Since Covid rudely smacked The World down a size, my travel calendar has never been so bare. But travel is like riding a bicycle – you never forget its nuances. At least, it’s pretty to think so.
Arriving at my local airport, I see changes. Parking lots are empty. Of course, that could be because the greedy bastards have stopped issuing annual passes and now charge LA-sized daily parking fees. Truthfully, researching options, it’s actually cheaper parking long-term at LAX. Add hotel cost and cheaper flights, this alternative is something to look into for my next month-long trip.
If the grand entrance of Covid-19 in the early weeks of 2020 didn’t prove Robert Burns correct, that “the best laid schemes o’mice an’ men often go awry,” I don’t know what would. Covid would initiate the longest expanse of nontravel I have experienced in decades. Being socially responsible and just NOT wanting to let something like a virus take me, I have remained home. My Travel Calendar has never been this blank. My computer has taken a beating but my genealogy research has soared.
Creating podcasts came from my desire to decrease the weight of paper and guide books and increase my information and enjoyment while traveling. My first podcast, Poland, also came about because I was well aware that I would never be able to pronounce the names of streets nor ask directions because of my total ignorance of Polish.
Thursday – feeling surprisingly good for being dragged 50’ by a pack of huskies
We meet this morning at 9:30, just at the dawn of civil twilight. The southeastern sky is a palette of pinks, reds and golds. The terrain is white as far as I can see. Trees are sculpted and boughs laden with snow. The road is one white path edged by tall berms. Snowy white ptarmigan blend into their equally white environment. The occasional group of reindeer dig in the drifts for food or wander across the road appearing very unconcerned about automobiles.
Visiting Lapland in winter, I have come to understand why Santa lives here. There is a stark beauty in this all-white landscape, brilliant starry skies, and moving waves of Aurora color.
I remember in the early 1950s on a clear and extremely lucky night in Northern Indiana, the skies were actually unpolluted enough to see slight colorings of the Aurora Borealis. Sometimes, faint colorations of the Aurora can be sighted in Northern Minnesota. As Agent Fox Mulder knows, the Aurora is out there somewhere. This week, I am in Lapland in search of those colorful curtains of dancing light.
There are exotic destinations haunting the lists of traveler’s dreams: Antarctic, Africa, Panama Canal, Galapagos Islands, Easter Island. Another list topper is Lapland.
Lapland is associated with Father Christmas, a close relative of Santa Clause who I hear runs a sweatshop in North Pole, Alaska. His winter home after the busy season is in Santa Claus Beach just south of Santa Barbara, California. (more…)
