posting is subject to interpretation.]

    • A Visit to the Montpelier Plantation & Beach, Nevis

      “Montpelier history dates back to 1687 when Sir Hans Sloane, Secretary of the Royal Society of England and a doctor, visited Nevis and discovered this location. A hundred years later, history gave this small Caribbean island prominence far beyond its size. Although many epic battles were orchestrated from Montpelier, this estate became famous for love. Montpelier Plantation witnessed the marriage of Horatio Nelson, famous for his service in the Royal Navy, to Frances “Fanny” Nisbet, niece of the president of Nevis, John Herbert.” — Montpelier Plantation & Beach

      The Montpelier Plantation & Beach has seen a few things in its time. This is a place full of magic, full of stories dating back to the earliest days of British colonialism. A place of enormous wealth generation through subjugation and slavery. A place where countless souls passed through, some forever famous, most forever anonymous. This sugar plantation in the hills of Nevis doesn’t just whisper history, it reverberates history, and at times wrote it.

      There is a weeping fig tree greeting you as you enter the grounds that appears to be as old as the plantation. I’m told it was planted in 1966, apparently a very good year for vibrant growth. The tree has thrived, and is one of the most iconic things you’ll encounter here. But not the only thing. Just a few steps away are the ruins of the old sugar mill, prominently declaring the darker history of the plantation, even as it offers a beautiful backdrop for photographs and private meals within.

      Walking around the quiet, meticulously landscaped grounds, you quickly realize why so many famous people have flocked here, most famously Princess Diana after her divorce from Charles. This is a place to escape from the world and all its madness. When you’re here you separate yourself from timelines altogether, and immerse yourself in something beyond the immediacy of your own life. It’s a place to reset and revise your story.

      It should be mentioned that the food is extraordinary here, exceeding expectations for fine dining. It’s accompanied by excellent service from a friendly staff who know just how to make a moment special. You feel a sense of place here, and become a part of it with your visit. The Montpelier Plantation can be thought of as a time machine, or maybe it should be thought of as a timeless wonder.

    • Thoughts From An Early Morning Starbucks Line

      Standing in line at a grocery store or a restaurant, or waiting for the time to eat, we don’t need to waste our time. We don’t need to “wait” for one second. Instead, we can enjoy breathing in and out for our nourishment and healing. We can use that time to notice that we will soon be able to have food, and we can be happy and grateful during that time. Instead of waiting, we can generate joy.” — Thich Nhat Hanh

      We’re all working to process something in our lives—big and small things alike. This morning I was processing the benefits and drawbacks to skipping sleep for an early morning flight. It’s not my first rodeo when it comes to such things, and nothing that happens today will shake my belief that starting your day before the world wakes up offers a necessary head start.

      I contemplated this in the Starbucks line, chock full of groggy caffeine junkies looking for enlightenment, or maybe just a lifeline to the day. I didn’t need a lifeline, merely validation of a long-held habit of coffee equalling go. Standing in line, I recalled the gist of Thich Nhat Hanh’s quote, if not verbatim, and settled into a quiet celebration of life. The coffee surely stimulated the conversation between the ears later, but why wait? Life is now, caffeinated or not.

      Some minor travel-related inconveniences like a slow moving line are no reason to grumble. It wasn’t long ago when we missed the close proximity of a crowd. Traveling again is a reason for joy, and so too is reviewing an early start to the day while awaiting the miracle of coffee.

    • The Promise of Now

      “He was weary of himself, of cold ideas and brain dreams. Life a poem? Not when you went about forever poetizing about your own life instead of living it. How innocuous it all was, and empty, empty, empty! This chasing after yourself, craftily observing your own tracks—in a circle, of course. This sham diving into the stream of life while all the time you sat angling after yourself, fishing yourself up in one curious disguise or another! If he could only be overwhelmed by something—life, love, passion—so that he could no longer shape it into poems, but had to let it shape him!” ― Jens Peter Jacobsen, Niels Lyhne

      Often in the urgency of becoming, we forget to savor moments. It’s an odd thing to say, being an unabashed savorer of moments, to admit that I lose the feel of now sometimes in my quest for a then I may never reach. But now is ours to live, everything else is chasing promises.

      A person in my close circle heard that their cancer is terminal, which means that they’re facing their mortality more profoundly than they had every imagined before. The truth of the matter is they were dying all along—we all are—but he wasn’t focused on the expiration date. When someone hears they’re going to die they immediately wonder exactly when. This is a fair question, to be sure, but perhaps the better question, for all of us, is what will we do with the vibrant and healthy days left for us? Not the bedridden, atrophied and out of time days, but our very best days of those we have left?

      In a way, a diagnosis is a gift, forcing the person hearing it to focus on the urgency of living now. This awareness magnifies what is essential. When all the noise is finally filtered away, what calls to us?

      Go out and live, friends, for our time is so very brief. Dive deeply into the stream of life. Savor the moments and create memories that will make you smile at the sheer audacity of living in the now. Feel this moment, and the next. Be overwhelmed by life, love and passion, for these are the spices of today. Realize the promise of now while it’s here.