French Meringue

Lazy Summer Morning

This photo takes me back to the late summer morning I spent on the porch just off of this door in Deia last September.  I awoke to nothing but the sound of bells worn by goats roaming the distant hills. Light penetrated my window after a night which was completely black, with the exception of the brightness of the stars filling the sky and a church illuminated on the hill above.  I went downstairs, put an old espresso pot on the stove and waited for it to gurgle strong, hot coffee into its basin.  I filled my mug, added a sugar cube and then went out onto the patio which was made from a mosaic of found rocks and broken china.  I have been told that visitors over time have added pieces to this mosaic, including Robert Graves, who lived on the next hill.  I sat and ate my yogurt--the really thick, rich European kind that comes in a little glass container resembling an enlarged shot glass.  This yogurt is one of my favorite things about Europe.  Maybe it is the taste of the yogurt, maybe it is the little glass container (which I love so much I now have a collection at home from my travels).  I am not quite sure.  But I have searched high and low in the United States for these delicious treats and I have not been able to find them anywhere.  (I digress)  As the fog evaporated, it revealed hills similar to the one I was sitting on dotted with little casitas similar to the one with the blue door I was staying in.  The hills were covered with tiny rows of stone walls made from light gray rocks, barriers built by the Moors to prevent erosion from the torrential rains Mallorca experiences in the late fall and winter.  The rains are so bad, that the island has many creeks cut into it that are completely dry in the summer, just waiting to be flooded when the rain starts.  Olive and lemon trees surrounded the house and covered the hills.  The olives were not ripe yet, and were only the size of capers at this point.  The lemons, however, were ripe and ready for picking.  I could have sat still in that spot all day.  Thinking about it right now, I feel like I am still there. 

Summer Road Trip

When I think of taking a road trip, I envision the perfect vehicle for the trip I am taking.  Sometimes, if I want to be pampered, I will dream about driving in a luxury vehicle, complete with soft leather seats, a radio connection for my IPod, GPS. For beach trips, I dream of cruising in a convertible, a scarf in my hair.  And for European jaunts, I most often find myself imagining a vintage Mini Cooper, complete with racing stripes, packed with my worn leather suitcase, my Polaroid 440 Land Camera, the new chocolate film I just got here and an old beat up Baedeker guide for my destination.  I am sure I would have no problem finding the luxury vehicle or the convertible to rent, but I have not yet been able to find the vintage Mini Cooper to hire for my dream road trip.  I spied this car in the streets of Deia in Mallorca, and had such a sudden urge to locate its owner and plead for the chance to drive it on all of the tiny curvy roads that course through the island. It is the perfect size to fit through the narrow streets lined with old stone buildings, so tight you can barely fit a compact car through.  Some day, perhaps, someone will think of this and open a vintage car rental shop in Europe.  Or maybe, I will just have to buy my own and stow it over there somewhere, just waiting for my next adventure!