Creepy Crawlies 2: The Lovely

In my last post about multi-legged critters, I covered some of the scarier bugs I’ve encountered on my travels. This time around, I almost hesitate to use the term “creepy crawlies” because, to me, most butterflies, moths, and caterpillars are beautiful and not at all frightening. However, I realize that’s not the case for everyone.

A couple of years ago, I posted a photo of myself with a large cecropia moth clinging to my fingers. I was so thrilled to see this amazing insect up close, but someone commented “I’m terrified and you’re showing it off!!!” I don’t think she would have been too happy about another moth-related incident that happened during that trip.

We were staying in a nature retreat on a jungle-covered mountainside in Ecuador. On our first evening, we returned to our cabin after dark (the sun sets early that close to the equator). The kind manager had stopped by our cabin and helpfully switched on the light over our door so that we could find our cabin easily. Unfortunately, the light had attracted a cloud of moths and the door was covered with them. We had the good sense not to open the door immediately (it opened inward) or they would have all been inside the room. We turned the light off and tried to shoo away as many as possible, but we still had a dozen or so that flew in. Mark caught some and put them outside, but he couldn’t get them all. I spent that night dreaming of moths and woke up many times when a pair of fuzzy wings blundered into my face. (Apologies to the moth-phobic; they have probably run screaming out of the room by now.)

Moths, I suppose, are associated with nighttime, darkness, and mystery, whereas butterflies are more often classed with sunshine, flowers, light, and beauty. I’ve seen a field full of butterflies with transparent wings, such that you could see right through to the body and opposing wings.

I’ve chased the stunning blue morphos across fields and forests in Central and South America, trying to capture its beauty in a photograph. This large butterfly, although not rare and certainly conspicuous, is maddening due to its habit of floating around but never alighting for more than a nanosecond. I would follow it forever, waiting for it to rest with those iridescent lapis lazuli wings outstretched. It would land; I would tiptoe up, focus, and—gone. I finally snapped one in Mexico, but, of course, my mediocre photo doesn’t come close to the reality.

Blue morphos butterfly

Yes, sunshine, flowers, light. Oh, and did I mention mud? It’s a curious fact that these glowing creatures that flit along on the breeze are often found on patches of mud. I would guess that they are seeking moisture? Or maybe just cooling down? But Google turns up this interesting tidbit: “Like other animals, butterflies need salt and minerals in their diets. By sucking up puddle water, butterflies are able to accumulate salt and minerals in their hind gut while passing the water out their anus. This process is called ‘puddling’.” Who knew?

I’ve observed this behaviour in many locations, but most strikingly along the Napo River in Ecuador, where I spotted a gathering of butterflies whose wings were outlined in white, making them appear as if they were cut out of paper.

Before any of these critters were lovelies, they all started out as caterpillars, some of quite bizarre appearance. One can easily understand the concept of camouflage, trying to blend in with surroundings in order to avoid being eaten. But the marching line of neon-green-saddled caterpillars that I spotted on a forest path in Panama seemed to be doing anything but avoiding notice. The dark spot surrounded in white in the centre of the “saddle” pretty well shouted “target,” while the spiky protuberances covering the rest of the body warned “hands off!” Luckily, we took its advice and didn’t touch, as I found out later these oddballs are quite venomous, delivering a sting similar to a bee’s.

Outside a lodge on the eastern slopes of the Ecuadorian Andes, I walked past a ball of white fluff on the path, assuming it was a seed pod from a tree. Then I did a double-take, realizing I hadn’t seen any other similar puffy balls anywhere else in the vicinity (trees, when they drop seeds or leaves or whatever, tend to do it in multiples, not singles). At closer look, I discovered a fuzzy white caterpillar with long black “twigs” sprouting from its back. Was it attempting to disguise itself as something inedible, a fungus perhaps? Impossible to know.

Fantastical or fancy, moths, butterflies, and caterpillars are always fascinating and I look forward to photographing more on future travels.

Do butterflies, moths, and caterpillars inspire Ooooo! or Ewwww! from you? Let me know in a comment.

The surprising underside of a blue morphos

France’s Loire Valley in Winter

Chateau de Chenonceau in the Loire Valley in February

France is one of the most popular destinations in the world. Which means that its beautiful places are overrun with tourists much of the year. The Loire Valley, with dozens of historic chateaux, fortresses, villages, and foodie delights like vineyards and farmgate sources, not to mention beautiful natural spaces, is no exception. When we visited in late January and February, we could tell by the acres of parking stalls that the larger sites are braced to receive hordes in spring, summer, and fall.

But in winter, those parking lots were nearly empty. We strolled through any site that interested us on a given day–no need to buy tickets in advance or line up. Once inside, it made no difference what the weather was doing outside. If it was a bit chilly, it made us appreciate more the challenges the original inhabitants faced in keeping warm. One of the chateaux had big wood fires burning in the huge fireplaces, which added to the historic ambience and put a lovely hint of woodsmoke in the air.

Beyond the chateaux, those charming medieval or Georgian streets are still there for your enjoyment, although you might need to bundle up for your stroll and sit inside the cafe or patisserie rather than on the patio (some restaurants do have a heated area outdoors). Cafe au lait or chocolat chaud is especially pleasant on a chilly day and you can savour the French food without guilt, knowing that you’re burning off extra calories when you walk in the brisk weather. And speaking of food, even the tiny gastronomic restaurants have space for last-minute dinner guests and the local farmers’ markets run right through the cold months.

The cooler temperatures and lack of crowds made the whole experience of visiting a site less tiring. I hate it when vacationing becomes an endurance test, i.e., I’ve paid 15 Euros to get in here, I have to stay X number of hours and see the whole bl**dy thing to get my money’s worth, even though I’m overheated, exhausted, and my feet are numb. This scenario is far less likely in the winter.

Whether you’re driving around or taking public transit, everything will be quieter. Parking in the villages will be easy. Churches and cathedrals remain open year-round and you will often have them to yourself on weekdays if you, like me, just like to sit in the pews and drink in the magnificent surroundings.

A few things to keep in mind if visiting in the winter:

  • Some sites are closed, especially in the second and third week of January when apparently many tourist-focused businesses shut so that employees can vacation after the busy Christmas season. Those that are open may have reduced hours.
  • Some amenities are unavailable, such as guided tours or onsite restaurants.
  • If a site’s gardens are a primary attraction for you, this is not the time to visit. The gardens will be immaculately maintained and pleasant to stroll, weather permitting, but trees will be bare and few, if any, flowers out.
  • Yes, it rains. And it’s windy sometimes. The temperatures are much like in the BC Lower Mainland, mostly hovering above zero. I believe that in the four weeks we were there, we had a couple of frosty nights. But we also had gorgeous sunny days with clear blue skies, as you’ll see in the photos.
  • The banks of the Loire (and other local rivers) are frequently flooded in winter. As many of the beautiful walks in the area run along the river shores, some were too wet or muddy to use. However, we never had any diffculty finding somewhere near the river to perambulate, if that’s what we desired.

Valladolid on Parade

Colourful ladies parading along the colonial streets of Valladolid. Photo by Marian Buechert.

Revolution Day is when Mexicans celebrate the beginning of their revolution in 1910, and in the city of Valladolid, the occasion is marked by a popular parade through the colonial streets. Valladolid has a particularly close connection with the start of the Mexican Revolution, as described in this Yucatan Today article:

“On June 4…the insurrection began which attacked the town of Valladolid, Yucatán. The insurgents’ army was made up of laborers from the neighboring haciendas….The federal government retaliated by sending a battalion of 600 soldiers….After three assaults by the federal troops, dozens of bodies of the revolutionaries and soldiers remained scattered through the streets of Valladolid, in the first tragic episode of what would…become the beginning of a new era for Mexico.”

Since we were in the area close to the date and I was eager to see the celebration, we duly strolled out from our hotel in the cool early morning to take up a position along the route. We were pretty well the only non-locals in attendance. The parade was not well publicized to outsiders and even our helpful hotel manager downplayed it as “just a local event.” “Mainly school kids,” he said.

Perfect, I thought. There’s nothing more fun to watch than young folks on show. Whether they react to the spotlight with eye-rolling  and goofiness or a serious sense of responsibility, it all makes for good entertainment.

I wasn’t disappointed. The ages of the youngsters ranged from primary school to university, and they included tumblers, dancers, musicians, rope twirlers, and flag wavers, as well as many, many lovely girls done up in regional costumes with artfully crafted hair and make-up, who looked hot and stressed until they saw my camera and then broke into radiant smiles as they posed. I found the children dressed up as revolutionary heroes particularly hilarious and poignant, with their gigantic fake moustaches falling off and their toy guns clutched to their chests.

The last hour of the parade consisted solely of hundreds upon hundreds of medical students from various disciplines—presumably from a local specialized post-secondary institution—marching in perfect step. I wondered how Canadian student doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, paramedics, dentists, hygienists, etc would respond if they were asked to turn up for marching practice just to prepare for a holiday parade. Somehow, I don’t think it would fly.

As I watched them troop past in their work garb, it occurred to me that possibly many of them were the first in their families to achieve post-secondary status and that there were likely a lot of proud parents in the crowd overjoyed to see their son or daughter with such a secure and prestigious future assured. Maybe that was the point of them marching: they represent the hope of the community as it moves forward into a high-tech, white-collar world.

There was a small military presence, with a guard marching before and after the main parade and a few military vehicles on display, but their best contribution consisted of army athletes demonstrating various sports, including jumping through hoops. Strange but interesting.

My only disappointment was the lack of horses. I waited through the entire three hours, saying “There has to be horses! How can you have a parade without horses?!” Sadly, the horses—only about six of them—came at the very end, just before the final military escort. I thought it was a striking difference between this Mexican event and the equine parade we attended in Costa Rica a few years ago (see “Heaven for Horse Lovers”), where they featured nothing but hundreds of horses for four hours.

On the up side, we once again experienced the unexpected kindness of strangers when we were standing streetside waiting for the parade. Many of the residents had come out from their homes to watch (the parade, not us), bringing chairs with them so they could settle in for the long haul. One lady saw us standing and went back inside for two more chairs to offer to us. Gracias, señora, for your very thoughtful and friendly act.

 

 

 

 

Kakadu National Park, Australia

Cattle egrets fly over a billabong in Kakadu.

“You’re going to the North? What for? There’s nothing there but crocs and stinking heat.”

This was the encouraging conversation I had with someone from Queensland, Australia, when I mentioned that our next destination was the Northern Territory. Given that Queensland itself has no shortage of either crocs or heat, his opinion of the north was worth noting.

The answer to his question was simple, however: Kakadu. The park had been on my bucket list since we watched Kakadu: Australia’s Ancient Wilderness, part of the PBS series “The Living Edens.”

Recognized as a World Heritage Site for both its natural environment and its cultural significance (thanks to over 20,000 years of Aboriginal occupation), it’s one of those places that you don’t get to by accident. You’re not toodling along a pleasant country lane when you notice a sign “This way to Kakadu” and you decide on the spur of the moment—because you have nothing to do between lunch and teatime—to pop in for a bit of a look-see.

From the west coast of North America, we flew 17-plus hours to Cairns (in Queensland) and then a further 2.5 hours to Darwin, the closest town. We then drove 3 hours to get to the centre of the park, the little village of Jabiru, where we rented a tiny cabin for four days.

Yes, it was stinking hot. And yes, we saw lots of crocs. But we also saw thousands of birds, remote and unforgiving landscapes, peaceful billabongs, and awe-inspiring rock paintings.

Kakadu isn’t always this dry and dusty; we visited in August, probably the driest part of the year.

The magpie geese are plentiful and happy after a season of good eating.

 

Little corella in Jabiru town.

Sunrise on the Yellow River cruise.

Nanking heron hiding along the Yellow River.

White-bellied sea eagle enjoying her breakfast along the Yellow River.

Gum tree.

Great egret spear-fishing.

Big croc on the Yellow River.

Rainbow bee eater.

Billabong. Yes, as in: “Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong….”

Forest kingfisher.

Aboriginal rock art.

Rock painting of Tasmanian wolf.

Red-collared lorikeet

Loved this Wicked Campers Beatles tribute spotted in a Kakadu parking lot.

Nova Scotia Snapshot

Okay, let’s just get the quintessential Peggy’s Cove lighthouse shot done and dusted straight away, shall we?

This blog features my 25 favourite photos from a trip to Nova Scotia in September, 2016. This is not an attempt to represent the entire trip or the entire province in a few shots, just a selection of what I felt were the most interesting, photographically.

My grateful acknowledgement goes out to Geordie at Picture Perfect Tours for sharing some of the more interesting and out-of-the-way locations during our full-day tour with him.

A is for Apsaras

The following is a whimsical summary of my recent trip to Thailand and Cambodia, in the form of rhyming couplets and photos. Any groans elicited at improbable rhymes or tortured scansion are purely intentional.

A is for apsaras carved in the rock

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

B for buffet where we ate lots of choc

 

 

 

 

 

 

C is for clown fish we saw in the sea

 

 

 

 

 

 

D is for dog, her name is Mutley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

E is for eagle with imperial eye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

F is for food we loved, especially Pad Thai!

 

 

 

 

 

 

G is for guards (we saw quite a few)

 

 

 

 

 

 

H is hotel rooms with fabulous views

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I is for idols in black and white stripes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

J is for journeys on boats of all types

 

 

 

 

 

 

K is for kohn dancers covered with jewels

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

L is for lounge chairs close by the pool

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

M is the mist on Cambodian fields

 

 

 

 

 

 

N is for nightfall with sunset revealed

 

 

 

 

 

 

O is for owls with gazes serene

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

P is for pitta—the first one we’ve seen!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Q is for quiet walks down on the beach

 

 

 

 

 

 

R is for tree roots that ancient walls breach

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

S is for stupas, gleaming and gold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T is for temples with faces so old

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

U is for up, where we see hornbills pass

 

 

 

 

 

 

V is for village with walls made of grass

 

 

 

 

 

 

W for waters with colour sublime

 

 

 

 

 

 

X is xpensive but worth every dime

 

 

 

 

 

 

Y is for yawning in elephant style

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zzzz is for sleeping while earning air miles