Step by Step: On European Staircases

I've been putting off documenting the wonderful five weeks I spent in Europe this May and June, a bit overwhelmed by the 600+ digital pictures downloaded from camera to laptop upon my return. Such an extensive visual record is a significant shift for my husband Eddie and me, as we're infamous for failing to take pictures. In the days of print photography, we were film-phobic: after a 3-week trip to London and Spain, we finished our only roll of film (24 exposures) at home by photographing our dog; an 18-day driving trip through central Mexico to Guadalajara and then back up the Western coast netted us just four pictures. Today, with the sudden bounty of pictures brought about by the wonders of technology, where then to begin?

"One step at a time," I told myself in an early a.m. pep talk, determined to complete this post before calling it a night. While I was speaking figuratively--promising myself the freedom to comment on only a dozen or so pics, versus tackling the hundreds--I was suddenly struck by the literal value of my advice. I had, I discovered, photographed many staircases and stairwells during my travels. And, since most days included miles of exploration on foot, I had pretty strong feelings about the number of stairs encountered. Outdoor staircases, such as the Spanish Steps in Rome (above); outside the Duomo in Siena (below left); and at the entrance to Parc Güell in Barcelona (below right) usually had relatively few stairs, although the baking sun could make them seem more numerous. The great thing about these stairs is that they serve multiple functions, not only allowing access to higher ground, but also providing a space for people to gather and socialize. The people-watching opportunities of the Spanish Steps, for instance, are unparalleled: old ladies gossiping as the day began, business people lunching in the afternoon, and Italian and foreign teenagers drinking and flirting by night.













Outdoor stairs are the least spectacular type, generally speaking. It's the stairwells and flights of stairs inside European buildings that really attract me. Indeed, despite the relatively low buildings in Europe--6-8 stories seems to be the maximum in old structures--I'm always struck by the beauty of the stairs and banisters. Whether it's the simple staircase of our B & B in Rome (below 1), or the amazing work of Antoni Gaudí in Casa Batlló (below 2), there is a majesty to European staircases not often found in the US--and certainly not in Humboldt County, CA.

















And, there is certainly nowhere in the US that you can find anything like these stairs:


Look closely at the picture above and note that the center of each stair is worn down, creating a deep hollow in the marble. As I ascended the stairs I observed that the scooped-out section changed from left to center to right, and then back again--a result of the millions of visitors who have climbed these 296 steps for nearly 660 years, naturally gravitating (ahem!) to one side or the other as they circle the building. After all, this is the stairwell in La Torre di Pisa--known to most of us as the leaning Tower of Pisa.

As much as all these stairs thrilled me, though, it's the amazing spiral staircases that really make me catch my breath--and not just because I'm climbing up them. The grandeur and grace with which these stairs unfurl--like the inside of a shell--is stunning.

Arc de Triomphe, Paris, France:


Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, Spain:


Vatican Museum, Vatican City, Italy:


Maybe the thing that's so attractive about stairs--whether in Europe, at home, or in the Nancy Drew books I read as a young girl--is that they hold promise. There's always something waiting at the top of them: a mysterious attic, a special room, a spectacular view...

But I'll save that for my next entry.

Baseball Field Trip a Surprise Winner

On a typical day, you wouldn't catch me singing the praises of baseball. However, the usual rules don't apply on a sunny, 65-degree day in the Humboldt Crabs ballpark, home of Humboldt County's beloved baseball team--also America's oldest continuously operated (65 years) summer collegiate baseball program. On a day this beautiful, it's easy to lure me out of the house, even to attend a sport that usually bores me to tears. Excited by the weather, if not the game, this afternoon I put on my sandals, sunscreen, sun hat, capris, and sweatshirt and headed out the door--with the requisite bag containing a jacket, socks, and a scarf in recognition of our ever-changing area weather.

As far as trips go, the 8.5 miles from our side door to the Arcata baseball park isn't a long one. However, sitting in the bleachers this afternoon with friends Diqui, Peter, Brennan, George, Teri, and some of their out of town relatives (Teri and George's nephew Sam is pictured at left.) and surrounded by an announced 711 fans, I found myself immersed in a bit of Americana I don't often encounter on a daily basis: baseball caps, hot dogs, Cracker Jacks, beer, and plenty of red, white, and blue (the Crabs uniform colors) added authenticity to what is considered by some to be the great American sport. Closer inspection revealed Humboldt-County twists: the caps covered dreadlocks; the hot dogs were Humboldt grass-fed beef or tofu pups; and the beer in my hand was Mad River Brewing Company's Steelhead extra pale ale. However, surrounded by an eclectic crowd of families celebrating Fathers Day, hippies celebrating Summer Solstice, and the usual assorted lunatics simply celebrating, I found that the "Star Spangled Banner" actually seemed an authentic and appropriate number this afternoon. The weather seemed designed specifically to encourage the free and brave.

While sun and friends were attractions, it's the "World Famous" Crab Grass Band that really made the trip to the ball park worth my while. One look at the band's play list will tell you why. Whether it's celebrating More Cowbell Night by ringing our bells in time to the band's rendition of Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear the Reaper," flapping our arms to the "Chicken Dance," or moving to the White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army," Ozzy Osborne's "Crazy Train," or Billy Idol's "White Wedding," my friends and I simply can't enjoy ourselves and the Crab Grass Band enough. As always, today we sat just to the left of the band on the bleachers and dedicated ourselves to looking uncool, wondering how anyone could choose to sit on the side of the park opposite the band. After all, rather than following the team's schedule, we check the band schedule before planning which games we will attend.

Not that the Crabs aren't worth watching--especially if you're one of those people out there that likes baseball. The team is pretty darn good when you come down to it, and I haven't been to a losing game yet; even for those of us not really into sports, winning is always a lot of fun. Today's win was made all the more exciting because it was close. After being ahead for most of the game, after the top of the ninth the Crabs were suddenly behind 3-2. With one out already recorded, my friends and I were hoping we'd at least make it to an extra inning (although also lamenting the fact that the beer stand closes at the end of the 7th inning regardless of the game's length). Amazingly, with two men on base, one of the Crabs' players (the sport-types amongst you can look up the stats, I'm sure) belted a drive right through the infield, bringing in two runs and winning the game.

As the smiling, sun-kissed crowd trickled out of the stands, the band played a few more tunes, and children were invited to run the bases while Crabs players lined the baseline between third and home to high five them on their way in. Should we want more Crabs contact? We were invited to join the team and band at Big Pete's Pizza after the game. As tempting as that may sound, I headed back to the car and made my way home, looking forward to the next sunny summer day and (dare I say it?) baseball field trip.

Humboldt Home Base

For the past 11 years, my husband Eddie and I have lived in Humboldt County, and we love it. We're pretty confident that we'll be calling this our home from here on out. If you haven't visited our little corner of Northern California, you certainly should: the ocean, redwoods, rivers, and mountains serve as a beautiful setting for small towns rich in art, music, recreation, and wonderful people.

Recently, however, I've realized just how much time I spend on the road or in the air. Spring semester included four work-related and three personal trips--anywhere from two days to one week in length--and I just returned Monday from a 5-week European vacation. Looking ahead, I note that I'll be traveling for 2-3 days at the beginning of July (Ukiah for Redwood Writing Project business) and another week at the end of July (San Diego ComiCon with my sister Sarah). Who knows what August will hold, let alone Fall semester and the winter break?

I'm not complaining; I love the opportunities I have to travel to new places, meet new people, see new sites, and try new things. And, while some may see my love of Humboldt County and my love of travel as contradictory, I'm beginning to see that the two are closely connected. Indeed, there's real comfort in knowing that at the end of every trip I take, I get to return to a place I love.

In celebration of my travels both near and far, I'm beginning this blog to share the places I go and things I see. I look forward to hearing your stories about your explorations as well!