Storm leaving Phoenix creates dramatic sunset

Posted By Mike Padgett

Oct. 10, 2014

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Copyright © iPhone photo by Mike Padgett

Pictured above is the departure of the storm that rattled metropolitan Phoenix in late September. I captured the iPhone image from an upper floor of the parking garage at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport’s Terminal Four.

At the horizon in the center is a rain shaft. A bank of low-hanging clouds obscures the mountains to the left. At the far right is part of the downtown Phoenix skyline.

Our flight that day into Phoenix from Seattle was diverted to Tucson, where we waited a couple hours for the powerful weather system to move out of metro Phoenix. Our plane was on final approach into Phoenix when the pilot was ordered to fly on to Tucson.

We learned later that our flight was one of several diverted that day from Phoenix. When we landed in Tucson, paramedics boarded to treat an elderly man complaining of chest pains.

After the storm passed, we returned to Phoenix and landed about seven hours after leaving Seattle. The Phoenix-Seattle flight usually lasts less than three hours.

 

 

Oct 10th, 2014

Arizona mesquites glisten with early morning rain

Posted By Mike Padgett

Oct. 9, 2014

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Photo copyright © by Mike Padgett

A walk in the Arizona desert after a gentle morning rain is a special treat. The air is clean and fresh, filled with the aroma of creosote bushes and other plants. Rabbits, quail and other wildlife begin emerging from cover offered by trees and brush. Overhead, the grey sky begins changing. By noon, it will be a collection of fluffy clouds scattered across a blue canvas.

 

The drops of rain glistening on the tiny leaves of a mesquite tree fit this quote from author John Updike: “Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.”

 

 

Oct 9th, 2014

Desert sentinels greet sunrise today in central Arizona

Posted By Mike Padgett

Oct. 7, 2014

 

Sunrise

Photo copyright © Mike Padgett

“This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.”

John Muir (1838-1914), conservationist, co-founder of the Sierra Club, and considered the father of our National Park System, according to the John Muir Association.

 

Oct 7th, 2014

‘Flying Jewel’ darts into photograph, then vanishes

Posted By Mike Padgett

April 25, 2014

 

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Hummingbirds collect nectar from about 1,000 flowers each day, according to a list of facts found on www.worldofhummingbirds.com. (Photo copyright © by Mike Padgett)

SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. – The saying, “Blink and you might miss it,” applies whenever hummingbirds are around. I was focusing on the cactus flowers near our front door, preparing to click the shutter, when this hummingbird flew into the photo scene. A few clicks of my camera and the tiny hummer was gone as suddenly as it appeared.

The result is a serendipitous photo of a delicate bird visiting brilliant flowers sprouting from a spiny cactus. Red is said to be a favorite color of these flying jewels. 

 

 

 

(Copyright @ Mike Padgett, ArizonaNotebook.com. All applicable U.S. and International copyright laws pertain to any and all photographs and other images and articles on this site. Downloading, hot-linking, copying, reproducing, manipulating in any way and/or distribution by print, electronic media or other means is prohibited by law.)

 

(Please contact Mike Padgett if you are interested in purchasing prints or licensing images on this site, or if you wish to use any of the images on this site for noncommercial purposes. All rights reserved.)

 

(Ideas for interesting news stories about Arizona residents and businesses are welcome. Please send ideas and suggestions to mike@ArizonaNotebook.com.)

 

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Apr 25th, 2014
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A Friend’s Birthday Cards and New Year’s Eve Campfire

Posted By Mike Padgett

 

April 22, 2014

MESA, Ariz. – For several days, I’ve been thinking about a breakfast meeting I had 16 years ago with a friend. He loved life and he wore many hats, including those of media executive and community activist.

Our meeting was in the spring of 1998. Chuck Wahlheim was the first to contact me when I returned to Arizona. I had accepted an offer to relocate to Phoenix to write for The Phoenix Business Journal after working for nearly a year at a newspaper in Washington State.

I had moved out of state in 1997 after the owners of The Phoenix Gazette, my former employer, closed the 117-year-old newspaper.

Chuck saw the news item in the Journal about my return to Arizona. He called to invite me to breakfast.  We met in a hotel restaurant in east Phoenix.

 

Compassionate boss

Chuck was my old boss at the Mesa Tribune from years earlier. From 1977 to 1985, Chuck was the CEO in the executive offices while from 1978 to 1987 I was one of the reporters in the newsroom.

I believe Chuck’s family and friends could share many stories about the influence his energy and guidance had upon their lives.

In my case, there was the day that Chuck ­– after reading one of my stories – ordered the editor to give me a raise, beginning immediately. The story featured a young family I discovered living out of their car parked along the Salt River northeast of Mesa.

That was Chuck – a take-charge, do-it-now kind of business leader.

 

Always a news junkie

When I entered the restaurant that morning for breakfast with Chuck, I saw him seated in a booth. He was focused on the morning newspaper.

Chuck rose to greet me. He acted like we’d just seen each other, though we hadn’t talked since he left the Tribune in 1985. Two years later, in 1987, I resigned from the Tribune when I received a better offer from the Gazette.

During breakfast, Chuck and I updated each other on our careers and families. He said his goal in contacting me was to stay connected as well as to offer his help in arranging interviews with East Valley business leaders.

 

Kids Voting

At this point in his life, Chuck had many achievements. He was former CEO of Cox Arizona Publications, which once included the Mesa Tribune, Tempe Daily News and Chandler Arizonan newspapers.

Chuck helped launch East Valley Partnership in 1982. He left the news business in 1985. In 1988, he helped create Kids Voting, a non-profit organization that encourages children to learn the importance of voting. Three years later, the program went national with Kids Voting USA. In the 2012 presidential election, about 1 million students cast ballots, according to press accounts.

Chuck’s biography on LinkedIn says he “had an extensive career owning or operating over 50 newspapers, network and cable television stations, both as a publisher and corporate CEOs.”

Another story involves the New Year’s Eve party Chuck helped arrange at Usery Mountain Regional Park just northeast of Mesa. Invited were the Tribune staff and a few East Valley business contacts. Chuck reserved a campsite for his rented RV. A couple more RVs were there.

I saw the party as Chuck’s way of celebrating good fortune with friends and employees. The desert park is on the slopes of the foothills, giving us a panoramic view of the East Valley’s city lights.

It was cold that December night, but Chuck’s friendship matched the warmth of the New Year’s Eve campfires.

 

Helped uncover news

I remember the time I joined Chuck for lunch at the Mesa Country Club. He had arranged a meeting with a county official involved in a budget dispute with the Maricopa County Board of Supervisors. The lunch meeting was a backgrounder for Chuck and me. Later, it was confirmed that the final authority on the department budget rested not with the county official, as had been assumed, but with the county supervisors.

After I left the Tribune in 1987, the birthday cards Chuck sent me became our only contact. I don’t know how many others received his cards each year, but I’m sure the number was large.

It was in 1998 when Chuck and I shared breakfast. After that, our careers sent us in different directions. I saw him a couple more times over the years when I contacted him about business stories.

 

Birthday cards stopped

My work progressed at the Business Journal. But in 2006, after 33 years in newspapers, I decided to take early retirement.

Eventually, Chuck’s birthday cards stopped arriving. I made a mental note to invite him to lunch so we could stay connected.

But I waited too long. Charles “Chuck” Wahlheim died earlier this month. He was 82. I will always remember Chuck as a true friend and as one of those executives whose smiles, encouragement and interest in you and your family were genuine.

 

(Copyright @ Mike Padgett, ArizonaNotebook.com. All applicable U.S. and International copyright laws pertain to any and all photographs and other images and articles on this site. Downloading, hot-linking, copying, reproducing, manipulating in any way and/or distribution by print, electronic media or other means is prohibited by law.)

(Please contact Mike Padgett if you are interested in purchasing prints or licensing images on this site, or if you wish to use any of the images on this site for noncommercial purposes. All rights reserved.)

(Ideas for interesting news stories about Arizona residents and businesses are welcome. Please send ideas and suggestions to mike@ArizonaNotebook.com.)

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Apr 22nd, 2014

Memories of Joe and His Grave, Decades Later

Posted By Mike Padgett

March 10,2014

 

Joe looked like he was sleeping. We didn’t know Joe’s age when we rescued him years earlier from the animal shelter, but he had aged gracefully. He was handsome and friendly, and he barked only when strangers approached our home.

 

There were no marks on his body from the truck’s impact. The absence of blood made me assume death came instantly.

 

A large truck braking suddenly makes a distinctive sound. Mom heard it. She looked out the window. It was summer and the roadside weeds were high, so she was puzzled why the truck was stopped in the road. Until the driver reached down and picked up Joe’s limp body.

 

The driver carried Joe carefully off the two-lane highway. Slowly, he placed Joe on the thick grass and weeds in the ditch.

 

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The feelings generated by a dog’s loyalty and friendship over several years are difficult to describe. (Photo “labeled for reuse” in Google images, March 2014.)

 

I’m very sorry, Mom said the man told her. Your dog ran in front of me. I didn’t see him. I’m sorry.

 

Mom said the man paused a minute before he walked back to his truck. It was parked and idling on the road.

 

Later that day, when I arrived home from high school, I learned the bad news. I walked to the ditch east of our driveway. Joe was partly hidden by the tall grass.

 

Joe was on his left side. His proud tail, usually curled over his back, was straight out behind him. Joe’s natural smile was gone. His pink-and-blue-black tongue hung out of his open mouth.

 

I slipped my hands under Joe. I could tell that death came quickly. As I lifted him, his lifeless body opened behind his right shoulder. There was no bleeding. I placed him on the flatbed trailer behind our tractor and drove him to a place next to two trees in our pasture.

 

It was a numbing experience, digging a grave for a loyal companion. I buried Joe nearly 50 years ago, but I still can visualize where I placed him in the pasture. Two trees shade his grave at sunset.

 

Dogs are unique

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Dog enthusiasts walking their dogs exercise themselves as well as their canine friends. The walks also improve the dogs’ socialization. This photo was captured soon after sunrise in New Orleans’ French Quarter. (Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett)

 

Dogs are among my favorite people. The permanent grin and a perpetual tail wag will brighten any day. That’s why it’s frustrating to see dogs that are poorly socialized. They are easy to spot. From their barks, you often can tell whether they are lonely, bored or dangerous. They might bark at everyone they see, or at any sound, real or imagined. Some don’t play well with other dogs.

 

Dogs that exhibit such behavior generally have been abused or ignored by their masters.

 

And as much as we understand about the abilities of dogs, recent books are suggesting they are capable of much more. Two examples are “The Possibility Dogs,” by Susannah Charleson, and “The Genius of Dogs: How Dogs Are Smarter Than You Think,” by Brian Hare and Vanessa Woods.

 

Throughout my childhood and high school years, one or two dogs always shared our home. When I was 5 years old, I remember my neighbor’s dog digging for a small critter that scampered down a hole in a dirt bank. The dog was excited. He whined as his front legs shot dirt back and under him, through his hind legs.

 

When he paused and shoved his nose further down the hole, all motion stopped. He was sniffing and listening.

 

I moved closer to my neighbor’s dog with its head down the critter hole. That was my mistake. I was behind the dog, on my knees, watching. Without warning, the dog shot a double-paws load of dirt back through his rear legs and straight into my face.

 

It took me a few minutes to get the stinging dirt out of my eyes. Meanwhile, the dog kept busy, digging for the critter he never found. He finally gave up.

 

 

Dog disappeared

 

I was in the second grade when we had a small light-colored terrier mutt. His hair was so wiry, every day was a bad hair day for him. But he was my friend. We played around our home in northern Oregon.

 

One day, our bad-hair dog vanished. We never learned what happened. I imagined that he was hit by a car or dognapped. Maybe he fell prey to a larger animal from the surrounding forest.

 

It was a few years later, after we had moved to Washington State, when Joe entered our lives. I don’t remember the year. I think I was about 12. Joe was a collie-chow mix whose personality earned him a permanent place in our memories.

 

Joe was the size of a collie but a little broader across his chest.  His pink tongue was streaked with blue, from his chow heritage. His hair was darker than the collie’s golden color, and it was thick, especially around his neck.

 

Joe’s previous owner had surrendered him to the animal shelter because Joe had nipped a little girl in the neighborhood. Or so we were told. But that story also pointed out that local children had teased Joe, so the owner probably had been forced to take him to the shelter.

 

From the animal shelter, Joe rode home with Mom in the backseat of our car. The first few hours in our home, Joe stayed under the dining room table. He relaxed there, like a handsome sphinx but with his head on his paws. We waited. He watched. We kept our voices calm and low. We placed a water dish nearby. He was in a strange world. We allowed him to become confident in new surroundings.

 

If we walked past the table, he would raise his head and follow us with his eyes. Later that evening, he crawled out from under the table to greet us. He saw that no one was waiting to tease him. We offered him a new home. He offered us his friendship.

 

 

Haircut mistake

 

One summer, because it was especially hot and humid, Dad cut Joe’s thick hair. That buzz cut was a mistake, and it didn’t happen again. Using shears meant for trimming our horses’ manes, Dad cut Joe’s thick hair. He left part of Joe’s thick neck hair and a tuft of hair at the end of Joe’s tail. Joe’s strange haircut startled a neighbor.

 

These memories of Joe’s life with us flooded my mind while I dug his grave. A dog’s loyalty lasts forever in a boy’s memory. Joe’s violent death was in the early 1960s, but I still think about him.

 

After Joe, it was many years before I had time for another dog. I had enlisted in the Air Force, after which I was busy with college studies.

 

 

Cancer: Too late

 

A few years after meeting my Best Friend, and after purchasing our first home, we decided to bring a dog into our lives. She and I chose an Australian shepherd pup from a litter. We called him Bandit because the markings on his face resembled a mask.

 

 

Bandit fed himself from an automatic feeder I built for him. He never became overweight. He enjoyed chasing a Frisbee or a tennis ball. During hot weather, he preferred standing under a running hose to jumping in the swimming pool. I believe he didn’t like the pool because he fell in twice.

 

When we first moved into that home, I walked him into the back yard. Since it was strange territory, he trotted around the yard, sniffing and eyeballing his new surroundings. He turned toward the pool and, without pausing, tried to walk across it. He bobbed to the surface right away and I fished him out. He shook himself off, trotted a short distance and again tried to walk across the water.

 

I pulled him out of the pool again. That second dunking probably convinced Bandit that when he wanted to get to the other side of the pool, the best way is to walk around it. Even when we entered the pool, he stayed on the side, watching us, wagging his tail. A few times, I carried him gently into the pool and lowered him into the water at the pool steps. He tolerated my efforts, but he always dog paddled to the steps and climbed out. I guess he thought it was a game, but he preferred to stay out of the water.

 

In the 11 years Bandit was with us, he provided much friendship and loyalty. He was a high-energy dog, but always quiet and dependable. He was a rare dog.  He worked his way into our hearts.

 

One day, Bandit yelped when he tried to walk fast. His flanks, which should have been soft, were rigid. We drove him to our family vet. Bandit stood still on the examining table, allowing the vet to run his hands across his sides and abdomen. The vet wasn’t sure what to say, other than the situation was not normal. He decided on exploratory surgery.

 

The next day, on the operating table, Bandit died. Our vet said he found cancer that had caused Bandit to bleed internally. It was too late. He was about 11.

 

A dog treated kindly can become a loyal companion, with its wide eyes and willingness to go anywhere. And when the child (or the man, or the woman) is struggling with family or work pressures, the four-footed companion will be there, sitting quietly alongside the chair, listening, watching, waiting, as if to say, “I’m here. I can help. Can I help?”

 

(Copyright @ Mike Padgett, ArizonaNotebook.com. All applicable U.S. and International copyright laws pertain to any and all photographs and other images and articles on this site. Downloading, hot-linking, copying, reproducing, manipulating in any way and/or distribution by print, electronic media or other means is prohibited by law.)

 

(Please contact Mike Padgett if you are interested in purchasing prints or licensing images on this site, or if you wish to use any of the images on this site for noncommercial purposes. All rights reserved.)

 

(Ideas for interesting news stories about Arizona residents and businesses are welcome. Please send ideas and suggestions to mike@ArizonaNotebook.com.)

 

(To avoid missing news, essays, features and photos on www.ArizonaNotebook.com, sign up for convenient email alerts in the FeedBurner box in the right rail. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose.)

 

 

Mar 10th, 2014

Magical History Tours at Musical Instrument Museum

Posted By Mike Padgett

 

Feb. 22, 2014

PHOENIX – This musical time machine encourages visitors to follow musicians into history. Listen to their stories. Study their instruments.

 

The multimedia exhibits in the Musical Instrument Museum (MIM) include the works of legends. Museum visitors, as they tour the exhibits, will hear music and narratives that likely will revive memories of favorite songs, lost loves or personal journeys.

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The Musical Instrument Museum, 4725 E. Mayo Blvd., Phoenix. Photo © copyright by Mike Padgett 

When they look carefully at the instruments, they will see a few scars from concerts and road trips. There are the nicks and scratches Elvis Presley’s guitars received from his large belt buckles. On display is the Martin guitar Presley played in his last concert. It was in Indianapolis in June 1977. He died two months later. The guitar was found in 1982 in a closet at Presley’s estate, Graceland.

 

 

Elvis Exhibit

The Elvis Presley exhibit includes a selection of Presley’s outfits, posters and guitars. Photo courtesy of Musical Instrument Museum

 

And there’s the crack in John Denver’s favorite guitar, the 1910 Gibson his grandmother gave him when he was a boy. She played it when she was a child. Denver said the guitar was cracked when a lumberjack who didn’t like Denver’s singing of a Hank Williams song hit him with it. Denver died in the crash of his private plane in 1997.

 

 

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John Denver received his first guitar from his grandmother. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

The MIM, with its two floors of exhibits, is like a candy store for music fans. The 200,000-square-foot museum houses a collection of 15,000 instruments and other items representing more than 200 countries. About 6,000 items are on display at a time. Many are enclosed in clear cases.

 

One of the museum’s historic instruments is the first Steinway piano ever made. It dates to 1836, or 60 years after the approval of the U.S. Declaration of Independence.

 

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The first Steinway piano. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

My favorite places in this magical history tour are the Artist Gallery and the United States-Canada Gallery. Both galleries are filled with guitars, pianos, costumes and the handwritten lyrics of hit songs spotlighting the achievements of many singers and songwriters.

 

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Displayed are two of Carlos Santana’s guitars. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

There are guitars played by Eric Clapton, Roy Orbison, Carlos Santana, Dick Dale and others. These legends created memorable melodies from inspiration, dedication and metal strings stretched across hollow or solid body guitars. Imagine the stories these instruments could tell.

 

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A special treat for visitors is the piano John Lennon played while he composed “Imagine,” a song released in 1971. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

Visitors enjoy the historic concert video clips showing wicked guitar or piano performances of Fats Domino, Little Richard, Buddy Holly and the Crickets, The Ventures, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Eddie Van Halen, to name a few.

 

 

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Next to Roy Orbison’s guitar is the Grammy awarded posthumously to him in 1990 for his song, “Oh Pretty Woman.” Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

In the Jazz exhibit nearby are instruments from giants of the Big Band Era. There are clarinets played by Artie Shaw and Benny Goodman. There is a trumpet played by Harry James.

 

Female rockers

A special exhibit is “Women Who Rock: Vision, Passion, Power,” coordinated by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland. Featured are the song lyrics, concert posters, videos and costumes of more 70 female artists, including Aretha Franklin, Billie Holiday, Cher, Melissa Etheridge, Linda Ronstadt, Tina Turner, Donna Summer, Janis Joplin, Madonna and many others.  The WWR exhibit is open through April 20.

 

 

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“Women Who Rock: Vision, Passion, Power” exhibit at MIM closes April 20. Photo courtesy of Musical Instrument Museum

 

The MIM is a place where one could spend many hours. As a journalist, I admire the way songwriters can create powerful songs with a melody and a few descriptive phrases.

 

During a recent visit over two days, I gained a new appreciation of the museum’s collection. I watched visitors gently sway or nod in time to the music from their wireless headphones. I was ready to play my air guitar.

 

A teenager at the Rock and Roll exhibit nodded in time to the music. Two others approached him from behind, their eyes transfixed on the video. A man stood motionless in front of the C.F. Martin guitar exhibit. He was captivated by the video explaining the family business that was started in 1833.

 

 

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The C.F. Martin guitar exhibit highlights the company’s history. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

Music’s impact

Scientists are unsure why music has such an impact on the human brain, but they are gathering clues. A study in 2008 found that children with after-school music classes developed higher IQs.

 

A 2009 review of 23 studies involving 1,500 patients concluded that music helped reduce the patients’ heart rates, blood pressures and anxiety levels.

 

A 2010 study concluded that many people have experienced spine chills listening to music.

 

Immortality

One could say some music, whether soft or energetic, can become immortal. Listeners experience the music. They feel it. The musical chemistry brings back to life some favorite memories, first loves or sad goodbyes. They remember high school dances. Or a special event, like a wedding, baptism or funeral.

 

Human physiology can be influenced by a song’s mix of instruments. For example, various instruments in Elton John’s powerful “Runaway Train” paint a mental vision of a powerful train racing along its tracks. This song is an energetic musical journey that includes Eric Clapton on blues guitar and shared vocals. The song is on my list of favorites for inspiration and long drives.

 

 

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Eric Clapton’s 1964 Gibson guitar. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

9/11 songs

Inspiration for music is found all around us, from personal adventures to national headlines. It has been estimated that more than 120 songs were sparked by the terror attacks on the World Trade Center on 9/11.

 

One of those songs is “Freedom,” by Sir Paul McCartney. In a 2007 interview, McCartney said he was sitting in a plane on the tarmac at New York’s John F. Kennedy Airport when he saw the World Trade Center burning. Before his plane took off, the airport was closed. Across America, all aircraft were grounded for days. The day after 9/11, McCartney began writing “Freedom.”

 

Bruce Springsteen wrote several of his songs on his “The Rising” album to honor the 9/11 victims, first responders or family members. The album won several Grammys.

 

But back to the museum’s collection. Visitors should check out its many other instruments. One is a piano its display says was originally made for Czar Nicholas I of Russia. He was Russia’s emperor from 1825 to 1855. The piano is one of only 24 made by Johann August Tischner (1774-1852).

 

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A piano made for Czar Nicholas I of Russia. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

MIM is on Tatum Boulevard in north Phoenix at 4725 E. Mayo Blvd. It has a restaurant and a 300-seat theater for concerts. The museum was founded by Robert Ulrich, former CEO and chairman emeritus of Target Corp.

 

Many more details about the museum, its concert list, admission, design and architectural team are on the museum website, www.MIM.org.

 

(Copyright @ Mike Padgett, ArizonaNotebook.com. All applicable U.S. and International copyright laws pertain to any and all photographs and other images and articles on this site. Downloading, hot-linking, copying, reproducing, manipulating in any way and/or distribution by print, electronic media or other means is prohibited by law.)

 

 

 

Feb 22nd, 2014

A Partial List of Pleasures Awaiting Visitors to Lake Louise in Alberta, Canada

Posted By Mike Padgett

Sept. 19, 2013

LAKE LOUISE, Alberta – One of our most memorable journeys took us to a historic hotel in the Canadian Rockies. It is a place of soaring mountain peaks, ancient glaciers and icy lakes, this destination where nature’s beauty competes with hotel luxury.

 

Life is too short, so 12 months ago we indulged ourselves with a few days at the luxury Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise. The hotel occupies an important place in the history of Canada’s westward expansion in the late 1800s. Plus, this Canadian icon is surrounded by  majestic mountains blanketed with evergreen forests.

 

IMG_1810 - Version 2 All images are ©Mike Padgett/ArizonaNotebook.com

 

The Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise is an elegant hotel where – if it were possible – we would grab time’s pendulum to stop the clock.

 

Our stay at the hotel in the small community of Lake Louise fits into the mother lode of upscale travel. The eight-floor hotel – it has 554 rooms – is dignified and polished but not overdone. The many positives we experienced at this hotel place it very high on our list of favorite high-end hotels.

 

After checking out, we thanked the vacation gods for giving us a string of sunny days in a region that often receives significant rainfall during its short summers.

 

Today, a year later, I often think about our stay at this luxury hotel. It is in a region where nature occupies center stage. On the nearby Trans Canada Highway are fenced overpasses built for wildlife to use to avoid traffic.

 

Besides the friendly and helpful employees, many other things to love about the hotel and its surroundings include:

 

• The rugged beauty of the mountains surrounding the lake and the hotel.

 

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• Tranquil walks at sunrise in the clean mountain air on the trail along the glacial lake.

 

• Stops on the trail to look back at the hotel and its image reflected in the lake’s mirror-smooth surface. The only sound is morning mist dripping from trees.

 

• The lake’s brilliant turquoise color, caused by “rock flour” created by glaciers grinding rocks into powder. Melting snow and ice carry the rock flour into the lake that freezes during winter.

 

• Breathtaking vistas of the lake. Between some of the snowy peaks are glaciers.

 

• Pausing to relax on a trail bench made from peeled logs sawed in half lengthways. Across the lake is the rental canoe dock.

 

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• Breezes whispering through the dense evergreen forest.

 

• Morning dew dripping from the trees and merging into tiny rivulets that trickle off the slopes, across the trail and into the icy lake.

 

• The history of the lake and the luxury hotel, which traces its origin to a guest chalet built in 1890 by the Canadian Pacific Railway.

 

• The hotel’s colorful flowerbeds, kept fresh by a friendly staff.  Flowers dominate the landscaping between the hotel and the lake and also in creative arrangements in the driveway to the hotel’s main entrance.

 

• Watching the lake color change through the day, depending on smoothness of the water and the angle of the sun reflecting off the lake.

 

• Postcard vistas of the lake and the snow-capped mountains through the Lakeview Lounge’s arched windows.

 

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• The ethnic mix of hotel guests speaking languages from the Far East to Europe and the Middle East.

 

• The tasty menu selections at the hotel restaurant, the Glacier Saloon. For economical meals and for picnickers, the hotel’s sandwich shop offers a wide selection of fresh sandwiches and hot meals.

 

• The private Gold Lounge on the seventh floor. We’re not fond of crowds, so this level of privacy and service is worth the extra price. We enjoyed our breakfasts here. In the afternoons, the private lounge offers an honor bar and generous canapés. We had our choice of tables close to windows or in alcoves. The windows offer upper-floor views stretching from the hotel’s entrance to the mountain peaks in the distance.  For privacy, we chose tables in the alcoves.

 

• The courtesy and conscientiousness of hotel and restaurant employees. Hotel staff in the Gold Lounge and at the front desk helped us receive and return documents to negotiate a real estate transaction during our stay.

 

• The view of the lake from our corner room’s windows. Several mornings, we watched a morning breeze cross the lake, painting its glassy surface with ripples.

 

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• Relaxing with favorite books in our room or in the concierge floor lounge at the end of the day.

 

• Finding excuses to walk again along the lake. Photo ops are around every turn in the trail.

 

• A thundering sound echoes occasionally across the lake, even on sunny days. We are told the sounds likely are snow avalanches in the mountains.

 

• Reading about the hotel’s history, and imagining the challenges construction workers faced before there were power tools and concrete trucks.

 

Sadly, major flooding scarred Alberta’s beauty in June. Floodwaters damaged or destroyed homes, businesses, bridges and roads. Southeast of Lake Louise, the Trans Canada Highway was closed for a short time because floodwaters damaged the four-lane highway between Banff and Canmore. Nearly a week later, the highway was repaired and reopened.

 

We send Albertans our wishes for a speedy recovery from the historic flooding. Theirs is a magnificent country where its natural beauty can erase fatigue.

 

Our experience at the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise boosted our interest in luxury travel. We are planning more similar journeys in our slower and gentler lifestyle AD, or After Deadlines.

 

 

(Copyright @ Mike Padgett, ArizonaNotebook.com. All applicable U.S. and International copyright laws pertain to any and all photographs and other images and articles on this site. Downloading, hot-linking, copying, reproducing, manipulating in any way and/or distribution by print, electronic media or other means is prohibited by law.)

 

(Please contact Mike Padgett if you are interested in purchasing prints or licensing images on this site, or if you wish to use any of the images on this site for noncommercial purposes. All rights reserved.)

 

(Ideas for interesting news stories about Arizona residents and businesses are welcome. Please send ideas and suggestions to mike@ArizonaNotebook.com.)

 

(To avoid missing news, essays, features and photos on www.ArizonaNotebook.com, sign up for convenient email alerts in the FeedBurner box in the right rail. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose.)

 

 

 

 

 

Sep 19th, 2013
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To the Ocean, to Read and Recharge

Posted By Mike Padgett

June 1, 2013

SAN DIEGO – Ocean, ocean, ocean, she chants softly with eyes closed and arms stretched in front of her like a conductor. She is resting her head back against the passenger’s seat.

We’re racing west on the interstate to find a slow path on the beach. I’m anticipating salt air with my morning coffee.

My Best Friend opens her eyes and lowers her arms to resume typing on her laptop. We’re halfway across the Arizona and California deserts. Twin dust devils spin in the distance to our left. Three hours ahead is San Diego and the Pacific Ocean.

It is late spring. The possibility of a gray May and a June gloom – a regional saying referring to cloudy or rainy days this time of year – is irrelevant.

Actually, the unpredictable spring weather and the collective daily activities at sunrise on the coast are exhilarating, not gray or gloomy. There is brisk morning air with drifting clouds or fog. We can share endorphins with joggers, cyclists, kayakers and sailing enthusiasts. It is a grand new day, every day.

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Sunrise over the Coronado Bridge in San Diego. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

With each new dawn, Nature offers her personal orchestra. Rays of sunlight reaching through clouds and landing on anchored sailboats turn the watercraft blinding white on dark water.

Pelicans fly single file overhead or glide inches above waves. Solitary motionless herons stand in shallow water, waiting for a meal to swim by.

We’ve made this Phoenix-San Diego road trip many times since our paths crossed years ago at the intersection of Future Journeys and Best of Friends. We are drawn to the coasts of California, Oregon and Washington. The ocean breezes and the sights and sounds of the Pacific Ocean offer beauty and solitude.

The ocean reminds me of the quote, “The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.” Isak Dinesen, pseudonym of Danish writer Baroness Karen Blixen, author of  “Out of Africa,” and “Seven Gothic Tales,” wrote it.

On the beach, all we need are light jackets and each other. And a camera to capture the occasional spring flowers as bright as airport beacons.

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Flowers seem more vibrant in marine environments. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

We enjoy California’s rich variety of cultures, climates, moderate politics and more tolerance of individual differences. During an earlier trip, after learning we live in Arizona, a San Francisco waiter said, jokingly, “You sure have your problems.” He referred to Arizona headlines that are trapped in negative viral mode.

When we visited San Diego a year ago for a conference, I took a seat at our 23rd floor window to watch the day begin. My coffee was too hot. Joggers wound their way on their routes between the downtown high-rises and along the marina.

I watched as a three-deck yacht, one of the largest in the marina, was maneuvered from its slip. On the yacht’s top deck was a small silver helicopter. I wonder about the boat’s ownership.

On our newest visit, 11 months later, the time is ours. No business meetings. No conferences. We set aside this time to read, to leave our car parked, and to walk along the bay. No standing in lines at museums and restaurants. No fighting traffic. No searching for parking spaces or gasoline stations. Coronado is our destination.

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Solitary fishermen often are the first to greet sunrise on San Diego Bay. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

On our morning walks along the bay, we encounter several other early risers. The earliest to greet the new day are fishermen. They are in their boats, positioned at favorite spots but out of the water traffic lanes, as we walk past. Next are joggers and bicyclists. A man on a skateboard – one foot pumping, the other on the skateboard – races to keep up with his dog on a leash. A few walkers, of all ages, walk alone. A few others walk hand in hand. We pass an exercise class for a dozen young mothers, each with a baby buggy, on the promenade.

During our pre-dinner walk our first night on this trip, we stop to watch a dozen small, dark amphibious craft,­ each carrying four or five passengers, cruise at high speed  – in single file – on San Diego Bay. Since it was after sundown, maybe it was night military training. Naval Amphibious Base Coronado is nearby.

We walk a short distance to Currents, the restaurant at the Coronado Island Marriott Resort & Spa. Dinner was seared salmon filets. Dessert was a shared slice of chocolate and peanut butter pie with caramel sauce.

The next morning, after a breakfast of lump crab hash topped with a fried egg, we spend the day reading, checking email and watching activity on and around the bay.

This part of Coronado has been one of our favorite getaways for many years. We remember when the hotel was the Coronado Island Le Meridien. In the late 1990s, the Marriott Corp. announced its plans to buy the property, according to news accounts.

From our villa patio, we can watch the daily slowmo parade of Navy and cargo ships on the bay. A man, on his stomach, paddles by on a surfboard. He passes two kayaks. Passing him is a giant cargo ship. We check the behemoth ship’s name on the Internet and learn that it is delivering new European automobiles to dealers on the West Coast. San Diego was its first stop after passing through the Panama Canal.

We watch a few sailboats cruise by slowly, their sails filled with gentle breezes. The sky is clear. A water taxi crosses the bay, carrying several passengers to downtown San Diego.

In the distance is the Coronado Bridge where, on weekday afternoons, the Coronado-to-San Diego rush hour traffic can slow to a crawl. A recent road rage incident on the bridge between a motorist and a motorcyclist is in the news.

Life goes on. In the hotel, we enjoy the waiter’s recommendation – sea bass on a bed of mashed potatoes and steamed veggies.

On previous trips, we enjoyed walking through Coronado’s residential neighborhoods, filled with small bungalows, larger contemporary homes and restored mansions.

We also enjoyed morning walks on the promenade in Coronado along the bay and under the Coronado Bridge. If you go, follow the path past the anchored sailboats, under the bridge and along the golf course.

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Sunset on the beach in Southern California. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

Walking along the beach or bay allows time for reflection. There are no I-shoulda-dones, and the only regret is, time passes too quickly.

The following morning, on another day set aside for more reading and walking, we begin with a breakfast of blueberry scones, bananas and caffeine. We’re planning to order gyros for lunch at a nearby restaurant. Dinner? We haven’t decided. Our week is going well.

 

 

(Copyright @ Mike Padgett, ArizonaNotebook.com. All applicable U.S. and International copyright laws pertain to any and all images and articles on this site. Downloading, hot-linking, copying, reproducing, manipulating in any way and/or distribution by print, electronic media or other means is prohibited by law.)

 

(Please contact Mike Padgett if you are interested in purchasing prints or licensing images on this site, or if you wish to use any of the images on this site for noncommercial purposes. All rights reserved.)

 

(Ideas for interesting news stories about Arizona residents and businesses are welcome. Please send ideas and suggestions to mike@ArizonaNotebook.com.)

 

(To avoid missing news, essays, features and photos on www.ArizonaNotebook.com, sign up for convenient email alerts in the FeedBurner box in the right rail. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose.)

 

 

 

Jun 1st, 2013

Stuck in Heathrow, by way of Ankara, Istanbul and a London Gothic Icon

Posted By Mike Padgett

April 29, 2013

LONDON – The situation was grim. It was dark and raining. We were anxious to get home. But our British Airways jet, because one of its engines refused to start, was grounded at Heathrow Airport.

We had expected to be airborne on this nonstop flight across the Atlantic Ocean, from England to Arizona. Sorry, the captain announced, but everybody must leave the plane and return to the terminal.

We grabbed our carry-on bags from the overhead bins. No smiles in this group. Baggage handlers returned to our plane to unload the hundreds of bags and freight they had just stowed.

Crewmembers handed out vouchers for meals or drinks as passengers filed out of the airliner. We could do nothing but wait for news about Plan B for our flight home.

In the terminal, we found seats away from a handful of whining passengers. My Best Friend reached for her iPad, on which she stores a growing collection of  books. I pulled out my iPod. Music helps me relax. It sent my thoughts back over the past few days. I began to realize that on this romantic journey in London, despite our sore throats, we had set our personal adventure bar a little higher. We had traveled back in time in a fairy tale icon from a different era.

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After renovations, the St. Pancras Renaissance London Hotel opened in 2011. It first opened in 1873 as the Midland Grand Hotel. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

Creative genius

I thought about the history we absorbed during our stay at St. Pancras Renaissance London Hotel. The once-neglected Victorian hotel, after renovations, is one of London’s most popular attractions.

I imagined to myself that if we lived in London, we would frequent St. Pancras, which is in the King’s Cross area in central London. With its history and architectural beauty, St. Pancras offers a unique energy. We would sit at a window table in O’Neill’s Pub across Euston Road and dream about the hotel’s earlier years. We would raise a toast to the hotel’s grand architecture and to its important role in London’s history, past as well as future.

We would salute the creative genius required to design and erect this landmark gothic structure in the 1870s. The architect was Sir George Gilbert Scott. The architectural gem opened as the Midland Grand Hotel.

Survived air raids

Over several generations, the building served its original purpose with flair before it fell into disrepair, starting in the 1920s. It was closed in 1935. During World War II, the hotel withstood three bombings from German air raids.

After World War II, according to hotel literature, the once-grand hotel was renovated into offices for British Rail and its hospitality business. British Rail moved out of the building in 1985, after which time the building sat neglected and mostly empty.

In its 2006 press release, Marriott International announced that its Renaissance hotel brand will be “part of the St. Pancras Chambers historic restoration project” in a management contract with owner Manhattan Loft Corp.

The recent restoration project included converting the upper floor of the main building into 67 apartments. For hotel guests, there are 38 suites in the restored building and 207 rooms in the hotel’s new wing.

Movies and trains

The gothic hotel’s unique architecture has been featured in several movies, including Harry Potter, Batman, Richard III, and others. The hotel also is a key part of the western terminus of the Channel Tunnel Rail Link, which connects London to France and Belgium. We walked through the hotel’s Booking Office restaurant and into the adjoining rail station. The arriving and departing trains reminded us of our earlier trip on the Eurostar from Paris to London.  The trip crosses picturesque English and French countrysides and goes under the English Channel.

 

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The trip between Paris and London, on the streamlined Eurostars at speeds up to 200 mph, lasts about 2 hours 15 minutes. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

Proposed for demolition

It is hard to imagine that the St. Pancras hotel sat empty for several years or that it once was proposed for demolition. Eventually, after forward-thinking minds prevailed, the grand building received historic status. After renovation, it was reopened in 2011 as the St. Pancras Renaissance London Hotel.

Our suite was a few doors from the hotel’s grand staircase. The winding three-story cantilevered staircase features giant stained glass windows tall enough for cathedrals.

 

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Looking down one side of the grand staircase. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

Each day, as we passed the elegant staircase, its architectural beauty reached out to us. We admired the red and gold fleur-de-lis wallpaper, and the graceful wood railing that tops the staircase’s original iron grillwork. It was easy to imagine the fashions of the late 1800s descending the stairs. Ladies  in decorative hats and bustle dresses. Men in suits and top hats, carrying walking sticks.

 

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The grand staircase landings feature polished stone pillars and intricate stone arches and gargoyles. The staircase’s vaulted ceiling is painted with a celestial scene. Photo © copyright by Mike Padgett

The hotel’s architectural beauty has the attention of others, too, including real estate developers. During our walks through the neighborhood, we saw that this part of London is undergoing a commercial rebound. We counted several construction cranes within a few blocks of the hotel.

A retreat at the Chambers Club

Our retreat to St. Pancras included access to the hotel’s Chambers Club, which offers guests a quiet, cozy atmosphere for meals. We found the gracious manager and wait staff as courteous as long-time friends. We preferred the Club’s smaller tables in alcoves. Most guests talked in whispers. The Club became our temporary home because we were struggling with sore throats. Over-the-counter meds and cough drops we found at local pharmacies helped. As a result, we canceled plans involving crowded tours. Instead, we immersed ourselves in the hotel’s history and its ambiance.

The Chambers Club also offered Internet access. That amenity became critical on this adventure because, prior to our journey, we had initiated the purchase of another home while planning for the sale of our existing home in Arizona. The back-to-back transactions meant staying connected with our Realtors and lenders to keep the paper work on track.

Midnight landing in Ankara

This journey partway around the world had started two weeks earlier with a late night landing in Ankara. It was our first trip to Turkey, often called the cradle of civilizations. Our adventure to the former Ottoman Empire began months earlier in 2012 when my Best Friend received an invitation to speak at Turkey’s first national education conference at Middle East Technical University.

After landing in Ankara, we had become separated from our luggage. When we landed in Istanbul on an international flight from London and boarded a domestic flight to Ankara, we assumed we would claim our luggage in the domestic flight area in Ankara. Eventually, we found our bags in the international part of the terminal.

Our luggage search made us an hour late in meeting our driver and interpreter at the curb. It was now after midnight. And to their credit, they had waited for us. We’re sure we were the last visitors to leave the airport that night.

They drove us to our rooms on campus. The next morning, with help from our driver, we registered for the conference. Over the next few days, in conversations with many educators, we saw their dedication to teaching is similar to what we have seen throughout the United States and in Australia, Ireland and other nations. Educators, wherever they teach, have similar noble goals – showing young lives what is possible, helping them grow, and finding their individual paths to their personal best.

Gracious friends with us at the METU conference helped us navigate Ankara. They gave us an insider’s view of their wonderful city. We dined in several fine restaurants and visited the mausoleum of the founder and first president of modern Turkey.

 

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The mausoleum of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder and first president of modern Turkey, on one side of the Ceremonial Plaza. Ataturk died in 1938. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

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One major entrance to Ataturk’s mausoleum and the Ceremonial Plaza is the Road of Lions, a walkway lined with several pairs of stone lions. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

Foodies will enjoy Turkey’s culinary delights. In Turkey, one does not eat and run. The meals are social events. The menus include sea bass, seaweed, eggplant, bonito, calamari and many other fresh items. The large selection of seafood originates in the Black Sea and the Mediterranean Sea, which surround much of Turkey.

From a lunch menu at a university restaurant in Ankara, I ordered a chicken chimichanga, a popular fried burrito filled with cheese and chicken. The Turkish version of the Mexican chimichanga was tasty, but it was mild. I prefer a chimi with spicy salsa and guacamole.

Five lanes in four

In Ankara and Istanbul, we learned much about driving in Turkey. We saw that five lanes of slow traffic, even with large trucks and tour buses, fit easily on a four-lane road. Stripes marking the lanes are ignored. So are speed limits.

Winding two-way streets in historic parts of Ankara often are wide enough for only one vehicle. When two drivers meet on these streets, one of them turns into an alley entrance or parking spot to let the oncoming driver pass.

 

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From the patio of a high-rise restaurant, a view of the skyline of an older part of Istanbul overlooking the Bosporus Strait. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

A friend driving us to lunch in Ankara asked if I’d like to drive in Turkey. I declined. He smiled. A short time later, as our friend approached a security checkpoint, he was waved over by security guards. They checked the trunk while we were escorted into the guardhouse, where we were asked to walk through X-ray machines and open our bags. A few minutes later, the guards thanked us and we were on our way. Security, our friends told us, is part of life in Turkey.

Wrong line at Ankara airport

We met many gracious friends and strangers in Turkey. One stranger was the agent at the airport gate at Ankara on our way to Istanbul. We were late for checking in at Ankara, so we hustled to the gate after getting through two levels of security – first at the terminal entrance and then again past the ticket counter.

At the gate, not knowing Turkish, we stepped into a line. Wrong line, but the gracious agent waved us through. We found our separate seats on the plane.

Once in Istanbul, after collecting our luggage, we found the taxi queue. The driver stowed our luggage. We had guesstimated that our hotel was 45 minutes away, maybe an hour, depending on traffic.

Bad luck was with us. It was 6 p.m. on a Saturday. The September day was very warm. Our moods were affected by the sore throats we had developed soon after arriving in Ankara. Over the next hour and 20 minutes, in Istanbul’s stop-and-go freeway traffic, we saw two accidents. In one, a car was on its roof. Onlookers stood in the median.

Vendors were hawking bottles of water on the freeway. They walk between the vehicles when traffic stops or slows to a crawl. Outside the car ahead of our taxi was a man reaching through the passenger’s window, handing a bottle of water to the driver. The water vendor’s flip-flopping leather sandals stayed two steps ahead of the car’s rear wheels.

At our hotel, our driver stopped at the security guardhouse at the entrance to the hotel property. The guard looked at our luggage in the trunk. He then used a mirror on a pole to look on the underside of our taxi. He waved our taxi through. It was a short distance to the hotel’s front door. There, our luggage was taken to an X-ray machine at another security checkpoint inside the hotel lobby.

The view from our room in the Hilton Istanbul was from the European side of the Bosporus Strait, looking east across to the Asian side. We appreciated the graciousness of the staff as well as the variety of meals offered.

 

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From the balcony of our room in Istanbul, we watched civilian and military ships cruise the Bosporus Strait between the Mediterranean Sea and the Black Sea. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

We saw a variety of ships cruise the Bosporus Strait, including cruise ships, freighters and military ships. My Best Friend saw a trim military ship with the Russian hammer and sickle insignia. Russian ships, friends told us, often cruise these waters.

One afternoon, friends guided us through a historic shopping district of Istanbul. There, in this major city of a largely Muslim nation, we visited St. Anthony of Padua Cathedral, the largest Roman Catholic church in Istanbul. It was filled with visitors.

 

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Interior of St. Anthony of Padua Cathedral. Copyright © photo by Mike Padgett

 

Our friends also took us for a walk across a university campus on a hillside overlooking the Bosporus Strait. Later that afternoon, they treated us to a meal in a restaurant across the street from the Bosporus. Mist from splashing waves drifted over the sidewalk.

A few days later, after enjoying Istanbul, we hired a taxi for the ride back to the airport. We were booked on a sunrise flight to London. The traffic was light because it wasn’t yet rush hour. But our taxi ride, because speed limits generally were ignored, reminded me of the chase scene (minus the collisions) in the movie, “The French Connection.”

Replacement jumbo jet

My memories of our friends in Turkey, their graciousness and the culinary delights helped pass the time waiting in Heathrow for a replacement airliner. Eventually, we heard good news. We learned that British Airways had a replacement airliner. Local crews had finished their maintenance on the other jet, making it available for us. Our original plane could not be repaired in time.

The other airliner would be waiting for us at a different gate, the agent announced. We picked up our bags. It’s several hours past our departure time, but we’re headed home. The experiences shared by new friends in Ankara, Istanbul and the romantic St. Pancras hotel have set a new standard for our future travels.

(Copyright @ Mike Padgett, ArizonaNotebook.com. All applicable U.S. and International copyright laws pertain to any and all images and articles on this site. Downloading, hot-linking, copying, reproducing, manipulating in any way and/or distribution by print, electronic media or other means is prohibited by law.)

(Please contact Mike Padgett if you are interested in purchasing prints or licensing images on this site, or if you wish to use any of the images on this site for noncommercial purposes. All rights reserved.)

(Ideas for interesting news stories about Arizona residents and businesses are welcome. Please send ideas and suggestions to mike@ArizonaNotebook.com.)

(To avoid missing news, essays, features and photos on www.ArizonaNotebook.com, sign up for convenient email alerts in the FeedBurner box in the right rail. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose.)

Apr 29th, 2013
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