Author, photographer and global adventurer
As you can tell from the chapter titles that follow, mine is a book you’ll read when you want a break from the depressing daily news, you want some bedtime reading, you are thinking about your next travel adventure, you don’t want to travel, but you want to read about someone who did, or you’re ready for a bit of humor.
“We were cut from different swaths of cloth. Alfred was fine wool. I was basic cotton. He was reserved, almost shy, brought up in European and Southern traditions. And he was Jewish. I was a bubbly Minnesota Protestant girl for whom hospitality was my middle name. His family was torn apart by war. My clan gathered for holidays and on July 4th ate fried chicken, corn on the cob, potato salad, fruit jello and jokingly said “Ja, Ja betcha.” He loved Strauss and opera. I loved Beethoven, and Dixieland. He drank Old Fashions, My drink of choice was A&W root beer.”
Excerpt from Chapter 1: (Entire chapter is 23 pages)
“The name’s Viola, he said, with a teasingly James Bond style introduction. He stood as he introduced himself, bowing slightly in a European manner. He spoke with a slight accent, but it was the twinkle in his hazel eyes that got me. “Who is this man?” I thought.. Little did I know that we would marry within the year and spend a half century traveling the world doing wildlife photography, birding, leading safaris and sharing all manner of adventures, both at home and abroad.
In 1967 we tried something new, – a guest ranch in Wyoming in the shadow of Grand Teton National Park.. For the first time in his life, Alfred faced the challenge of mounting a horse, a very large horse with the ridiculous name of Peanuts. Peanuts had to have been a cousin of the Anheuser-Busch Clydesdales. He was huge. When Alfred expressed doubt that he could get his foot up into the stirrup and swing up that high, the ranch manager said, ‘Well we have a crane we use to lift hay into the loft. We could put you in that and swing you up like the knights of old.” Alfred decided he would not be humiliated by a horse and somehow, he’d make it onto the back of that animal – and he did!
Excerpt from Chapter 2 (Entire chapter is 24 pages)
“We arrived to find the entrance to her charming home was via a central set of ten stairs which then merged into a long double stairway that was totally reminiscent of a 1930’s Flo Ziegfeld production set. One could just imagine the chorus girls descending the steps in beautiful gowns with plumes of long feathers in their hair. But there were no chorus girls to greet us, just large Cane Toads who had the acrobatic ability to hop their way up the stairs. No smooth-stepping Fred Astaire, these guys, but they eventually made their way to the top and it was a ballroom for toads in the evening when the lights attracted insects to their liking. The large living room came alive with an after-dinner wildlife show – geckos on the walls darting in and out behind the pictured frames, toads hopping about the floor, wood rats scampering in the trees and, oh yes, the Motmot slept in the bedroom.”
Excerpt from Chapter 3 (Entire chapter is 24 pages)
It was very different being the leader of the delegation, First, I now had “old friend” status with the Chinese, having been there just two years before, Secondly, my relationship with Ambassador Wang Bingnan was most definitely affording my delegation extra care. But most importantly, it meant I had to shepherd the negotiations, make polite conversation, orchestrate the negotiation pauses and respond when questions were raised about US foreign policy. It also meant I was the one served the duck foot in my soup in recognition of my status!”
Excerpt from Chapter 4 (Entire chapter is 21 pages)
“It was April 25, 1983 and I was having lunch at the race track. But it wasn’t just any race track, it was the King Abdul Aziz race track in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia and I was the guest of a Sheik and six of his high-ranking friends at the Riyadh Equestrian Club. As I sat there I was reminded of the song from the Broadway show Sweet Charity, “If they could see me now, that little gang of mine… they’d never believe it.“
You’re quite a reverse harem, I told them. They laughed and asked that a picture be taken.
(I was there researching a book on manpower, but I still was able to sit with royalty, attend an all-night engagement party and barter in a souk.)
Excerpt from Chapter 5 (Entire chapter is 30 pages)
A small pride of lions, together with their recent Zebra kill, consumed our attention for quite some time, but when we prepared to leave, we found we were stuck. The van was hung up on a rock and the lions were only a few feet away. Now what? At this point we learned something of the laws of the Mara.
Excerpt from Chapter 6 (Entire chapter is 27 pages)
Once everyone was on board, the elephants started out into the morning mist. Elephants walk with surprising evenness. We entered a swampy area where, at times, the elephants sank into the ooze up to their knees, but I didn’t feel a thing. The big, flat pads of their feet cushion the ride, but I did occasionally hear a “slurp” suction noise as the elephant’s foot came out of the muck. We saw ten or twelve rhinos as we made our way through the grass. The grass is incredible – in some places extending up over our heads. But it didn’t seem to deter the elephants at all, as they walked right through it.
Excerpt from Chapter 7 (Entire chapter is 27 pages)
I moved my hand down and began to stroke his neck, then caressed his throat. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as I continued to stroke his throat and cheek for a good five minutes. He never moved. When I stopped, he would open his eyes and look at me – much like our Golden Retriever does when she wants the petting to continue. There was no doubt that the old boy was enjoying his caresses – and so was I! What a thrill to stroke a Giant Galapagos Tortoise!
Excerpt from Chapter 8 (Entire chapter is 27 pages)
The front door opened and a bewildered rancher walked slowly toward the bus sitting in the middle of his front lawn.
“Ya got the Billy on? Mark called cheerfully
The rancher stared at us in bewilderment
“Reckon we made the wrong turn, Mark suggested.
“I reckon you did,” the rancher replied, scratching his hair beneath his battered Aussie Akubro hat .
“Guess we should have gone the other way at the intersection”.
“I guess you should have” came the reply.
“He’ll head to the pub for sure tonight, Mark said,” telling everyone about this big white bus that drove into his yard with a load of lost Yanks, and the story will probably get better with every telling.”
Excerpt from Chapter 9 (Entire chapter is 30 pages)
Stay 15 feet away? Not possible when you’re sharing a beach with 100,000 penguins
Gradually I worked my way to the far side of the colony, propped myself up against a wall of tussock grass and sat down quietly to observe. Several penguins came over to give me a close inspection and a few pecked at my rubber boots. They had obviously not read the Antarctic Treaty which clearly states humans and penguins are to stay fifteen feet apart. There are some sights and sounds one never forgets. The experience at Salisbury Plain will certainly be among them. That night we had an Elvis Presley “shake, rattle and roll” experience. We had 35-foot seas, the wind was steady at 55 knots and the storm was a force 10 on the Beaufort Scale. Antarctica never lets you forget who is in charge.
