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<title>Travel Blog | Liz and Ron</title>
<link>http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/Liz-and-Ron/</link>
<description>Travel adventures in journals and photos from Liz and Ron</description>
<language>en-us</language>
<pubDate>Thu, 20 Jun 2013 05:07:53 +0000</pubDate>
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                    <title>Whoever invented hats was a genius.    Whoever invented hats in San Miguel de Allende   Well.</title>
                    <description>   The church was all feathers all incense. The ceremony was simple. They backed away from the Christ and did their own dances in the street. lttable classxinfo styleborderstyle initial bordercolor initial verticalalign baseline bordercollapse collapse webkitborderhorizontalspacing 0px webkitborderverticalspacing 0px width 318px borderwidth 0px padding 0px ma</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/Mexico/Guanajuato/San-Miguel-de-Allende/blog-777566.html</link>
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                    <title>HABLA BLAH BLAH...</title>
                    <description>Saturday February 25th 2012 Sometimes people say things and give me no time to rearrange my face.Take last week for example. I was at a literary event and a woman came up and asked me to sign her book. Really I said. You can do better than me. Don39t be silly she insisted. I39m thoroughly enjoying your story. It39s a real page turner. Oh I replied and just out of curiousit</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/Mexico/Guanajuato/San-Miguel-de-Allende/blog-696834.html</link>
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                    <title>Sol y Sombra</title>
                    <description>If San Miguel is all about sol sun Guanjuato is more about sombra shade. This is not because the skies are cloudy but more a description of mood history and geography. Its chiaroscuro streets and enticing alleyways remind me of other places all at once and I struggle to remember where and to fit the pieces together. Meanwhile Lorena our Mexican property manager settles us in and offers </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/Mexico/Guanajuato/Guanajuato/blog-662777.html</link>
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                    <title>Not Your Mother's Mexico</title>
                    <description>As blog readers you expect to read all about our adventures in San Miguel de Allende. The town is surprisingly perfect bearing little resemblance to beachside Mexico and the resort towns that have been attracting tourists for decades. Its scenery is as multilayered as its inhabitants a pleasing blend of Mesoamerican Spanish Colonial and Contemporary. As far as us gringos are concerned it39</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/Mexico/Guanajuato/San-Miguel-de-Allende/blog-662775.html</link>
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                    <title>My Best Laid Plans</title>
                    <description>On the plane down to Mexico Natalie brought up the subject of mice. The day before she had found one streaking across her kitchen floor. This led to an exchange of mouse stories  recent sightings methods of eradication the amount and extent of their droppings  each of us determined to outpoo the other.Ron was unusually quiet but he had a lot to contribute and I knew it. What could he be hi</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/Mexico/Guanajuato/San-Miguel-de-Allende/blog-660316.html</link>
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                    <title>Drops Fill Buckets</title>
                    <description>Friday March 18thIn Operating Room 2 the surgeon prepares to remove a gallbladder. He stands there like a priest before the altar as the scrub nurse unfolds her tray. She arranges the sterile drapes to expose a perfect rectangle. An antiseptic odor fills the room. The surgeon steadies his scalpel against the patient39s Betadinestained belly which glistens under the lights. He makes a deci</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Central-America-Caribbean/Guatemala/Capital-Region/San-Juan-Sacatepequez/blog-592685.html</link>
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                    <title>The Womanly Art of Tucking In</title>
                    <description>Thursday March 17I wake up just before daybreak. I imagine that I am a child again waking to the mournful sound of a Vancouver foghorn. I fall back into a restless sleep and this time imagine that I am living in a small town in northern Israel listening to the Arab junk dealers coming down the lane.  Alterzachen they call out in Yiddish which is pretty funny if you stop to think about it.</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Central-America-Caribbean/Guatemala/Capital-Region/San-Juan-Sacatepequez/blog-591085.html</link>
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                    <title>Jesus Is All Eyes</title>
                    <description>Monday March 14Hats off to our nurses Operating room nurses sterilizing nurses recovery room nurses ward nurses  they are to a person compassionate and skilled. Since one of my assignments is to assist them in small ways I have learned the proper method of lifting patients from stretcher to bed of removing an IV and of emptying the contents of a catheter bag.You39re not a nurse unti</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Central-America-Caribbean/Guatemala/blog-589532.html</link>
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                    <title>San Juan Sack Of Potatoes</title>
                    <description>Sunday March 13San Juan Sacatapequez is interesting a kind thing to say about any unlovely town. Seen from the window of a moving bus the morning mist just burned away the flower market is its obvious centrepiece. All the extravagant beauties  the lilies chrysanthemums gladiolas Brazilian torches sunflowers heliconia  spill out of wicker baskets or are crammed into bins a riot of colou</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Central-America-Caribbean/Guatemala/Capital-Region/San-Juan-Sacatepequez/blog-588658.html</link>
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                    <title>Speaking of HANDS</title>
                    <description>Saturday March 12 The clinic in San Juan Sacatapequez felt welcoming from the first minute we arrived there families camped out by the entrance gate perched on benches along an outdoor corridor and sitting on plastic lawn chairs in a holding room the size of a small gymnasium waiting with the infinite patience of people who have little choice but to wait. The men were dressed as simple men ev</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Central-America-Caribbean/Guatemala/Capital-Region/San-Juan-Sacatepequez/blog-585534.html</link>
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                    <title>A Crease in the Map</title>
                    <description>You're going where a neighbour asked.I told her Guatemala then added on a surgical trip.Further explanation could have followed and should have but I was tired of talking. I wasn't in the mood. With one week to go my mind was on other things like packing and I felt I owed it to myself to give the minimum response. Also niggling at me was the sense that people do not necessarily care ab</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/Canada/British-Columbia/Vancouver/Kitsilano/blog-564524.html</link>
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                    <title>My Little Eye</title>
                    <description>I'm at a loss for words so I hope these pictures speak for themselves. If you click on them they will appear in a larger format. Aloha</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/Hawaii/Oahu/Kailua/blog-548703.html</link>
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                    <title>A Barber in Seville</title>
                    <description>In the summer of 1971 I packed up a pair of bellbottom jeans a necklace of those ubiquitous love beads a couple of peasant blouses that were less substantial than kleenex that had been through the wash cycle and left home for the first and last time. I had rented a small studio apartment for seventyfive dollars a month which seemed like a grownup sum of money. My dad offered to drive me ove</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/Spain/Andalusia/blog-543923.html</link>
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                    <title>Meanwhile Back at the Ranch</title>
                    <description>A lot of things have kept me up at night but I could never imagine that it might be the huff and stamp of a hundred bulls outside my bedroom window. Morning couldnt come quickly enough. Looking back over this last paragraph I fear it is open for misinterpretation. What I meant to say is this  I couldnt wait for the sun to come up over the faintly illuminated hills and the vast landscape o</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/Spain/Andalusia/Ja-n/Linares/blog-540941.html</link>
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                    <title>Still Life With Turkey Pie</title>
                    <description>Amsterdam is full of sidewalk cafes and at one of them I manage to do some shameless eavesdropping. A wisp of a conversation floats across the table from a middleage woman who is speaking to her sixyearold grandson.We had a lovely visit at the Rijksmuseum. Didn39t we my darlingI hear the scraping of a chair and the clanking of cutlery against some glassware.Don39t you like your sa</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/Netherlands/North-Holland/Amsterdam/blog-538883.html</link>
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                    <title>And The Cows Go Bong</title>
                    <description>Last month I had a conversation with friends where it was jokingly suggested that young children adorable packages that they are rarely have anything enlightening to say. We laughed at this goodnaturedly since the more truthful among us admit that aside from the sweet whispered confidences the stickyfingered confessions and the occasional outbursts of childish wisdom there is a lot of ning</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/Mexico/blog-465447.html</link>
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                    <title>Colours of County Clare</title>
                    <description>A good writer writes against clich so coming to this island at its least emeraldish should work to my advantage. No green then but with every other colour of the palate available I set out to discover Ireland. We arrive on The Burren in a total whiteout the landscape as blank and featureless as some inhospitable planet. From window one the Aran Islands exist. From window two the cliffs o</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/Ireland/County-Clare/The-Burren/blog-463883.html</link>
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                    <title>This One's For Betty</title>
                    <description>Ron has been reading Ghost Train to the Eastern Star aloud to me in bed and I blame Paul Theroux for that allnight train ride from Barcelona to Oviedo I really do. I lay lonely and claustrophobic in my bottom bunk which was a bit like a coffin without the amenities. As the old train rattled its way north my poor bones jiggled from side to side and my head did that bobbleheaded thing you use</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/Spain/Principality-of-Asturias/Oviedo/blog-461214.html</link>
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                    <title>East of the Rhine</title>
                    <description>Day One                                                                                                                                                       December is Eastern Europe at its most forbidding yet here we are barreling towards Karlovy Vary or Carlsbad as it was formerly called to take the waters at the largest spa town in the Czech Republic. We have put all our trust in Camilla</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/Czech-Republic/Prague/Old-Town/blog-458853.html</link>
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                    <title>Parting NotesParis</title>
                    <description>  </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/France/Ile-de-France/Paris/blog-457244.html</link>
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