Telluride Inside… and Out: Back to Telluride

07 Nov Telluride Inside… and Out: Back to Telluride

I woke up in my own bed in Telluride this morning, wondering where I was, taking a few moments to calculate the best way to the bathroom. Susan and I left Athens November 5, the end of three fascinating  weeks on mainland Greece and Crete. We have stories, photos, memories of beautiful places and a number of new friends. (Also a few more wrap up posts.)

Our last night in Greece was in Glyfada, now an upscale suburb of Athens. I remember Glyfada as a quiet seaside village from my time living there while on temporary assignment flying with Olympic Airways in 1972. I tried unsuccessfully to find the street where we lived; the small houses set in spacious yards with grape arbors and lemon trees have been replaced by blocks of new apartment buildings. The one small harbor with a few sailboats and mostly wooden fishing craft has morphed into three marinas with mostly pleasure craft. Time marches on, and it had been 38 years since I lived there. The morning of our departure our driver, Nikolas, seemed genuinely sad to see us go.

We were fortunate to get on our flight to New York. We were riding space-available, and because of bomb threats, the cargo which had resulted in a few weeks of non-revenue passengers being left at the gate was not loaded. We even got seated in Business Class. Definitely an advantage on a long international flight.

We were with Susan's parents for three days in Hackensack, NJ, which was a nice way to ease back into our normal life. Yesterday we had an early departure from Newark to Salt Lake City, continuing on to Grand Junction, where it was t-shirt weather. We got to Ted Hoff's Cottonwood Ranch and Kennel mid-afternoon to pick up Gina the Dog, who had been with Ted since the beginning of September. She was happy to see us, as evidenced by her running wildly around the lawn, stopping to rub up against us before starting off on another round.

After a pleasant visit with Ted and Vanessa, it was time to head for Telluride. How beautiful to come home while it is still light. It's still Fall in the high country. Though the leaves are gone in the San Miguel Valley, the temperature was still in the 50s just as night was setting in.

I awoke at 0300 this morning, long enough to write down my dream: I was searching for one of three entrances into tunnels which climbed up the interior of a mountain. I had some vague instructions or a vague map, and had located one portal into the mountain. After some deliberation, I decided to follow that path. Inside and climbing the ancient stairway, mostly stone with occasional steps of old and sometimes crumbling wood, I proceeded slowly, partly out of caution, but mostly because my pathway was so interesting. Voices of friends and some I didn't recognize called for me to hurry. They wanted me to enjoy the end of the journey, but I took my time, eventually exiting to a stunning view from the top of the mountain to the surrounding peaks and the sea below. Still I didn't rush to be with the others, who were sitting at tables loaded with food and wine. I stayed and drank in my surroundings. As I looked around I saw the other two exits from the inside of the mountain. Either of the other paths would have brought me to the same place.

As I wrote down my dream, I was aware that it was a metaphor for our trip. Some part of me has always known that, though the destination/goal is important, the journey trumps all.