Covid Deaths in U.S.:  1,137,057   Get Vaccinated! Stop the War in Ukraine!

My wife and I recently spent five weeks travelling through Portugal and Spain. One of our lifelong marriage goals is to travel extensively when we finally retired. Because of a devastating auto collision and the Covid Pandemic our plans were put on hold for five years. In April, our first major international trip as retired folk finally arrived.

My natural inclination is to write a journal of all that I/we experienced during our five weeks in two wonderful Iberian countries. We had hundreds of photos and a short log of all the things we did so that we could remember the journey and the high points.

Yet, I remember the sage advice I got from George Metes, a colleague at Digital Equipment Corporation and a former Dartmouth English Professor, about the difference between telling a meaningful story (Open Boat: A Tale Intended to be After the Fact, Being the Experience of Four Men Sunk from the Seamer Commodore) versus a journal of a series of events (Stephen Crane’s Own Story: He tells how the Commodore was wrecked and how he escaped). . He illustrated his insights by pointing me to a newspaper report of a shipwreck that Stephen Crane survived versus the short story he wrote about the event later. Additional context for the two articles can be found in Spark Notes about The Open Boat.

I was enthralled with the two different points of view. One was a reporting of the events in a larger context. The short story then focused on just 30 hours of the event and more deeply explored the emotional impact.  One was a reporting and one was an engaging story. George then asked me which was I trying to produce when I wrote up my Outward Bound experience and who was the audience and what impact did I want to have on that audience. He was encouraging. Yet, alas the challenges of the urgent overwhelmed the importance of finding my voice and transforming the journal into a more impactful story. This pattern repeats many times in my life because I never take the time to find the essence of the journey.

Years after the Metes insight, I embarked on a Japan Study Mission to study the process of Just in Time Manufacturing. As part of creating a trip summary presentation I shared an excerpt from Edward T. Hall’s The Silent Language:

“Culture hides much more than it reveals, and strangely enough what it hides, it hides most effectively from its own participants. Years of study have convinced me that the real job is not to understand foreign culture but to understand our own. I am also convinced that all that one ever gets from studying foreign culture is a token understanding.”

“The ultimate reason for such study is to learn more about how one’s own system works. The best reason for exposing oneself to foreign ways is to generate a sense of vitality and awareness – an interest in life which can come only when one lives through the shock of contrast and difference.”

I reflected for weeks on what I learned during our five weeks in Portugal and Spain. I used my morning writing time to explore different parts of the trip. But I kept falling into the trap of just creating a journal of the experiences.

We’d used Rick Steves books as a guide and a starting point for figuring out what places we wanted to visit. So I searched Rick’s writing and videos to see if he had any words of wisdom. I found his answer in a video transcript from “Why We Travel:”

“After four decades of travel — and with lots more to come — I’ve been reading my old journals. These go back to the 1970s. I’ve been reflecting on why I love to travel. Travel is leaving home, leaving the familiar behind — why do we do this? Well, to experience new things; to simply have fun, and be amazed. To learn — to become students of the world. And for some, like pilgrims, to search for meaning.”

I reflected on my travels both professionally and touristy, internationally and domestically.  I wanted to get at my why.  I realized that I am drawn to the interplay of color and light.

I awaken to this interplay when I am in a European cathedral or church that has stained glass windows and the sun is shining through. It is so easy in Europe to find these places and marvel at the skills of the craftspeople who created these works of art. Once touched by the intertwingling of long dead master craftsman with the fixed stained glass window transmitting the shifting shafts of light, I start to see the dance of light around me. Whether in the flowers of a park near by, the shadows of swans swimming in a pond, the multitude of clothing colors and styles swarming through a European train station, the art work in a museum or the glow of friends and colleagues sharing a pint in an English Pub.

Each day we sought out cathedrals and museums or churches in smaller villages to be awed by the centuries ago crafts people who wondrously played with color, light and form.

With several weeks of being enthralled with the constant interplay of color, light, and craft, I was still unprepared for the majesty of Gaudi‘s Sagrada Familia. I was ready to be amazed by the sculptures and forms of the cathedral. But I completely missed the majesty of the stained glass windows hidden within.

The east side of the cathedral catches the morning sun so the colors are greens and soft yellows and blues.

The west side of the cathedral catches the afternoon sun so the colors are vibrant reds, oranges and yellows.

Gaudi either by design or because he was forbidden to tell stories in stained glass, created designs tat were only forms. The windows are like abstract art created in pieces of glass and hung from the walls.

The outside sculptures were so plentiful that it was hard to focus. Yet, each sculpture was worthy of a special place in any museum. At the Sagrada Familia they are everywhere.

The more astute might see the inspiration for Lucas Films star wars troopers.

Form and color and light even in the seemingly bland tower steps inspire.

Near the end of our trip I realized that I did not have an expansive enough definition of cathedral. I forgot about the magnificence of our cathedrals of sports and the interaction of movement with color, light and form. We were able to watch FC Barcelona with 100,000 of our closest friends on an immaculate green pitch.

I never realized how vibrant green a European futbol pitch is. I never understood that it is treated like the most treasured green on the US Masters golf course. One hundred “greens keepers” came out during any intermission to lovingly replace any divots created during the run of play.

I don’t know how to tell a story of color, light, form and movement yet.

However, I know why I travel now. I want to be inspired by how other cultures create their masterpieces of living color.

But I also travel to meet friends, family, colleagues and strangers who are not yet friends and share the proverbial pint.

Peace.