Nepenthe at Big Sur

Seems so long ago and far away now.

But here are a few promised photos of 

one of our stops in Big Sur. 

The lovely Nepenthe

where we had lunch overlooking the California coastline...

...and its spectacular views. 

Open since 1949,

it's basic pub fare

with a sweet interior

even a fireplace in the middle of the room

(surrounded by windows)

for those foggy, cool coast days. 

Since it's always busy

they have plenty to keep you occupied outdoors 

while you wait, 

including a chess square and ping pong table

so you can play while waiting for a table

and tiered stone seats covered with colorful pillows

for basking in the sun with something from the bar. 

The definition of Nepenthe:

"A drug described in Homer's Odyssey 

as banishing grief or trouble from a person's mind." 

"A fictional medicine for sorrow."

"A drug of forgetfulness."

Um... I'd say so! 

My photos don't do justice to the breathtaking views. 

Click the link below to see the website's photos. 

And stop in for a little medicine for your sorrow. 

******

Nepenthe

Open Daily 11:30am-10pm

831.667.2345

Jonesing (and Prayers) for Greece

I've been having some serious hankerings...

And they don't just come as small wisps or threads of a daydream.

They come hard.

And transport me...

as if Scotty just beamed every molecule of me 

from where I am to where I want to be. 

I can be in the middle of my day

and suddenly I am there, here on my favorite walk in Nafplion.

I can smell the dry wild herbs on the warm air

and taste the tzatzkiki of any restaurant in town. 

I'm walking along the alleyways of the Old Town

or perusing books in the Odyssey Gift Shop on the square. 

This walk is one of our favorites. 

The water is never-ending along one side

and on the other, a steep wall of chalky, orange-streaked cliffs

with the occasional wild tuft of bright magenta bougainvillea. 

I know it's been too long since I've been there

 when I find myself transported several times a day

...all week long. 

Hoping for a quick trip before the holidays begin

but it hinges on so many other things coming together in just the right way:

jobs, the health of loved ones, perfect timing.

I just keep picturing all the things I love and miss

and myself walking among them! 

For more pics of this and another favorite walk,

Click Here.

Both the Northern and Southern Peloponnese have been suffering from 

severe flash floods this past week

all the way from Thessaloniki to Sparta and now Kalamata and Lakonia.

Haven't heard anything about our little town

but the weather report for Nafplion 

was calling for thunderstorms this last weekend. 

Hoping our roof fix holds up! 

Prayers for the souls who have lost their lives this week 

and for those dealing with the aftermath and possibly more to come. 

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Florence Annunciation

While traveling awhile back,

I collected Annunciations for a client and friend who loved them.

And somewhere along my path of collecting them around Europe,

they have become my favorite as well. 

In keeping with our theme of Italy

for the setting of my novel,

this one is in Florence, Italy.

I love the cornucopia surrounding the scene

and the colorful wings of the angel Gabriel. 

He is often depicted holding the Madonna Lily

(Lilium Candidum)

which is thought to be the basis of the Fleur de Lis

as well as the symbol for Florence.

How fitting! 

I also love that in this depiction,

the Madonna is not putting her hand up

as she is in so many.

Often to me it looks like she is saying "Oh no, I couldn't possibly!"
or "Forget it, do you have any idea what that means?" 

In this one, it looks almost as if her hand is over her heart.

A Greek friend of ours,

who survived a very deadly form of cancer,

looks at every single day as a gift.

And when I see these depictions,

it reminds me to see every day as a gift from God and the universe

,,, for all of us. 

How will we use it?!  

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Baptistry Mosaics

As promised,

here are photos of the interior of 

the octagonal Baptistry in Florence from last week.

Oh to be in Florence again! 

I know of an author who rents herself an apartment 

in whichever country she happens to be setting her next novel

and then spends that month writing there. 

One of my future goals! 

And actually, that's why I'm posting photos of Florence,

because part of my novel is set there

and this way we can feel like we're there. 

I love that most of these photos and mosaics

depict angels in them. 

The scene below, of course, needs no explanation.

Can you imagine being responsible for putting all of these tiny mosaics in place?! 

I'm setting up a schedule 

to try to get my novel ready for Beta Readers this summer.

I'm NOT a puzzle person

but writing a novel feels a little like trying to place all the mosaics

in all the right places,
fitting all the correct colors with the right scenes
but without too much rigidity
and more than a splash of imagination.
There's a structured whole yet with individual chapters and scenes
which must have their own flavor and color,
textures and tapestries.

And I'm teaching myself novel writing as I go

so I especially appreciate this last mosaic

of an angel bringing information

during sleep. 

I'm working on the last little bits

of trying to make this book puzzle work

and will take all the help I can get. 

(All Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Bronze doors of the Baptistry in Florence

So while my novel put me in Florence

thought I'd share a couple of exterior photos of the Baptistry. 

The above are the North Doors

created by Lorenzo Ghiberti.

These were originally the East Doors but moved to the North side.

Ghiberti was 21 when he won the competition 

(beating out Brunelleschi!)

and began the commission of the gilded bronze doors

which took him 21 years to finish. 

The first two are the Annunciation (always my favorite)

and the Nativity. 

The doors to the Baptistry are what Michelangelo called

The Gates of Paradise. 

Dante and the members of the Medici family,

as well as most Catholic Florentines,

were baptized in the Baptistry of St. John,

--an octagonal basilica in the Piazza del Duomo 

just next to the main Florence Cathedral--

and was built between 1059 and 1128.

Buried within the quatrefoil,

Ghiberti included plants and insects known to be harmful.

In Medieval thinking,

that was a way of keeping evil away.

Next time a few photos of the 

gorgeous mosaics that make up the ceiling of the interior.

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

(Info via Wiki)

Ponte Vecchio sunset

Recently I spent a week at my writing retreat on the Oregon Coast

and immersed myself in novel writing

... which put me in Italy. 

So as promised,

here is a bridge view in Florence.

My novel's love interests end up at a villa

overlooking one of my favorite cities in Italy

while they try to save civilization 

from foreign and domestic terrorism. 

Btw, I LOVE how these old bridges

still have shops ON them.

And in medieval times,

people actually lived in houses on the bridge. 

Oh, Florence!

Be still my heart.

(Here's another shot in Florence
from awhile back.)

Next week, Venice!

Ciao.

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Evangelistria Monastiraki

(Palamidi)

The big white monastery on the hill next to Palamidi, the Venetian fortress keeping guard over Nafplion, always seems to glisten in the sun from anywhere in town. Maybe it's the mosaics of biblical scenes catching the light that greet you from either side of the front door. Standing in the large front courtyard, one could be distracted here for an hour before ever going inside, held by the stunning views over the red-tiled rooftops of the Old and New Towns, out to the bay and beyond.

If possible, the view becomes even more picturesque by the small bell tower perched on the edge of the parking lot between the church and its precipice. The details of the church interior itself, beyond the mosaics and the front door, are a lost memory to me. It's most likely hiding in one of the trillions of unmarked boxes of similar lost memories in that ludicrously large and ever-growing warehouse in my mind which somewhere holds the true chronology of my fragmented childhood and the exact shade of my grandmother's eyes.

(Evangelistria)

What holds firm in my mind is the long, narrow room next to the chapel's entrance, an open door at one end inviting you in... if you're not afraid of flickering darkness. Built against the rock, the back wall is a series of natural boulders. You realize as you enter that it's not truly dark but lit by candles lovingly placed along the stone ledges covered with countless icons of the beloved Mary and her son. The candlelight bestows magic on them...or is that just their own magical quality that enthralls much of our planet?

St. George is here also, ever-slaying the formidable dragon as in every church and altar across modern Greece. I've visited this stone altar several times and each time with the same sense of awe. Maybe it's the natural stone contours that slope down into the long narrow chamber. Maybe it's the care and prayer with which the "room" glows with candles lit by loving hands and those icons of Mary and Jesus standing upright along the boulder's craggy dips and ledges.

                            (Mosaics)

That awed feeling is reproduced from anywhere I can see the monastery in town, from where we sit eating lunch in the New Town's "Take Out Chicken Place", so called by us because the sign is all in Greek leaving us no idea how to describe it when recommending or trying to decide on a lunch venue. That feeling is reproduced as I sit in warm sunshine at its sidewalk tables in front of one of the New Town's three busiest roadways. I can see the monastery looking across the street and over the top of a massive skeleton of a bare-bones building never finished, these which endlessly dot modern Greece's urban and rural landscapes alike. Up the hill to the white monastiraki, the flickering dark-light altar haunts me...even while I consume roasted chicken and potato rounds layered in devilishly-creamy lemon gravy, Ed's favorite sweet cabbage salad, wilted wild greens picked by Greek women and my favorite Greek salad with tzatziki... all washed down with a crisp, tender white wine of the region. The magic of that altar beams at me from the mosaics glinting in the sun... which spills into the food on my plate... which spills into me... which infiltrates my thoughts. That magic makes my very cells seem to shimmer with the beauty of it. Or is that the wine?

I watch the monastiraki for as long as I can see it on our walk home. We dodge the New Town's typical Greek traffic which has very few rules beyond the main rule of "Me First". As we walk, we contemplate an after-lunch nap...Or a walk around the bottom of  akronafplia from one end of the Old Town to the other...Or a trip to our favorite bakery for the dark-brown bread sticks rolled in sunflower seeds which we'll have for dinner later with a piece of fruit after our decadent (and huge) lunch...Or a drive out to the tiny white and blue church along the water's cliff side. Here, past Evangelistria and beyond the big beach a few miles outside of town, down a short trail past the parking lot and in another dark chapel overlooking the sea, St. George is again saving the day. I don't have to be afraid of flickering dark-light...because I know that at every such altar, St. George will be there.

(Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

New cafe at Arvanitia Beach in Nafplion

Trying to get back to working on some new Greece articles

for my critique group. 

So thought going through some photos would help. 

Plus I miss it so. 

The above is the view from one of our favorite walks in Nafplion

with the beach just out of view on the right.

This summer we were only there for a mere few days

(in between Provence and Paris)

and being there in June rather than December 

was magnificently heavenly. 

The Chef's vacation usually comes in winter

when things are quiet on his job sites.

But this year, we got some time during the gorgeous early summer weather. 

Normally this little beach is a quiet place where many of 

the locals come daily for a swim in the morning before the winds pick up

and to catch up on the local gossip. 

This June a new cafe opened at the beach

and with it...what looked like Club Med! 

We've never seen it looking so alive

and filled with beautiful touches.

You could literally park yourself on a lounge chair

for the price of an iced tea (or ouzo)

and stay all day. 

For those few days,

we started and ended each day there.

I even swam in the water for the first time

(the last time I tried, a baby squid chased me around 

until I finally ran out of the water and gave up.) 

And just above the beach, our favorite walk. 

Did I mention I so miss this?

Hope to get back when the new cafe is still open for high season.

And park ourselves on the beach with a good book, sunscreen,

some writing material...

and dips in the Mediterranean. 

(All photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Old Village of Monteux in Provence

(Porte d'Avignon)

Along the D942  about 20 km northeast of Avignon in Provence

and 5 km from Carpentras,

lies the medieval Old Village of Monteux.

One enters through this ancient doorway,

 the old Avignon Porte  along fortified ramparts 

which was the original entry to the village.

Next to the porte sits this sweet 'dolphin' fountain. 

On my way back to Blauvac in Provence from Mary Magdalene's cave this summer,

but not quite yet ready for my adventure to end,

I stopped in this little town to explore

and found the most exquisite village

of painted canvas on old buildings.

I parked near the porte,

walked through 

and got lost in this surprise maze of medieval streets. 

And here are just a few of what greeted me! 

Basket weaver. 

Everyone wanted to get in on the charming paintings and flowers. 

Barrel maker and repairer.

Tailor.

A very Provencal scene. 

Cabinet maker.

Bibliotheque. 

What a delightful surprise this little medieval village turned out to be! 

Something niggled at me each time I drove past the exit sign for Monteux 

on my way to Avignon or Aix-en-Provence,

telling me to take a look. 

I finally had the time, being on my own

and not on a schedule 

(usually of sightseeing with a group 

or picking someone up at the Avignon train station)

and I listened to that little nudge. 

Sometimes beauty and magic happen when we listen and respond. 

*********

I was away at my writing retreat on the northern Oregon Coast this past week

working on my novel

and for those who are interested,

I've also been working on the post about my trip to MM's cave. 

But for now, enjoy these photos from Provence.

And thanks for coming on this little side-trip to Monteux with me!

(All Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)