WANDERING THROUGH SICILY, Part I, Guest Post by Gretchen Woelfle

Mosaics, Cathedral Monreale

My friend Gretchen Woelfle recently went to Sicily and sent me this report.  Gretchen is a fellow children’s book author whose recent books include Write On, Mercy! The Secret Life of Mercy Otis Warren and  All the World's a Stage, A Novel in Five Acts.  Find out more at www.gretchenwoelfle.com .
 

I’m just back from two weeks in Sicily, traveling with a fellow hiker and art lover. It’s a land of lovely landscapes, great food and friendly people, though for me, half the pleasure was the chance to hear the Italian language in all its mellifluous splendor, and to watch the body language that accompanies it.  Men and women are equally adept at choreographing their conversations, and some actually seem incapable of speaking a word without moving hands and arms.

Gretchen in Palermo Alley

Apart from people-watching and listening, there’s so much to do on this island that’s been colonized for millennia by the Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Normans, French – and by the Italians, whom Sicilians may consider ‘foreigners.’  (Sicily has its own Regional Parliament and a certain amount of autonomy from the government in Rome.) 

Cathedral Viewed from Cloister

Architecture and artwork reflect this cultural mélange and we visited minimalist Arab-Norman churches filled with stunning Byzantine mosaics.  Standouts include the Capella Palatina inside the Norman Palace (Palermo), Monreale Cathedral (near Palermo), and Cefalù Cathedral.

If Baroque is your thing, Sicily is full of it.  A devastating earthquake in 1693 meant that whole towns and cities were rebuilt in the current fashion.  We visited Noto to see some of its most lavish manifestations, and the Val di Noto in the southeast (Ragusa, Modia and more) is similarly blessed (or cursed, depending on your taste.) 

Ceramic steps, Caltagirone

For one week, I arranged a home exchange in Caltagirone, a shabby-chic (my favorite kind) Baroque town that’s also a World Heritage site for a ceramics tradition, still alive and well.  A ceramic-tiled 142-step staircase illustrates their 900-year-old history of the art. The town is crammed with shops selling the latest versions of traditional designs.

Ruins, Agrigento

From Caltagirone we were well-placed for day trips to Greek and Roman archaeological sites, another lure to Sicily.  The Greek amphitheater at Taormina – renovated by the conquering Roman – gives stunning views of both the Mediterranean and Mount Etna.  The Valley of the Temples at Agrigento, near the south coast, is perhaps the most impressive site with three large temples built on a ridge overlooking the sea, and several smaller ones in various states of disarray. A nearby museum displays room after room of artifacts from the ruins.

Greek Amphitheater, Siracusa

Siracusa has heaps of stone foundations from the largest Greek city in Sicily, with an enormous amphitheatre holding 15,000 people, where plays of Aeschylus and other Greek playwrights were premiered (and are still performed each summer.) Archimedes was a native of Siracusa, killed by invading Romans, and his alleged tomb is part of the complex. 

The quarries that provided the stones to build Siracusa are adjacent to the theatre and today are filled with a lush garden landscape.  Some of the quarried caves are accessible, including the “Ear of Dionysius” named by Caravaggio who discovered its fantastic acoustics.  Whether he was referring to the Greek god of wine or the tyrant who imprisoned his enemies there is not common knowledge.

Hunt Mosaic, Villa Romana del Casale

The Villa Romana del Casale, outside the town of Piazza Armerina, is a jewel of a site, only uncovered in the twentieth century. It’s a grand villa from the 4^th century AD, and while the buildings are gone, the mosaic floors in dozens of rooms are pristine.  Abstract patterns, mythological subjects, marine scenes, and a 200 foot long Corridor of the Great Hunt are on display. The Great Hunt tells a wonderful story of hunters searching the entire Roman Empire, from Africa to India, to bring back exotic animals to Rome. But the most popular room may be the one uncovered in 1960, showing “Bikini Girls” engaged in various sporting activities. 

"Bikini Girls" Villa Romana del Casale

Next week, Part II:  Gretchen climbs volcanoes and braves the highways of Sicily!

THE WELSH EISTEDDFOD - A Tournament of the National Arts, from the Memoir of Carolyn T. Arnold

A misty morning in Wales. Photo by Carolyn T. Arnold

Think Edinburgh Fringe crossed with Glastonbury – and then think Wales – and you’ll be halfway to picturing the National Eisteddfod, the must-do event in the Welsh festival calendar. Here is a report by my husband’s Aunt Carolyn on the Eisteddfod, which she experienced at the end of her year as an exchange teacher in Wales in 1953.  She did not take any photos of the Eisteddfod.  You can see some images at:  http://www.eisteddfod.org.uk/english/about-us/

The Welsh Eisteddfod, a kind of tournament of the national arts, is the highlight of the year in Wales.  The roots of this ceremony are derived from very ancient times when bards wandered from village to village and from chieftain to chieftain singing their songs and recounting their stories. It means “a sitting” or “session”. The first authentic Eisteddfod was held at Caerwys and Cardigan in 1176.  The prizes are two chairs or thrones–one for the best performer on the harp, and the other for the best poet.
Various local Eisteddfods are held during the year all over Wales.  Successful competitors attend the National Ceremony [held during the first week of August in a different place each year, usually alternating between north and south.]
The National Eisteddfod begins early in the day with the Ceremony of Gorsedd.  Officials place a circle of stones in a meadow with the entrance facing east.  In the center is the altar stone.  The “druids” are elderly or middle-aged men robed in white.  The druids, bards, and novates (women) form a procession and march into the center of the circle.  Between the ranks strides a man in green bearing a double-handed sword.  Behind him comes the chief Druid who takes his place at the high altar.  Others group around the circle.
The Great Sword is unsheathed and one by one the druids advance and place their hands on it.  The chief Druid lifts his voice and cries in Welsh, “Is there peace?” He calls three times and three times a resounding shout comes from the crowd, “THERE IS PEACE!”  The chief Druid then delivers a long speech in Welsh.  He is followed by other speakers.
The ceremony is over, and the Eisteddfod is opened.  Bands play and the air of festivity heightens.  Competition begins for the performers.  (The judges are out of sight to maintain their impartiality.) Children under the age of 18 compete in the penillion http://www.music4musicians.com/penillion.htmsinging.  This is a difficult art as the harpist plays the melody while the vocalist sings the accompaniment.  In other words, the technique of modern singing is reversed.  The children who use the counterpoint prove what an extraordinary part music plays in ordinary homes in Wales. [To hear a lovely example of penillion singing, click here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CLQ-KUOljM ]
The competition goes on for several days.  In the evening, concerts attract large crowds which are not competitive.  Some say the Eisteddfod is the voice of Wales.

Wales.  Valle Cruces Abbey near Langollen. Photo by Carolyn T. Arnold

Note:  Perhaps the original intrepid tourist was Carolyn Arnold, my husband’s aunt.  A single school teacher in Des Moines, she began traveling abroad when she was in her forties, beginning with a bicycling trip through Ireland in 1950.  She went on from there to spend a year as a Fulbright Exchange Teacher in Wales, to more trips to Europe and beyond, and eventually became a tour leader, including all her nieces and nephews (including my husband Art) on her travels.  When she retired from teaching, she wrote of her experiences in a memoir called Up and Down and Around the World with Carrie.  Today, as I read of her travels, I marvel at her spirit of adventure at a time when women did not have the independence they do today.
Read more of Aunt Carolyn’s travels:
ROLLING THROUGH IRELAND, July 29, 2013
CYMRU AM BYTH - Welcome to Wales, October 7, 2013

MONARCH BUTTERFLIES at the Ellwood Butterfly Grove, Goleta, CA

Monarch butterfly, Ellwood Butterfly Grove, Goleta, California

Among nature’s most incredible journeys is the annual migration of monarch butterflies.  After spending the summer fluttering and feeding in woods and fields in the United States and Canada, the butterflies travel south for the winter, flying up to 80 miles in a single day.  Monarchs east of the Rockies fly to the mountains of central Mexico. (See update below.)  Monarchs west of the Rockies make their way to California where they gather in eucalyptus groves along the coast.

On a recent sunny afternoon in early October, Art and I visited one of these butterfly groves near Santa Barbara, California--the Ellwood Grove and neighboring Coronado Grove in Goleta, not far from the University of California Santa Barbara campus. Tucked between a residential neighborhood and an open coastal mesa, giant eucalyptus trees grow along a seasonal creek. At the peak of the season, in December and January, more than 50,000 monarchs cluster in the trees in this grove.

We knew it was a bit early to see the giant clumps of butterflies hanging like bunches of orange and black living leaves, but already some of the monarchs had arrived for the winter.  As we walked the shady paths through the grove (which is protected as a nature preserve) a parade of butterflies flitted over our heads, their colorful wings catching the sunlight.  And then we came upon a bush where we found hundreds of butterflies perched like jewels as they fed on the flowers.  As we watched them up close, we could see their tiny legs and antennae and their coiled proboscises sucking up nectar. 

Monarchs have an amazing life cycle.  An adult monarch lays its eggs on milkweed leaves.  When the eggs hatch, the caterpillars eat the leaves. After a few weeks, when the caterpillars are about two inches long, they stop eating, attach themselves to a leaf, and form a beautiful light green chrysalis. Inside the chrysalis, the caterpillar grows wings and metamorphosizes into a butterfly. After about two weeks, the butterfly emerges, gradually unfolding its wings. When they dry, the butterfly is ready to fly.  It will look for food, lay eggs, and the cycle of life will begin again.

When monarchs eat milkweed sap, a little bit of the poison in the sap becomes part of their bodies.  It helps protect them from birds and other predators. (Predators do not eat monarchs because they taste bad.)

Information sign at Coronado entrance to grove

Monarch butterflies have a life span of about a year.  Each butterfly makes the migration trip only once.  The amazing thing is that they know where to go even though they have never been there before. If we return again next year to see the butterflies, we will see the descendants of those that fluttered over our heads on this trip.

Coronado Butterfly Preserve:  Located adjacent to the Ellwood Grove.  Click HERE for more information:

Video: For a great video of the butterfly migration and information about other monarch groves in California click HERE.

Directions to the Ellwood Butterfly Grove and Coronado Butterfly Preserve: Click HERE for directions to the Coronado entrance to the Elwood Butterfly Grove and links to other hikes in the Santa Barbara area.

UPDATE February 23, 2014:
Monarchs, milkweed and the spirit of Rachel Carson. See this article in the Los Angeles Times about how pesticides are endangering the monarch butterflies.  Fewer butterflies have migrated to Mexico this year than ever before.
http://www.latimes.com/opinion/commentary/la-oe-nabhan-monarch-butterfly-extinction-20140223,0,7973387.story#axzz2uBU4ETM3

Marker showing paths from the grove across the mesa to the beach in Santa Barbara

CYMRU AM BYTH - Welcome to Wales, from the Memoir of Carolyn T. Arnold

Wales, Looking toward Glyn Dror, near Mold

Perhaps the original intrepid tourist was Carolyn Arnold, my husband’s aunt.  A single school teacher in Des Moines, she began traveling abroad when she was in her forties, beginning with a bicycling trip through Ireland in 1950.  She went on from there to spend a year as a Fulbright Exchange Teacher in Wales, to more trips to Europe and beyond, and eventually became a tour leader, taking all her nieces and nephews (including my husband Art) on her travels.  When she retired from teaching, she wrote of her experiences in a memoir called Up and Down and Around the World with Carrie.  Today, as I read of her travels, I marvel at her spirit of adventure at a time when women did not have the independence they do today.  The piece below, from her book, describes her arrival in Wales in the summer of 1953.

The fourth of July 1953 was one of the most eventful days of my life.  I received a telegram announcing that I had been offered a Fulbright exchange scholarship to teach in Wales for a year.  I was ecstatic!

I sailed in August on the Queen Mary for London.  Then, after a week of traveling in England and Scotland with other exchange teachers, I set off for Wales.  I took the train from Chester.  We had not gone far when the train stopped with a jerk.  We sat there for 20 minutes.  Then, with more heaving, we slowly began to move again.  Later, I learned about that hill.  The trains seldom made it without stopping to get up more steam.  It is no wonder the English think of Wales as the “hinterlands.”
The country of Wales is slightly larger than the state of New Jersey.  Two-thirds is covered by the grassy slopes and rich valleys of the Cambrian mountains.  Protected by the barrier-like mountains, the Celts remained isolated in Wales, thus retaining their own language and culture.

The Welsh language is the oldest living language in Europe.  The remoteness of the country enabled the Welsh to retain their own language, even though it was officially banned by the English in 1530.  A national awakening since the late 1800's has put new life and demand for the Welsh language.  Today, most grammar schools require the study of Welsh.  In “my” school, one course was offered to non-Welsh speaking students, another for those who speak some Welsh at home, and a third for those who are proficient in the language.

St. Mary's Church, Mold

To an outsider, Welsh is entirely unpronounceable.  During my year’s stay, I was unable to make any progress in learning to speak the language except for names of places.  I learned that a “w” had an “oo” sound as in “moon”. A “y” sounds like a short “i”; a double “dd” is pronounced as “th”, and a single “d” sounds like our “d”; an “f” becomes a “v” sound, and “a” is usually short as in “ah”.  The double “ll”, so frequent in the language, is unpronounceable, correctly at least, by an English speaking person.  I was told to place my tongue behind my front teeth and breathe out.  Try that without blowing a bubble!  Someone said to imagine air leaking from a tire with a lisping sound, and you have it! “Llan” simply means “church”.
In addition, Welsh names are long, but each usually has a meaning.  I lived near Bryn Coch Lane, meaning Red Hill Lane.  The longest name of a town has 53 letters: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwrndrobwllantysiliogogoch!  The full name is seldom used except to confuse strangers. (The postal name is Llanfair P.G.)  The name means, I am told, “The church of St. Mary in a Wood of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and near St. Tysillus’s cave close to a red cave.”  Many towns are called St. Mary’s so from time to time, other identifying phrases were added.

Entering Mold

My arrival in Mold, Wales, was inauspicious.  My friends at home laughed at the simple little name, but I was glad it was one I could pronounce.  The Welsh name for Mold is “Yr Wyddgrug”, but the simple one is commonly used.

SIERRA HIKE to KEARSARGE PASS, Guest Post by Marianne Wallace

Kearsarge Pass (elevation 11,760 feet)

My friend and fellow children's book writer/illustrator, Marianne Wallace, and her husband Gary backpacked in the Sierras recently and sent me this report with stunning photos of their trip:

One-night backpacking trip in mid-September--Kearsarge Pass, Onion Valley to Kearsarge Lakes:
The afternoon before the hike, my husband, Gary, and I drove about four hours from Los Angeles to Lone Pine, California, for a good night's sleep before a dawn start. You know you're staying at a hotel that caters to hikers when the hearty complimentary breakfast buffet opens at 5:00 AM (instead of 8:00 AM), early enough to eat and still be on the trail at dawn. (Hikers also stay in Lone Pine before climbing nearby Mt. Whitney.)

Kearsarge Trailhead at Sunrise

From Lone Pine, we drove about 20 minutes to the small town of Independence (elevation about 4,000 ft.) then drove into the mountains for about 13 miles to Onion Valley and the Kearsarge Pass trailhead (elevation about 9,200 ft.). The road to the trailhead is a curving, steep road with few guardrails but the view makes up for the scariness of the drive, especially when you arrive for sunrise over the Inyo Mountains.

There's a large parking area that services Onion Valley campground, the Eastern Sierra Pack Station and hikers heading up the trail. Pack Stations dot several high canyons of the Eastern Sierra but seeing the sign for the "oldest" was pretty cool. I wonder who they serviced back in 1872?

One of my least favorite things on a trail is the smell of horse and mule poop in the hot sun as I try to avoid stepping in it. But I love to see the animals in a pack train. (Do two animals constitute a "train?")

We were glad for our cool, early start because the trail was relentlessly uphill and the sun, pale rocks radiating heat, and general lack of shade made for a potentially brutal hike on a warm day. The trail itself was in great shape. It was comfortably wide and free of most roots and small rocks. Lots of switchbacks meant a very gradual climb, perfect for my slow pace.

Of the total 4.6 miles to Kearsarge Pass (descriptions of trail length vary from 4.2 to 5.5 miles), the first mile or so goes up the east-facing slope. So, on a clear day, your view of the distant mountains and Owens Valley below remain spectacular.

Flower Lake is one of a series of small lakes along the trail east of the Pass. The large rock is easily big enough for six people and a picnic. Maybe another time... You can still see the Inyo Mountains in the distance.



A noteworthy plus on this trail was the lack of trash. When you're hiking in Wilderness (we were in the John Muir Wilderness), few things spoil the experience quite like candy wrappers and plastic drink bottles. And there were no dogs. We wondered about this until we saw the sign at the Pass that forbids dogs past that point. A heads-up to all dog owners who want to hike over Kearsarge Pass.

Our first clear view of the Pass: it's just left of top center in the above photo where the smooth ridge edge meets the beginning of the rock outcroppings. The trail at this point was a narrow shelf on the side of a huge bowl. At the bottom of the bowl just this side of Kearsarge Pass is Pothole Lake which I did not photograph because I was tired and focused on finishing the last 10 minutes to the Pass.

At Kearsarge Pass with a view westward over the crest of the Sierra Nevada and into the Wilderness area of Kings Canyon National Park. On the extreme left (you can just see our son's hand pointing), are the three Kearsarge Lakes. About center is tiny Bullfrog Lake and then Charlotte Lake is in the right distance.

We were hiking at high elevation in mid-September, too late for most wildflowers. The exception was this charming fireweed relative. The flowers were about an inch across and it was growing alongside the trail within 100 yards of Kearsarge Pass.

Towering above the three Kearsarge Lakes are the Kearsarge Pinnacles. It's hard to see but there's another set of pinnacles directly behind these. Reminded me of Minas Morgul and the Mountains of Shadow around Mordor in the Lord of the Rings. We then descended one mile and about 1,000 feet to camp at Kearsarge Lakes.

We did a little rock hopping after dinner and crossed the lakes. The grasses at the edges were beautifully golden, even in the fading daylight and pending rain. We camped among the trees to the left. About four other small groups were camped in the area but we were far enough apart that it was like having the entire place to ourselves.
You can still see Kearsarge Pass albeit from the "other side." It's almost directly above the center of the large white rock in the foreground. And on the slope beneath the pass, where no plants are growing, you can just barely see the diagonal trail heading up, first left and then to the right.

In the morning the sun hit the pinnacles of rock and the water of the middle Kearsarge Lake was glassy smooth, reflecting the rocky wall on the far shore. After scraping ice off the inside of our tent (the low was about 36 degrees F), we packed up and headed out.

HERON ISLAND, a Jewel in Australia’s Great Barrier Reef

Heron Island lies fifty miles east of the city of Gladstone in Queensland.  Part of the island is the Heron Island Resort; the other houses a scientific research institute.

If you could choose to be stranded on a desert island, what would you look for?  A source of shelter?  A ready supply of food? The white-capped noddy tern, a sea-going bird that lives on Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, needs just such an island for nesting, and Heron Island fills the bill.  Hundreds of noddy terns breed on Heron Island, located almost exactly on the Tropic of Capricorn off the Queensland coast.

Brittle Star

Thirty years ago, in August 1983 (winter in the southern hemisphere) our family visited Heron Island and saw noddy terns, herons, and a host of other fascinating wildlife.  It is one of our most memorable vacations.  During our stay we walked the island and watched the birds, explored the reef at low tide, snorkeled at high tide, observed sea turtles and deep water fish from a glass bottomed boat, and enjoyed the amenities of the resort.  Art’s hundreds of photos from this trip inspired my book A Walk on the Great Barrier Reef.

Noddy Tern

Unlike most of the other small coral islands of the Great Barrier Reef, which are rocky and barren, Heron Island is covered with lush vegetation, including pandanus palms and pinsonia trees, which make ideal nest sites protected from the weather and predators. Huge flocks of noddy terns make virtual apartment houses out of the trees. Each pair of birds claims one horizontal branch where they build their nest with seaweed and leaves.

The Great Barrier Reef stretches for 1250 miles along the northeast coast of Australia.  It is an undersea wilderness of coral, colorful fish, and thousands of unusual sea creatures–some of which are poisonous, and all fascinating. At low tide, the top of the reef is revealed. To protect the reef and its wildlife, the Australian government declared it a national park in 1979.

Like other reef islands, Heron Island is surrounded by a large “reef flat” which extends nearly a quarter of a mile into the sea.  Fish and sea animals that live on and around the surrounding reef provide food for both migrating and nesting birds.Where the reef flat drops off, the water is about thirty feet deep, and there, from a boat or with diving gear, you can see large formations of coral and groups of colored fish.  But at low tide the water on the flat itself is only a few inches deep and in many places the coral rises above the water.  Wearing canvas shoes as protection against sharp pieces of coral, and carrying a stick for balance, we went out each day to discover the wonders of the reef for ourselves.

Giant clam embedded in brain coral

Despite its plant-like forms, coral is actually clusters of tiny animals that live inside hard calcium skeletons.  Live coral varies in color from purple, green and yellow to bright red.  When coral dies, it loses its color, revealing its brilliant white skeleton.
The ideal temperature for coral growth is 75-85 degrees Fahrenheit.  As the oceans grow warmer with climate change, many corals are dying and reefs are being destroyed.

The Great Barrier Reef is one of the most wondrous places on earth.  Our visit to Heron Island was a chance to spend a few days immersed in its beauty and richness.

CHICHEN ITZA: At the Heart of Mexico's Ancient Mayan World

Chichen Itza, El Castillo

The ancient city of Chichen Itza, with its towering pyramid, 13 ball courts, many temples, giant market, and numerous other buildings, is the most famous and best restored of the many Maya ruins in the Yucatan. Once a thriving religious and political center, Chichen Itza was abandoned in the 14th century.  On a trip to Mexico in July, I visited the ruins with my family. As we explored, we could only imagine what it was like in ancient Mayan times.

Chichen Itza, ruins of the observatory as seen from the Mayaland Hotel

We stayed at the historic Mayaland Hotel, surrounded by lush gardens and adjacent to the archeological site. From the window outside our room we viewed the back of the ancient observatory, which, after dark, was lit up with a beam of light, making a dramatic vista.  Shortly after we arrived that afternoon, even though it was raining lightly and it was the end of the day, we decided to visit the ruins. Inside the compound, we were almost completely alone except for a few vendors packing up their wares.  With the light rain and waning light it all felt rather ethereal.  We returned to the hotel for a light meal before going to a planetarium show called Mayan Skies–a useful introduction to Mayan history and culture and a glimpse into the incredible knowledge the Mayas had of astronomy.

Ancient gate to Chichen Itza

All the tourist books strongly advise visiting Chichen Itza early to avoid the crowds, so we set our alarm to be up for breakfast at 7:15 so we could go in when it opened at 8:00.  We arranged for a guide and were impressed by his dramatic telling the story of the Maya and the building of the city.  When we asked, he said his first language was Mayan, then Spanish and English.  He also spoke German and French.

Ceremonial structure at the top of El Castillo

Our guide emphasized several times the even though the pyramid is called El Castillo, the Spanish word for castle, it is NOT a castle but a ceremonial center.  He pointed out the importance of numbers in the structure, 91 steps up each of the four sides plus one large step at the top to make 365 representing one year. (In the past, tourists could climb to the top, but that is no longer allowed, partly for safety and partly to preserve the monument). In Mayan times, every 51 years an extra 13 days were inserted into the calendar and used for a celebration and to make up for the missing leap years.

Feathered serpent head at entry to ball court

On one side of the pyramid, huge serpent heads frame the first step and it appears that a large serpent is sliding down the sides of the stairway.  The building is designed so that on the spring and fall equinoxes, the shadows of the corner blocks ripple along the stairway edge making it appear as if the serpent is alive.  Everywhere in the complex we saw images of feathered serpents, jaguars, and harpy eagles.

Stone ring, ball court, Chichen Itza

We were particularly intrigued with the huge ball court where players had to hit the ball--with their hips, and also with a wooden bat--through large stone circles mounted on the walls of each side. We were told that ball courts of various sizes and designs have been found throughout Mexico and Central America and that rules varied–from games for fun to games where  the captain of the losing team was beheaded.  Some rather grisly stone murals of beheaded players lined the side of the ball court. Outside the ball court was a platform (filled with grass and iguanas sunning themselves) supported by a stone wall decorated with carvings of skulls.

Sacred Well, Chichen Itza

We proceeded with the guide to another ruin (which he characterized as the Pentagon of the Mayas) and to the rows of columns that had supported the roof for a large marketplace.  We had one last stop with our guide at the ruins of the observatory and then had time to wander on our own. We followed a long pathway lined with vendors to the cenote (a sinkhole filled with water) known as the Sacred Well. Wells and caves had a special significance in Mayan culture as entries into the underworld. The name Chichen Itza (pronounced with the emphasis on the last syllable) comes from three Mayan words meaning “the mouth of the well of the Itza”.  From the railing at the top, we watched birds with long blue tail feathers (turquoise-browed motmots) swooping over the water at the bottom.

Platform decorated with carvings of skulls

After several hours exploring the ruins the day had grown warm and tour buses had arrived.  It was time to leave.  We had gotten a taste of the incredible richness of Mayan culture.  It made us want to learn much more.
  
Note: In 2007 Chichen Itza was placed at the top of the list of the New 7 Wonders of the World, a poll of famous monuments initiated in the millennium.  Other monuments on the list are Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janiero, the Great Wall of China, Machu Picchu, Petra, the Taj Mahal, and the Colosseum in Rome–all worthy of anyone’s “bucket” list.

You can also read about our trip to the Yucatan in my 8/19/2013 post, Mexican Food in the Yucatan, and my 8/5/2013 post, Akumal, Mexico: Place of the Sea Turtles.