Travel Biography Photo Extravaganza - Part 48.

And so, the world turns...

One of the lessons learned when setting off on a foreign trip is that packed away in the documents bag are two travel ticket vouchers, the outgoing and the return. Every trip or vacation has an end, that moment when you insert the front door key into its lock to open the door that has remained shut for the past week, two weeks, a month, or several months. Here in the UK, as you open the door to let yourself in, the door pushes a pile of unopened mail, which lies there, slowly gathering dust.

In my case, the silence which hung in my apartment was deafening. But to keep any feelings of post-holiday blues to a manageable level, plans for the next Round-the-World solo backpacking trip are already formulated, with a future trip to London to collect my next Trailfinders magazine from the main branch of the agency in Kensington High Street.

And so, my empty rucksack packed away, I set off to resume work and settle down to a normal daily routine. Newly developed photos of New York and Boston were collected from the photo shop and compiled into an album. This was always a pleasant task following a vacation.

But a mile from my home, a family was stirring. One of the daughters wanted a reason to come and visit me in my apartment. One Sunday after the morning church service, Derek, along with his wife Barbara, invited Dan and me for lunch at their home. I didn't suspect anything other than a church family invite. At the table, Dan and Derek became locked in a conversation involving money, as Dan was a financial advisor, and Derek assisted Tim, our accountant. I sat quietly, wondering what this was all about. After the meal, Alex invited me to go out for a walk together.

At that stage, no idea of a relationship crossed my mind. Simply sensing that she wanted my company, I felt okay about accompanying her out for a walk while Dan and Derek stayed at home to discuss business. 

However, any thoughts of marriage were far from any of my desires. In the apartment block where I lived, shouting matches were clearly heard from the neighbours, particularly on Sunday afternoons. The apartment adjoining mine was occupied by an engaged couple who were lodging while the owner was away. Her angry words, wrapped in screams, echoed throughout the entire block. Nope, any idea of marriage was off the agenda!

However, one Sunday, Derek approached me and asked if I would accept a set of drinking goblets from him and delivered by Alex, his daughter. I said that would be okay. So that afternoon, Alex arrived with the glasses. I expected her to call for a few minutes, maybe an hour, but I was surprised by how long into the evening she stayed. During our conversation, I discouraged her from getting too close, as there was a 28-year age difference between us.

Indeed, she was upset by my decision, but she was determined. It wasn't long before she was back at my apartment. This time, after I weighed the possibility of a relationship, I was more accepting of it. Over the coming weeks and into 1999, our friendship began to blossom. One Sunday afternoon in spring, 1999, we both sat next to each other on the sofa. I have arrived at the crossroads. I had a Trailfinders magazine in my hands as I contemplated another Round-the-World backpacking trip patterned after the 1997 experience. I had to decide. A future career in backpacking? Or a covenant of marriage?

All this took place before the 9/11 World Trade Centre disaster in 2001; thus, international travel was as easy and unbureaucratic as buying a train ticket. Furthermore, we were a member nation of the European Union. That meant in 1991, when I arrived in Dover Harbour after a coastal cycle ride from Weymouth in Dorset, I approached a kiosk and bought a day return ferry ticket for Calais, and wheeled my bicycle onto the ship. 

So easy, wasn't it?

To Dover from Weymouth, 1991. I stopped at Swanage.

Since the 9/11 disaster, travel became a whole lot messier, with the USA introducing the ESTA document, a substitute for a US visa. Furthermore, Brexit, the UK leaving the European Union, has restricted movement, and tighter border security will soon be introduced, including the ETIAS registration, confirmation of where staying, proof of adequate funds, and the purpose of the visit. Whew!

Hence, since this was in 1999, two years before 9/11, I was faced with a tough choice when we sat on that sofa. After mulling over my feelings for her, I tore the magazine and binned it. While still sitting on the sofa, I popped the question. She said yes. My destiny has just taken a turn. The planned trip to South Africa, Australia, and perhaps California was never to be.

In the following months, we were engaged to be married. On our engagement day, which corresponded with Easter, Alex was baptised in the church's adult baptismal pool. The minister who baptised her was the same one who married us in October 1999.

On our wedding day, we then flew out to Rhodes, one of the Greek islands of the Dodecanese, for a two-week honeymoon. This was my first package holiday since Spain in 1972. What a difference the honeymoon was from the Spanish package, 27 years earlier! This time, there was no consumption of cheap Spanish wine, no drunkenness, no vomiting in the bathtub and sleeping the night in the hotel bathroom, no violence with other tourists, no feelings of being worthless and suffering from low self-esteem. In 1972, these were all the characteristics of a lost nineteen-year-old who tried to find his slot in life, and not succeeding well.

By contrast, our 1999 honeymoon in Rhodes was peaceful, romantic, alcohol-free, and fulfilling. It marked the start of a new life altogether, but my travel bug didn't die. The following year, to celebrate our first anniversary, we backpacked in Israel, staying in a marriage bedroom at a backpacker's hostel in the heart of Jerusalem's Old City.

During our pre-nuptials, I asked Alex about hostelling. She was adamant! No way would she spend a night in a ladies' dormitory! Although I was still willing to do some hostelling as a married man, that is, sleeping in a men's dormitory, she would have none of it.

This album was posted after receiving approval from my beloved. As this is a travel blog, all the photos featured here are scenic. Rather than lie on the beach day after day, my travel spirit surfaced, and Alex was to learn what it was like to be married to a backpacker. Even on a package holiday as this one, independent travel remained on the agenda. 

For example, together, we hiked the six-mile (10km) route from Lardos Bay, where we had our hotel, to Lindos, a medieval town northeast along the coast. However, we both agreed to bus back to the hotel in the evening. We also visited the island's capital, Rhodes, which was also Medieval-built.

This is the first of a two-part album. This week, we cover Lardos Bay, Lindos, and St Paul's Bay, which is more of a lagoon, almost totally enclosed from the open sea. Next week, we will visit Kalithea for a scuba dive and Rhodes City. Also note: both Alex and I will appear frequently in this album, as it's of a honeymoon, and when compiled, any idea of a public blogger was just a pipe dream.

Click here for the Index link for the main Biography, Week 121.

Our Wedding Photo

We just tied the knot for life!

Photos of our Honeymoon in Rhodes.

Lardos Bay Beach, our Honeymoon base.

Lardos Bay Hotel.

Poolside view.

Evening Beach scene, Lardos Bay.

Lardos Bay town.

This is Lindos, viewed from the Acropolis.

One of Lindos' Medieval Streets.

Donkeys offer rides from street level to the Acropolis.

Posing at the Medieval wall at the Acropolis.

Restored columns at the Acropolis.

Samson, perhaps? Hmm, perhaps not.

The columns overlook the inky-blue Mediterranean.

Lindos Bay viewed from the Acropolis.

These columns look to be new.

This nameless peninsula encloses Lindos Bay.

These are original.

Also original, the Exedra, a news podium.

Ancient carving of a ship, 2nd Century BC.

These walls were built by the Knights of St. John.

General view of the Acropolis

St Paul's Bay, viewed from the Acropolis.

We made our way to the bay, literally a lagoon.

The only entrance to St Paul's Bay.

We swam off these rocks rather than pay for a sunbed.

Another view of Lindos Bay.

Pallas Beach, within Lindos Bay.

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Next Week: the second half of this album visits Kalithea and Rhodes town.

Travel Biography Photo Extravaganza - Part 47.

Sailings to Provincetown in Cape Cod, and to Stellwagen Bank.

Backpacking and photography. Combine these two, along with time and affordability, flavoured with a dash of risk-taking, and one could launch a non-earning career in travel as a lone backpacker. This includes learning from my mistakes, which I should have avoided. For instance, I should have checked the dates of any national holidays before flying out to Israel in 2000 with my wife, then 18 weeks pregnant with our first daughter.

I have a hero in the world of travel. The BBC travel presenter Simon Reeve has circumvented the Earth at each of the three zones: the Equator, the Tropic of Cancer, and the Tropic of Capricorn. In addition, he has cut trails through virgin jungles, stayed at homes of remote tribes, driven through deserts, and interviewed politicians and gang leaders alike, even risking his own safety. He also dived into deep oceans and explored coral reefs, many in rich subaquatic beauty. Furthermore, unlike most, if not all, journalists, he never attended a fee-paying private school nor attended a university.

My form of travel was a little less dramatic. I used public transport to get around, and I hiked through established trails through forested and unforested national parks. Yes, I also snorkelled over coral reefs and enjoyed their beauty as Simon did. But I never stayed at the home of a remote jungle tribe resident, nor have I interviewed politicians, and certainly not gang leaders! 

But there has always been one big difference between Simon's travels and mine. He always had a crew with him, including a TV crew and a producer, the faceless individual who organised and directed Simon's travels. All of them remain invisible, giving the impression that Simon was travelling alone and organising his own schedules. Yet, I still admire his adventures and his knowledge of each local environment he passed through.

Simon Reeve. Stock.

By contrast, with one or two exceptions, all overseas travel was done on my own. There was no camera crew, no producer, no one to turn to had I hit disaster or fallen ill. Independent Travel carried an element of risk. But it was very educational, very fulfilling, and I admit, plenty of fun. And the fun was not so much sunbathing on a beach or riding on a rollercoaster as it was the adventurous spirit.

Yet, like Simon's travels, I, too, have hiked through the forest, explored the desert on foot (the Grand Canyon hike), and gazed at the corals beneath the sea. And I also checked out different cities.

You may think that all American cities are the same. The monotonous cluster of tall, glass skyscrapers huddled together on the horizon, with each street forming a tidy symmetrical grid, with ordinal numerology identifying each street instead of street names. Yet, as I have seen and experienced, each city has its own character. For example, Boston is very different to Manhattan in New York. Then there is San Diego, my favourite American city, which has a subtropical feel. Yet, Jerusalem in the Middle East is vastly different from any American or Western city, especially the walled Old City with its narrow, traffic-free streets known as souks, or markets.

Boston in Massachusetts holds the key to the whole American history. This city features 16 historic sites, including churches, historic buildings once housing government officials, and two cemeteries. There is also the world's oldest commissioned battleship, the USS Constitution. All of these sites are linked by the Freedom Trail, allowing the visitor to see all 16 sites in sequence. The harbour is home to the historic Boston Tea Party of 1773, sparking the American Revolution against the taxes paid to the British colony, which governed the area back then.

The State of Massachusetts has a geographic feature, the Cape Cod Peninsula, a strip of land jutting out into the Atlantic Ocean. From above, the peninsula resembles a human arm raised, shaking a fist as if angry at the UK for its past colonialism. The resort town of Provincetown is built on this clenched hand and partially encloses Cod Bay. Provincetown is accessible by road, a 112-mile (180km) journey along the whole length of the arm. However, there is also a ferry sailing from Boston Harbour to the port of Provincetown, a 50-mile (80 km) crossing across the bay. Indeed, with a choice between a ferry and a bus, I chose the ferry.

In 1998, Provincetown had no towering skyscrapers; instead, it was styled after a typical Old West settlement. Compared even to Boston, this resort was virtually traffic-free (although the main street was still open to traffic). The resort was once the venue for President John F. Kennedy, who spent his childhood vacation there, and then later as an adult.

On another day, I went to visit the Boston Aquarium. On offer was a double ticket; the first was for admission to the aquarium, where I spent a good part of the day. The second was for a sailing trip out to sea to watch humpback whales frolic in the Atlantic Ocean, over an area known as the Stellwagen Bank, a seamount or submarine rise on the seafloor which provides rich feeding for the whales. This boat excursion was organised by the Aquarium itself and was part of the whole day spent at the facility.

In this album, the ten whale watching pics may look rather monotonous, without any leaping out of the water like the dolphins did at SeaWorld in San Diego. These whales surface to breathe, and then dive back underwater. Hence, a very quick camera reaction was needed, as the individual appeared for less than a second. However, the whales got progressively closer to the boat as the hour elapsed, and there was a moment when it seemed that the boat itself would become a target for the whales to strike. But the Aquarium staff manning the boat knew better, and we sailed back to Boston Harbour safely while the sun began to set.

Unknown to me at the time, the sunset over the horizon symbolised the closing of a chapter in my life, solo overseas backpacking. The sun always sets towards the west, hence, the pics taken are of the sunset over the American continent, even as the Boston city skyline hadn't yet appeared over the horizon. 

As I see out the last days in Boston, I prepare to fly back home from Logan International Airport to London Gatwick. During daybreak following an overnight flight, as I sat by the window, the coast of southern England was in full view below a cloudless sky. Within view, the Dorset Coast displayed Weymouth, Durdle Door, Lulworth Cove, Durlston Head, Peveril Point, Swanage resort, Ballard Down with Old Harry Rocks, and the Bournemouth Bay, all on magnificent display way below, the light green landscape contrasting with the dark blue sea showing the sharply defined coastline. The plane then turned inland as it approached the airport.

Goodbye America. Little did I know that to this day in 2025, I hadn't landed there since.

Click here for the Index linking to the main Biography covering Boston, Weeks 113-116.

Photos of Provincetown, Cape Cod.

Approaching the ferry at Boston Harbour.

The crowd sunbathe on the ferry deck.

The city could just be made out in the distance.

We sail past Nantasket Beach.

Boats ply Cod Bay with the 'arm' in the background.

We approach Provincetown Harbour.

Provincetown Harbour has an industrial look.

Commercial Street, Provincetown.

I just strolled along the street.

To think that President J.F. Kennedy knew this town.

The Whalewatching trip to Stellwagen Bank.

The Aquarium-owned boat leaves Boston Harbour.

Snapping whales as they surface to breathe wasn't easy.

Whoops! I just caught the tail of this one, too.

There are two whales here.

By chatting with a crew member, I learned about this site.

Blowhole activity between two whales.

The whales seem to be getting closer to us.

I was also told that we came on a good day.

I was told of days when the whales failed to appear.

Apparently, I was the only one using a camera on board.

Wow! Don't get too near.

As the evening drew near, we sailed back to port.

The evening sunset ends a life chapter.

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Next Week, a new chapter begins. Travel as a honeymoon couple.