Flowing with the wind:Spanish Beard
I love visiting my friend who lives on the outskirts of Tampa. Why? It has a lot to do with her one year old son, but also I love looking at the Spanish Beard as it sways gently in the breeze, clump upon clump lie wrapped over branches like old cloth wrung out to dry. It always reminds me of something out of “Gone with the Wind”.
by Cate
Native to Louisiana, Spanish Moss goes with the wind — by its strands or by bird — all the way down to Florida. And there is stays draped over trees, creating the perfect nesting material for birds and an spooky atmosphere for Halloween.
by Cate
Prized for its resilience to insects, the fibres were widely used in mattresses during the 19th century. Innovation has seen a change in the demand for this green moss, but that doesn’t bother me. As a newbie to this area I love the look of this plant, the way it captures the light, the way it flows with the wind, not against it.
by Cate
I haven’t seen any moss around my area; only palms, palms and more palms.
Caffeinated Traveller
One person’s food is another’s fodder
Orange, red, green, grey, yellow, big, small, round, oblong, there are so many ways to describe the humble pumpkin. And so many ways to eat it, well for some cultures that is, others tend to use this versatile vegetable as simply decoration.
It’s autumn and along with the seasonal changes in leaves, picking fruit and reaping hay, there is also pumpkin harvesting where the harvested crop end up on people’s porches as “art” or in Thanksgiving pies as soulful “yum”. Pumpkin in the US is symbolic for something I haven’t quite figured out, but whatever it is, this vegetable accords special status in supermarket displays every autumn.
via D Sharon Pruitt
In New Zealand a pumpkin is just a vegetable, nothing more nothing less. This orange delight is served roasted with lamb, steamed for its vitamins, pulped for soup, added to savoury scones and muffins and sometimes used for sweets like pie. It doesn’t receive any special accolades or seasonal rights on the vegetable display shelves. Seldom does it get carved and carefully placed on window sills and verandas. But it does get eaten — by humans — in every way imaginable.
Head over to England and pumpkin is considered fodder for cows in the way New Zealand farmers use turnips and swedes. Roasting pumpkin is just not done. Some European countries still serve pumpkin with stews and casseroles as do parts of southern China — and Japan adds it to various savoury dishes.
Like all bright coloured fruits and vegetables the mighty pumpkin is valued for its medicinal properties. Wander down some of the older parts of cities like Seoul and you will likely find a tiny pumpkin processing shop crammed between bigger shops. Koreans add pumpkin to yogurt and blend it with rice for gruel. There is even a pumpkin candy usually sold by street vendors during the winter months. This stuff is brutal and requires a set of strong teeth.
So what is great about the pumpkin (American) aka pepon (French) or pumpion (English) particularly in a sweet pie? The vegetable is believed to have originated in North America, the first pie came about in the late 17th century baked by early settlers using the outer skin as the pie casing. Why is it eaten around Thanksgiving? Harvest time. Historically though, the pumpkin pie was served as a vegetable in colonial times long before natural and unnatural sweeteners took over and claimed it as a dessert.
There is one part of the pumpkin that follows a similar consumption path no matter which country and that is the pumpkin seed. Roasted or toasted, salted or naturally bland, seed chomping can be viewed wherever you travel.
by Cate
Who is up for pumpkin pie? I’m more of a Thai Pumpkin soup fan myself.
Caffeinated Traveller
Confessions of an addict
It’s a desperate feeling that often sweeps over me when I’m wondering around a new place. A desire so strong its uncontrollable and before I know it, I’m standing outside a shop spinning a stand looking for something to quell this urge inside of me.
This something can be in the form of a gadget that depicts where I am visiting like a key ring or pin, but usually it’s a picture — be it a retro take on life or a creative composition. And then when I’ve found my visual hit I saunter over to a shady seat preferably with a view, and write these words — having a great time, wish you were here.
My name is Cate and I am a postcard addict.
I remember how the addiction began with a visit to London, I was mesmerised by pictures of men dressed in red and black wearing furry hats, shiny gemstones set in crowns, and gaudy dressed folk from the East End. The vivid colours lured me into an old world I had touched upon in social studies classes at school.
Then Paris gave me visions of steel and glass, watercolours and oils that I couldn’t better with my tiny point and shoot Olympus. Greece offered up its blue seas and whitewashed churches only the way a postcard could do it. Behind Yugoslavia’s iron wall I was unable to shoot — with a camera — and had to go with postcards portraying a country with a false sense of security. All these experiences enabled my addiction.
Soon walls were crammed with palaces, flamenco dancers, bull fighters and country pubs. Landscapes tried to compete for space as golden beaches overlapped snowclad mountains and tranquil fields of poppies. Time gave way to torn edges and discoloration, but my pictures still remain pinned to the wall reminding me of where I’ve ventured as though I am an old lady clinging to my past when really all I want is visual stimulation.
by Cate
When postcards become “so last century”, I mourned for the loss of a once popular pastime that involved writing a few simple but succinct sentences to tie into the travel experience. Postcard writing was an art back then which hasn’t made it into the e-world of tweets, texts and email. Times have changed — omg I can’t believe I’m saying this.
In case you don’t know me, I am the one who stands in the souvenir shop spinning the squeaky card stand, I am the one who pulls dusty cards from holders giving them a new life. I am the one who seeks out stamps and airmail stickers hunting down the elusive post office.
I am the one who receives snickers from young backpackers and snide comments from embarrassed friends as I go on the prowl for another picture postcard buzz.
I am an addict.
Caffeinated Traveller
Jean Batten: aviatrix, explorer and glamour queen.
A dreadful feeling of loneliness almost overwhelmed me as I left the African coast and steered the aeroplane out into the blackness of the Atlantic on a course for Brazil, nearly two thousand miles away. To the north I could see the blurred gleam of the lighthouse at Dakar sending its friendly beam out into the night. I switched off the navigation lights, for the lighted cabin seemed to make the darkness outside more intense as I peered vainly through the windows trying to distinguish the horizon. “It must get light soon,” I thought, glancing at the clock, to realize that it was only twenty minutes since I had left Thies.”
(Jean Batten – solo round the world aviatrix 1909 -1982)
I’ve often wondered what drives a person like Jean Batten to explore beyond the norm: to set records that exert physical and mental energy, to keep going when loneliness sets in; or was she someone who yearned for solitude?
by Cate
Back then…
During the early 1900′s when flight had taken hold on the modern world, aviators and aviatrixes grew in numbers and so did intrepid flight pursuits. Well known amongst this group were the American Amelia Earhart, British Amy Johnson, Australian Kingsford Smith and New Zealander Jean Batten. Remarkable trips were recorded on a constant basis by these pilots and others: solo Trans Atlantic flights, Trans Tasman, Trans Pacific and England to New Zealand.
These trips are now considered everyday flights taken by ordinary people, but back then when the word plane was prefixed with “aero” not “air”, and designs for efficiency were ongoing, taking a solo flight around the globe was pretty phenomenal.
In the mid 1930′s novice pilot Jean Batten left England for Australia in an attempt to break (or take) the world record that renown aviatrix Amy Johnson made 3 years earlier. And she did, eventually. After three risky attempts, Jean Batten flew from England to Australia in 14 days, in a small plane, a de Havilland Gypsy Moth.
Women like Batten had gumption but they didn’t compromise on their style nor glamour. It is reputed that when Batten went on her record breaking flights, she always carried a dress — and possibly makeup.
by Cate
She lived on thermos tea and coffee, sandwiches and goodwill. She also relied on luck, local knowledge and sheer determination. To me she epitomised adventure: a solo woman who didn’t worry herself sick about personal safety, didn’t carry a personal alarm system or mace spray. Like explorers before and after her, she used a combination of intellect, wit and charm to get what she wanted — to fly the skies.
Roots and Ending
Jean Batten was born on September 15 1909, if she were alive today she would have turned 101 on Wednesday 15 Sept. She was dubbed Garbo of the Skies for her glamorous looks and introverted lifestyle once her fame died out. A great woman remembered in her home town Rotorua where memorials have been erected in her honour outside the town’s information centre and inside the airport terminal. But sadly she has been forgotten by most of the modern day world. Batten’s mysterious death in Spain 1982 went unnoticed by the press an organisation that used to adore her; she was found in an unmarked grave reputed to have died of complications from a dog bite.
by Cate
As I read her biography “My Life” it felt I was seated next to her, in the passenger’s seat as she flew over the dusty barren terrain of Persia and the mountainous landscape of Europe. She had lunch with officials and tea with expat wives, she worked alongside mechanics on her plane and negotiated flight details with commanders.
Jean Batten is a fine example of how travel defines a person. For more in depth information about the marvels of Jean Batten check out Travel for Aircraft’s recent post.
Caffeinated Traveller
