3-hour drive from the Catskills to JFK, relatively easy 11-hour flight from JFK to Istanbul, short layover, then a domestic flight to Dalaman, then a 2-hour drive to Datca. Adding it up, it was nearly 20 hours of travel, but it didn’t feel that way.
Datca is pretty spectacular: hot and dry, beautiful views of the Mediterranean, friendly port village, lots of history and old buildings.
This is a short (working) visit, but I am glad that we will be back as a family in a few months.
As expected, I left the Catskills today for a short business trip to Turkey. Driving down to New York, and out to JFK, I became quite aware of how happy and relaxed I have been for the last two weeks. It has been wonderful being with India and with the kids, and wonderful having a practically zero stress life. It is not realistic on this level on a permanent basis, but I do feel as though I have rediscovered a way that I used to be, a long time ago.
Until six weeks ago, I was averaging3-4 flights every week, and 3-4 nights away from home. I was barely able to exercise, and had given up every pretty much every relationship, interest, and activity outside of work.
Whatever I end up doing next, I will have a better sense of what I had been missing, and what a balanced life style could look like.
One of the highlights of the kid’s summer camp is the family cook out/camp out, which was last night. There are many, many great things about our summer community, but this has to be in the top three.
20-25 families camp out in a meadow, high above the Beaverkill Valley. The event starts at about 6:30, with families driving in, setting up tents, and then driving their cars back out and into a parking area. Kids play soccer or football, and run around in the meadow and the woods, playing, conspiring, and having fun. The adults have drinks and talk while the sun sets.
Counselors cook hotdogs and hamburgers, and everyone eats while they sit around the camp fire. After dark, a few adults play guitar, and there is a sing along. Eventually, the kids and counselors sing all the camp songs. Eventually, everyone goes to their tents, and tries to sleep (except the counselors, who traditionally stay up and have fun through the night). Some adults, whose houses are relatively close, or who no longer have little kids on the camp, sneak off in the night to sleep in their own beds.
In the morning, people regather for coffee and breakfast. Adults admire each others’ bed heads, and ask how they slept. The kids start playing again. By about 8:30, the tents are all struck, and everyone goes home for a traditionally very low-key day (with plenty of naps). The whole event is so authentic, and wholesome, and fun, that I can barely believe that it exists. But year after year, the same families (more or less), gather for the camp out, and enjoy the idyll.
This year the weather was nearly perfect, with rain pouring down only about 30 minutes after everyone had headed home. (The rain was a bit of a blessing: our well ran dry yesterday, and the fish are dying in the rivers and ponds). Both of our kids are completely exhausted, but very, very happy. The cook out/camp out rules.
Midway through a long, character-building mountain run with my wife today (1250 foot elevation gain), I came up with a new nickname for her.
I wanted something that characterized how hard she pushes me on these long runs, but did not imply or seem to condone human-rights violations (her clearly stated requirement).
I came up with “the D.I.”, which could mean “Darling India,” but also stands for “the Drill Instructor.” No shouting, or drop-and-give-me-20, just relentless, good-humored, supportive running or biking far and fast. She celebrates the climbs, embraces the distances, and makes it look easy. She is a little slow on the downhills on the bike, but crushes the flats and uphills. I can’t even remotely keep up.
My brain may be starting to atrophy from not working, but at least I am getting to run and bike a lot.
We went to see Steely Dan in concert last night at the new Bethel Woods outdoor amphitheater. Bethel Woods is on the site of the 1969 Woodstock Festival, and is an amazing place to see a summer concert.
On the drive over, we struggled a little to come up with a long list of Steely Dan hits. Their sound was definitely distinctive (turns out that Donald Fagen’s voice, backed by jazz instruments and vocals is that distinctive sound), and evocative of radio in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Prompted by the concert itself, we were amazed at how many of the songs were immediately recognizable (eg, My Old School, Hey 19, Cuervo Gold, FM, Aja, Hey It Will Come Back to You), and were fun to listen to live.
With the friends who invited us, we had a chance to meet Donald briefly before the show. He is clearly an amazing musician (keyboardist, composer/aranger, vocalist, band leader) - the musical equivalent of a five-tools baseball player. He was also very gracious and charming in person. He did not really strike me in 2008, however, as the hearth throb type.
That’s why it surprised me a little, as the crowd got more and more spirited, to see a young and attractive woman somehow pull off her panties, and rush the stage to throw them at Donald. It was like a Tom Jones moment, except that security intercepted her and then she chickened out. She was only the most extreme of the impassioned female enthusiasts. Who would have thought it? For Steely Dan?
A fun experience. We will download a bunch of the songs, and sing them for the rest of the summer.
Zola and I are writing this together.
Today was a big day. Here is a short description:
8am - we went up to our pond with Gramae and Pop (grandparents visting from Tennessee for a couple of days), Zola did not catch anything today, but usually he catches (and releases) small fish, frogs, and salamanders. Last week he caught a small turtle. Zola also took the canoe out by himself, because he couldn’t convince Pop to join him.
9am - rode bikes the 3.5 miles to camp. Although we were joined by a younger camper, Rory, and Rory’s Mom, Zola rode super fast, and arrived long before the rest of us. Anyone who saw him riding would not have known that he was not out there, riding on his own (which nearly gave Gramae a heart attack when she drove by, as they left to drive to Niagara Falls)
10am - Zola and a few of the other eight-year-old boys had been running with the big dogs in the 9-10 group at camp, but got demoted back to the 7-8 group today. Zola says “I am basically nine,” but he won’t be chronologically nine until December, so back to the minor leagues. The camp day started with a big game of “bat ball,” which involves hitting a kickball with a wiffle bat.
11am - snack
12 noon - made paper airplanes in art, but didn’t get a chance to fly them
1pm - the “owl guy” came, with rescued raptors to show the kids. Zola’s favorite was the Screech Owl, because he is small and cool. The 3-4 year girls all got pig tails on the tops of their heads, like the horn on the Great Horned Owl (Tallulah looked very sweet)
2pm - “Rock Out With Justin,” a counselor-led live music and dancing session. Zola favorites included “Sweet Home Alabama,” “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” by Green Day. Zola accidentally smacked one of his buddies during the wild dancing, so no ice cream.
4pm - hangs out at friend Nicholas’s house. Nicholas’s family had their pond stocked with 50 trout on Monday, but 40 of them have died already. The water seems to be too warm. We saw dozens of turkey vultures circling overhead, and guess they ate their fill.
6pm - went to camp pub for dinner. Zola and Tallulah and kids of all ages ate quickly and played while adults (>90% Moms) socialized. Kids playing a lot of rugby this year, which is fun.
8pm - home and bed
Tomorrow is a big day: field trip to the water park in Pennsylvania. Camp is great.
Zola and I are writing this together.
Today was a big day. Here is a short description:
8am - we went up to our pond with Gramae and Pop (grandparents visting from Tennessee for a couple of days), Zola did not catch anything today, but usually he catches (and releases) small fish, frogs, and salamanders. Last week he caught a small turtle. Zola also took the canoe out by himself, because he couldn’t convince Pop to join him.
9am - rode bikes the 3.5 miles to camp. Although we were joined by a younger camper, Rory, and Rory’s Mom, Zola rode super fast, and arrived long before the rest of us. Anyone who saw him riding would not have known that he was not out there, riding on his own (which nearly gave Gramae a heart attack when she drove by, as they left to drive to Niagara Falls)
10am - Zola and a few of the other eight-year-old boys had been running with the big dogs in the 9-10 group at camp, but got demoted back to the 7-8 group today. Zola says “I am basically nine,” but he won’t be chronologically nine until December, so back to the minor leagues. The camp day started with a big game of “bat ball,” which involves hitting a kickball with a wiffle bat.
11am - snack
12 noon - made paper airplanes in art, but didn’t get a chance to fly them
1pm - the “owl guy” came, with rescued raptors to show the kids. Zola’s favorite was the Screech Owl, because he is small and cool. The 3-4 year girls all got pig tails on the tops of their heads, like the horn on the Great Horned Owl (Tallulah looked very sweet)
2pm - “Rock Out With Justin,” a counselor-led live music and dancing session. Zola favorites included “Sweet Home Alabama,” “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” by Green Day. Zola accidentally smacked one of his buddies during the wild dancing, so no ice cream.
4pm - hangs out at friend Nicholas’s house. Nicholas’s family had their pond stocked with 50 trout on Monday, but 40 of them have died already. The water seems to be too warm. We saw dozens of turkey vultures circling overhead, and guess they ate their fill.
6pm - went to camp pub for dinner. Zola and Tallulah and kids of all ages ate quickly and played while adults (>90% Moms) socialized. Kids playing a lot of rugby this year, which is fun.
8pm - home and bed
Tomorrow is a big day: field trip to the water park in Pennsylvania. Camp is great.
Zola and I are writing this together.
Today was a big day. Here is a short description:
8am - we went up to our pond with Gramae and Pop (grandparents visting from Tennessee for a couple of days), Zola did not catch anything today, but usually he catches (and releases) small fish, frogs, and salamanders. Last week he caught a small turtle. Zola also took the canoe out by himself, because he couldn’t convince Pop to join him.
9am - rode bikes the 3.5 miles to camp. Although we were joined by a younger camper, Rory, and Rory’s Mom, Zola rode super fast, and arrived long before the rest of us. Anyone who saw him riding would not have known that he was not out there, riding on his own (which nearly gave Gramae a heart attack when she drove by, as they left to drive to Niagara Falls)
10am - Zola and a few of the other eight-year-old boys had been running with the big dogs in the 9-10 group at camp, but got demoted back to the 7-8 group today. Zola says “I am basically nine,” but he won’t be chronologically nine until December, so back to the minor leagues. The camp day started with a big game of “bat ball,” which involves hitting a kickball with a wiffle bat.
11am - snack
12 noon - made paper airplanes in art, but didn’t get a chance to fly them
1pm - the “owl guy” came, with rescued raptors to show the kids. Zola’s favorite was the Screech Owl, because he is small and cool. The 3-4 year girls all got pig tails on the tops of their heads, like the horn on the Great Horned Owl (Tallulah looked very sweet)
2pm - “Rock Out With Justin,” a counselor-led live music and dancing session. Zola favorites included “Sweet Home Alabama,” “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” by Green Day. Zola accidentally smacked one of his buddies during the wild dancing, so no ice cream.
4pm - hangs out at friend Nicholas’s house. Nicholas’s family had their pond stocked with 50 trout on Monday, but 40 of them have died already. The water seems to be too warm. We saw dozens of turkey vultures circling overhead, and guess they ate their fill.
6pm - went to camp pub for dinner. Zola and Tallulah and kids of all ages ate quickly and played while adults (>90% Moms) socialized. Kids playing a lot of rugby this year, which is fun.
8pm - home and bed
Tomorrow is a big day: field trip to the water park in Pennsylvania. Camp is great.
A little difficult to write about our time in the Catskills, in part because we aren’t really travelling, and in part to respect the privacy of the community up here.
Nevertheless, we have been here for just over a week, and are deep into the swing of summer camp, social life, and outdoor activity. I have exercised more in the last 8 days than in any month in adult memory.
Part of this is driven by my objective of riding 1,000 road bicycle miles in the five weeks we will be here. Subtracting out my planned trip to Turkey next week, I have 30 days. After day 8 (today was a long one), I stand at 223 miles. Having picked up my new road bike (sweet) on Saturday, I hope I can get in a series of long rides this week, and get up over 400 miles before I leave on Sunday. My legs are in moderate agony at the moment.
The other big driver of the exercise is the culture of the community here, particularly the spouses (almost all wives) who are here during the week. I have been dazzled by the athletic determination of the women here: not (exactly) competitive with each other, but driven to amazing feats of endurance and strength every morning after the kids are dropped off at camp. No way I can keep up. India is in her element here, with a cohort of women she really likes, running, hiking, riding, and hanging out. The kids are very happy at the camp, and drop into bed like exhausted sled dogs at the end of every day.
We organized an informal sprint triathlon yesterday morning (half-mile open water swim, 5.5 mile run, 11 mile mountain-bike ride), and it was great to see the enthusiastic participation by about 30 people. Again, not exactly competitive with each other, because everyone was very sportsmanlike and supportive, and there for the fun and challenge. On the other hand, not exactly non-competitive either. It was fun, and I am beat.
Zola met three Irish boys on the beach in the Connemara, on the west coast.
The boys were playing with a hurley, and Zola was thrilled to have some kids to hang out with for half an hour.
India will post their pictures once she gets film developed, but the best description of the two younger boys is that they looked like the proverbial central casting version of Irish kids: red hair, lots of freckles, blue eyes, incredibly cute.
Zola interviewed the youngest brother, a 10-year old named Neil Campbell:
1- What is your name, and how old are you?
Neil Campbell, 10 years old
2- Where do you live, and why?
We live in County Kildare, because it is quiet and because my parents live there
3- Who do you live with?
Mom, Dad, and two brothers, Killian and Conor
4- What languages do you speak”
English and Irish
5- Do you go to school?
Yes
6- What is it like?
The school is small and white. There are 26 kids in my class, and 160 in the whole school
7- What is your favorite subject?
Arts (it took about 11 repetitions for us to understand that he meant this, instead of “Irish”)
8- What do you do for fun?
Paint Eavymetal Warhammer models (At which point, Neil’s brother said “He is totally obsessed with Warhammer”)
9- What are you afraid of?
Spiders. And ventriloquist dummies, they freak me out.
10- What do you want to be when you grow up?
Part of the Eavymetal Warhammer painting team (When brother said “I told you he was obsessed?)
Very nice kids, nice parents. After the interview, the boys ran off to a derelict boat, which was grounded in the low tide. The four boys managed to yank out the anchors on the boat and were running around the boat, when the owner came driving (fast) across the sand to shout at them. All four boys ran, screaming, “He’s trying to kill us!” The boat owner was pretty mad, but the Campbell dad calmed him down.