The end of the beginning. The last post for Route Sixty Six here on Santa Monica Pier. We spent the afternoon bicycling from Chris Moore's house to the Pier. It was a picture postcard perfect day. A fitting end to a great adventure.

Not quite my last posting from Mexico. We are now at Cancun Airport waiting to connect to Mexico City. The picture is us cheezily posing in front of some Tulum ruins. Our last day in Playa del Carmen was lovely. The water is blood warm and the sand is fine. We had a last dinner on the beach with our toes in the sand as we listened to reggae music and drank some Spanish wine. All too soon we will be back in reality. Reality has arrived sooner than expected. Plane delayed due to rain.

Pretty cool animals in XeHel And we didn't kiss either of them.

Maybe my last post from Mexico. Very dodgy email and computer is dying due to very dodgy power supply here in Playa de Carmen. Having a wonderful time in a sweat drenched, manic sort of way.
Yesterday took 12 hour tour to Tulum - Mayan ruins run by company who have stitched up the theme park business very nicely. XelHa is the name of the massive fun park but they seem to have some sort of ownership of the ruins.
We did see the ruins - and very nice they were too but most of the day was spent inside XelHa where you could do everything from kissing dugongs, swimming with dolphins, snorkelling, walking underwater with a funny helmet on your head and eating and drinking as much as you wanted.
We disgraced ourselves very early in the peace by going the wrong way from the ruins back to the tour bus. We had to catch a taxi back to find the whole party fuming.
Today we have swum, sweated, shopped, sweated, bought crazy ceramics, sweated and so it will go on. Tomorrow we catch the bus to Cancun and then fly to Mexico City and then to L.A where we will see Tom's nephew Chris and his family and then Joe, Aliza,Tessa and Lucca.

The maid who cleans our room obviously loves us or she is a frustrated artist. She left us this folded towel rabbit as a small surprise. Our last day in Merida has been wonderful but tiring. I don't know if it's the constant sun, the constant stimulation or just getting tired at the end of a long trip but we have to drag our protesting bodies to the next wonderful surprise. We ducked into the oldest Cathedral in the Americas which the Spaniards built after they razed the Mayan temples to get the stone to build it. We walked to the Museum of Anthropology, then to the Museum of Modern Art.

This was one of the sculptures that intrigued me. I don't now if it is a metaphor for life. Take my hand 

little chicken foot, we are are strangers in Paradise. After the Museum on to the Sunday markets where we bargained furiously for a hammock and then a brief respite to munch on a hot pork bun accompanied by a Coca Cola. Total cost for lunch $4.50. Life is good.

And I haven't even mentioned the music, singing and dancing. They close off all the streets on Sunday and people enjoy bicycling, walking and dancing.

Well here we are in the land of human sacrifice, cold beer, spicy salsa, tortillas, music and blazingly hot sun.
We have climbed the pyramids at Chitchen Itza, Uxmal and Kabah with every part of our bodies drenched in sweat. What a blood thirsty people these Mayans were - constantly leaping about ripping each other's hearts out and offering them up to the gods. Luckily today's Mexican are a much gentler lot. Merida is a lovely old Spanish town created by another blood thirsty lot - the Spanish. Maybe the human race is getting better.

It's been a long day's night.....this is quite freaky this international travel. Left Charlevoix at 6.30 am, arrived at Traverse City Airport an hour later and had a muffin for breakfast. Had a most unusual body scan at Security. I had to stand as though I was on a crucifix while some secret laser searched through my clothes to see if I was carrying weapons of mass destruction. Happily I wasn't or I wouldn't be here tapping away in Houston.
It's a bit T.S Eliot here, counting out my life in teaspoons. The flight to Chicago was quick but then there was the three and a half wait. I filled this by running around madly confirming our Chichen Itza trip for tomorrow. It took an hour with countless wrong phone numbers and then engaged numbers but finally I got through only to have the whole conversation take place in no man's language. I spoke no Spanish and the receptionist spoke no English. But I managed to confirm that we would be picked up tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. Or I think I did. Maybe I ordered nine clocks. We'll find out tomorrow.
The flight to Houston was seamless and here we have a four hour wait. We are planning for the maximum excitement. Tom is window shopping. When he gets back I will window shop. If we can while away the next hour, then we can have a leisurely meal.
The flight to Merida is about three hours. If all goes well we will get to our hotel about ten o'clock tonight. What exciting jet setters we are. Oh by the way, we gained an extra hour crossing into a new time zone so we are having an even longer day than usual.

As we are about to leave the weather has turned absolutely perfect. Stunning sunsets, crisp evenings and hot days. We have one last day to cram in the delights of Charlevoix. Tennis, a swim and  boat ride are on the agenda. We also have cocktails with two separate parties tonight!
I feel very excited about this next leg of our journey. I am really looking forward to Mexico but not the long trip to get there. We leave at seven o'clock tomorrow morning and arrive at our hotel at ten o'clock at night! And the next day we go on an eight hour trip to Chichen Itza! What was I thinking?
I have been overwhelmed by this trip. Literaly. Yesterday I had to hide in my bedroom as yet another visitor called in. But there is a charm to the place. Where else would you have a meeting with the architect of your new house and be given a home grown cucumber to take away?
Where else would you go to get your driver's license and find the municipal building shared space with a nail parlour?

Passed with flying colours! 

Tom now has an American driving license. Wahoo! He will be able to vote here in the upcoming election and become a resident of Charlevoix, Michigan!

And to end the nail biting suspense of did we or didn't we camp out last night? Here is the photographic evidence of our first night in the house.

The tent was already up. Now all we had to do was pump up the air beds which we sensibly did by day light.

We had dinner with Bill and Mary Lee Fowle - childhood friends of Tom's and then crept up the hill in the dark with the aid of torch lights. We toasted our first night with wine in plastic cups and went to sleep fully dressed to protect us from the cold. Slept pretty well although there were some odd noises in the night. I heard a strange sound like a crying child which I think might have been a racoon. The stars in the night sky were huge and brilliant. Woke up in the morning feeling and looking pretty rumpled as can be seen in the above photograph. Luckily we could make breakfast and have a hot shower in Cathy and Phil's cabin.

Charlevoix - land of chipmunks, bonfires, tennis, sudden storms and the Lake itself as a constant presence.

I can't believe that we only have five days left. I had thought that I would be bored by three weeks in Charlevoix which is why I set up such a punishing pace of sightseeing in Mexico. But I am exhausted by the constant activity up here. People to visit, places to go, food to be eaten and games to be played.
There seems to be a constant parade of social activity and so many things to be achieved.
Today Tom is going for his American driver's licence after which we will play the obligatory round of tennis. Or maybe not. We haven't played for the last couple of days. Not only were our bodies bruised and battered but the weather turned suddenly cold and blustery.
Last night we had the luxury of staying in Phil and Cathy's house alone. It was wonderful to just sit on the couch in front of the fire and wallow in the silence.

We have been eating our way through the left overs from the pre- wedding party that Cathy threw for her daughter Sarah. Everybody is now on Mackinac Island awaiting the huge wedding.
It is cold but sunny and the chipmunks are scurrying and the waves are lapping. Tom has begun to erect a tent for a possible camp in our new house tonight.

It will be interesting to see what happens. Another night in front of the fire in the cozy cottage......

Followed by a gentle lie in.......

Or a night in the wilds with racoons and chipmunks running riot all around us? Watch this space for the next exciting instalment!

Jesse and Tom decided to toast the house in beer.
I am sitting in the skeleton of the house stealing Phil's WIFI to send this blog. How cool is that. We never have to get a dish or anything. We can just creep around stealing Phil's connectivity forever.

Yesterday we went into Charlevoix to the artist's market and saw some great art works. They only have the markets once a year so it was a wonderful chance to see what an artistic place it is up here.

In my dreams I am this tennis Goddess and it is sad when I see the reality. I look like the tennis toad.
I am however slightly improving every day.
For those of you who don't know who the cast of characters up here are, here is a brief run down:
Tom has four siblings. His brother Phil has a partner called Cathy whose daughter Sarah is getting married next week. We are living in their house at the moment but today we move out and the wedding hordes move in.
Tom's oldest sister Ayrie is in Chicago now. She has two daughters,
Kate and Rebecca. Kate is here now with her two children Lily and James. Kate is married to Jason who is arriving shortly.
Lucy is another sister and she is coming up here in a day or two and there is another sister Les who won't be coming up this year.
There are also an astounding array of people who drift in and out who are relatives and friends and a combination of both.  The whole place is a hotbed of gossip and speculation.
Last night we all had dinner in the big house after cocktails with cousins Stu and Sue, a twin-like couple.
Jesse, Mel and Kate made tacos, beans and guacamole and we all played Up Jenkins, a strange game where we try to figure out who is hiding a quarter coin in their hands.
There is another dinner game which is horrible where everybody suddenly puts their finger on the side of their nose and the last person to realise it and doesn't have a digit attached to their nose has to hide under the table and say "I'm a little pig". Go figure.

Bubbles and dreams and Lake Charlevoix. Lily demonstrates her bubble making ability before a splendid dinner of turkey burgers and BLT salad that Cathy made.
I haven't mentioned that we are moving out of the Beach House tomorrow and then hopping between Lucy's cottage and the Main house for the rest of our stay.
For us the main focus of this trip has been the building of the house but for Cathy it has been the countdown to her daughter's wedding next Saturday. She has been graciously hosting us while she waits for the 30 odd people to descend on her tomorrow. It is her job to feed, coordinate and house all these people for over a week. And she has been giving me tennis lessons. She deserves a medal.

                                                   Life at Mooreville

When I named my blog Route Sixty Six and then more, I should have called Route Sixty Six and then Mooreville.
Except then I couldn't write about Mexico. There's a conundrum.
There have been may conundrums up here at Mooreville - the compound formerly known as Charlevoix.
How many states in America have the death penalty are quickly solved with Google but the old chestnut of "If a tree falls in a forest and nobody hears it, did it fall at all?" has been the subject of fierce debate for a couple of days.

Phil, ever logical, says the the question should be rephrased. If you state that the tree falls at the start of the question then of course it fell.
However I wanted to delve deeper and armed with all resources of Google, I am persevering with the question.
It is all about subjectivity. The only reality we humans have is our own construct of things. So unless we see it it is not real to us. Reality is how we arrange it.
A technical answer to the question is that sound is vibration, transmitted to our senses through the mechanism of the ear and recognised as sound at our nerve centres.
The falling of the tree or any other disturbance will produce vibration of the air. If there are no ears to hear there will be no sound.
Sounds good to me.
BUT - what about if I didn't actually see, hear or perceive something happen, would I believe it?
If someone tells me that the Olympics are on right now in England but I have no access to a television or newspaper or Google, do I believe them?
Of course I do unless I have grounds to disbelieve them.
BUT then how can I trust something I cannot empirically prove?
I can't.
ARGHHH!!!!!!

After the horror of shopping we had drinks to farewell Ayrie. James is the life and soul of the party.
We then went downstairs where Lilly was given her Charlevoix award.

Lilly and Ayrie captured 11 chipmunks and humanely let them go.
After dinner I spent an insane night trying to redesign the bathroom in Tom's house. Feeling a bit tired and rumpled today but will try another game of tennis this afternoon.

Following the dream becomes a little harder when you are channelling it through Lowe's and Home Depot. The vision of the gorgeous house fades a little as you wander lost and forlorn up and down aisles of merchandise that is not quite what you want or what you're looking for.
It's a huge task to buy a whole houseful of appliances in less than three weeks. There's three toilets, a bath, countless taps, stove, sink, vanities - the list goes on. My face began to hurt and my brain was throbbing as we valiantly charged through these vast American emporiums to consumerism.

And did I mention tiles?

And then to top it all off we had to end the afternoon at Glens - a large and cheerless supermarket with no salespeople to be found. ARGH!!!

And this is the house that Tom built.

And this is the view from what will be the window of the Great Room. A Great Room is another word for Lounge or Family Room.
Pretty much all of the rooms have huge windows looking out to Lake Charlevoix. Even the walk in wardrobe has a window.
It's not too shabby for a holiday home.
Last night the weather changed and today is cool and windy. I am wearing a pullover for the first time since leaving Australia.
Tennis seems to the main agenda here. This morning Tom and I hit some balls around. Now Tom is playing with Phil and shortly Cathy and I will join them for some doubles. They are all very kind about my tennis.

Saturday afternoon in Charlevoix. What else do you do but visit the Bubbling Springs and hang out with the frogs. You could have a chat with Lily who knows all about animals.

Or you could come back to the Beach house and have yet another swim and then a snooze before attempting a game of tennis in the over 90 degree heat.
We arrived yesterday after a seven hour drive from Chicago and immediately went up to check out Tom's new house. It is amazing. It has the best views of the Lake. It's a pity that it's a few months off completion but its bones are good. Tom is determined to sleep in it before we leave. Phil has promised us a tent but I'm not sure, I like to go to sleep lulled by the gentle sounds of the waves lapping outside, in a COMFORTABLE BED. Not outside with my toes being nibbled by raccoons.

Chicago assaults the senses. My camera almost went into melt down during the Chicago River Architecture Tour. This was partly due to the heat and partly due to the dizzying array of architectural styles.
The Wrigley building is at the start of the tour with its lacy spires, arches and ornately carved gate and walkway. It is dazzling white limestone which contrasts and highlights the tall glass towers like the Trump Tower.
All the architects seemed to have been working in some sort of slow waltz to create a complimentary and contrasting architectural vista as you cruise down the river.
Our guide told us tall tales and true about the buildings and the city. Apparently Chicago is called the Windy City because the people are so long winded and like to talk a lot.
One odd little fact is that Wrigley didn't intend to manufacture chewing gum. He wanted to make and sell soap and when that failed he made baking powder which didn't work either. But the clients really loved the little free sticks of chewing gum he included with the baking powder so that is what he went with.
In the afternoon we went to the Art Institute of Chicago and saw lots of wonderful paintings and art works.

We saw the above picture by Georges Seurat,  Grant Wood's American Gothic and so many more. There was a great Roy Lichtenstein retrospective. Giddy with art we retreated to the streets and visited Millennium Park and the fabulous bean and then we went to Gap and snapped up a few bargains and then came home to have dinner with the family.

The Cubs lived up or down to their reputation. They lost mightily to the Pirates. It was all fine up until the sixth innings - the weather was lovely, our seats were in the shade, the crowd was happy and the hot dogs were plentiful. But then about two hours in it became apparent that the Cubs didn't stand a chance. The crowd began to ooze disappointment. We left before the end of the game.
Caught the bus back to a local farmer's market where we bought organic pork chops, corn and tomatoes for dinner.
Later on we barbecued out on the terrace and watched the red blood moon high up in the sky.
Today we are catching the El into town and going on the Chicago River Architecture Tour and wandering around Chicago and her environs.
Tomorrow we're off to Charlevoix!

We are finally in Chicago. I am sitting under a cool fan in Tom's sister Ayrie's house. It is bliss to be in the one spot and not rushing to the next destination at 75 miles an hour down a long grey highway with the air con blasting away to counteract the blistering heat outside. I love road trips but I hate the speed of these highways and the huge looming semi-trailers. I much prefer the odd little meandering roads where you have a chance to see the countryside and towns but if we'd taken more of them we wouldn't have been in Chicago in 14 days.
And what an amazing 2 weeks it has been. We have been in our own little bubble speeding through a country, seeing amazing things, thinking deep thoughts and eating too much food. It has been both longer and shorter than 14 days - a place in its own time.
The above shot is taken in Arthur - a little town 200 miles south of Chicago. It is largely Amish, hence the young woman's old fashioned attire ... and vehicle. This was our last stop before arriving in Chicago.
Arthur was a bit cryptic for me. You had to dig deep to really get a handle on the Amish and Mennonite way of life, and time is something we've been a bit short of on this trip.
We learned a little - both religions started in Switzerland and both believe in living a very simple Christian life, often without television, radio or electricity. The men have beards but no moustaches for no particular reason. It is just the custom.

Here I am rubbing Abe Lincoln's nose - as you do.
This bust is just outside the tomb where he is buried in Springfield and apparently it is a tradition to rub the great man's nose.
I really wanted another hour or so in Springfield. The museum was great but we literally ran through it.
Lincoln's house was beautifully restored and a modest reminder of a great man. It was just an ordinary, nice home.
We saw a superb Frank Lloyd Wright prairie house with wonderful stained glass windows and copper roofing, influenced by American Indians and Japanese motifs. Unfortunately it was closed but we got to walk all around it.
We stayed in my favourite hotel of the trip - a dear little B&B  called Inn at 835 which was well over a hundred years old and had wine and cheese at 5 o'clock, cookies in a basket hung on our door knob before we went to bed, a super spa bath with candles and pink lighting and a cooked hot breakfast - all for $99.
Today we are going to see the Chicago Cubs play baseball at Wrigley Field with Jason (Toms niece's husband).  Tom's beloved Cubs are apparently the losing-ist team in America and it is going to be over a 100 degrees today -- Yay!