Peeling Back Palermo

The first time I visited Palermo, I was a bit disappointed in its dilapidated state. Fountains that were once stately were falling apart. Government buildings built at a time of prosperity were crumbling. And much of the housing had seen better days 300 years ago. This city seemed to be falling down around their ears. I was not impressed. We are back in Palermo and decided to take another stab at the place. So last night we went out to absorb the vibe of the city. Yeah the place is still falling apart, but there is energy amongst the neighborhoods. There are hidden plazas that were once grand but now look more like a set from an apocalyptic movie. In the middle of the rubble there are street venders selling dinner off of carts, music is pulsing through the crowd, smiles come easy and comradery are strung together all to create an atmosphere of energy and community. We stop at a sidewalk grill for a delicious kabob sandwich. Sometimes food off the street is the best. I watch as the cook carefully takes pride in what he is about to serve us. There is no hurrying him as he layers our panini with lettuce, grilled chicken, tomatoes and special yogurt sauce. You can give the guy a 50-euro note and some one will melt into the crowd, but eventually comes back with your change. There is a feeling of pride and trust that is also a part of the streets. People seem to ooze out of the abandoned apartment buildings and come together despite what is happening to the physical world, readily share of themselves with perfect strangers. Easy smiles, lots of side cheek kisses and frequent embraces are also a part of Palermo after dark. The best part of travel is the people you meet and the best part of any city are the inhabitants. I love it.

Amazing Agrigento

We anchored out off the small town of San Leone for a couple of days. While we were there, we caught the local bus to the ancient ruins of Agrigento that are built up the hill on a bluff that has a commanding view of the sea below. At one time, this was the fourth largest city in the known world. It started out around 581 BC as a Greek settlement that quickly grew to a population of over 200,000 people. The Greek temples survived as the population was conquered by a stream of armies that wanted the wealth of the city for their own. Certainly the crown jewel of Agrigento is the ochre colored temple of Hera. This is one of the extremely rare temples that has somehow survived the test of time to remain relatively in tact. There are several reasons why this temple has survived when so many others have not. The principle reason lies below the surface of the earth. Evidently this temple is built on hard rock that is floating on a layer of soft clay that acts as a shock absorber, cushioning it from destructive earthquakes. Whether Greek engineers understood this or not is still up to debate. Most modern scientists however think that there is a strong likelihood that they did. It is a beautiful temple with tall stone columns surrounding it. There are a few other temples scattered around, but none are as complete or as impressive. What has been added to the site is a beautiful sculpture of a fallen angel done in 2011 by Polish sculpture Igor Mitoraj. It is a giant cast bronze work that is reminiscent of the kind of work done by the Greeks. This magnificent angle has broken off limbs like so many other sculptures of antiquity and lies on it’s side as if it has fallen from a grand pedestal. The sculpture has grandeur and heroic proportions that even the Greeks would have appreciated. And hey if you are going to make a greek god, why not give him a greek god dick to go with his impressive body.

Colorful Catania

This morning we left Catania, the second biggest city in Sicily. I remember last time how unimpressed I was with the city when we first got there. But the more time I spent there, the more I liked it. This time was even better. It is really a charming city. We wanted to visit the famous Belliniano Theater. It is really a gem of a theater. The ticket office was open when we got there, but the attendant told us it was not possible for us to tour the interior. It was closed to tourists. We tried to charm her, but she kept insisting that it was closed. Just as we were about to give up, a kind man told her that he would take us to see the interior. We walked into the cavernous auditorium and I have to say it was amazing. Then our guide told us he would turn the lights on for us. When he did, this jewel just dazzled. So beautiful and so regal. The man clearly had great pride in what had been created. Sometimes buildings and vistas dazzle me. This time, I have to say, it was the kindness of one old guy who took the time out of his busy day to show us both the warmth of the theater and of his heart. I love that.

Terrific Taormina

We also spent some time in Taormina. I have anchored in the bay there before, but never been up the hill to the town. It is one of those towns where every stone in the street and every building is perfectly set to give the appearance of a gentile life now filled with tourists that flock the streets. There is a beautiful garden built by some 19th century Scottish aristocrat who fled here after a sorted affair with the heir to the English throne. She certainly did a good job taking command of a peninsula that juts out from the rugged mountain slope.

Messina

Michael, Tim and Lou joined us after we left the Aeolian Islands. We sailed south with then through the Straights of Messina. It is always interesting to see how unsettled the water is in that area where the Ionian Sea and Tyrrhenian Sea clash together. I always think of the myths of monsters and sirens responsible for the numerous shipwrecks in this area. Now it is more the dodging of the constant ferries and ships that are the major hazards. We stayed in Messina for a couple of days. This is the first time I have stopped there. The town’s claim to fame is an enormous clock that is central to the town and central to the tourist industry. At noon, the clock comes alive. Gelded lions roar, cocks crow and angels pull the clapper of its huge bells. It takes about 20 minutes to run through this mechanical tableau to announce that noon has arrived. We strolled through the turn-of-the-century buildings on wide boulevards and climbed up the prominent hill where the duomo sits ruling over the city for a commanding panorama.

Islands off of an Island

James joined us and sailed the northern coast of Sicily. He is a sexy guy from Hawaii who planned on sailing with us for a couple of weeks. As his time got near, James ended up extending his time with us for a couple more days. It was so fun having him on board. When it was time for him to leave, it felt like we were loosing one of our crew. Just off the northern coast of Sicily, rising out of the cobalt sea just north of Messina are a group of islands known as the Aeolian Islands. It is no surprise that these islands are from volcanic eruptions similar to the ones that created Sicily. And like Sicily some of them are still very much active. Stromboli is probably the most famous of the group. Its vents send up a continuous plume of gas often accompanied with spitting lava. It is at times like this that I am grateful that we are on a sailboat that can bring us to these idyllic islands. We are able to hop from one island to the other and change anchorages depending on the wind and wave direction. We sailed into a protective bay on Vulcano, the southern most island. The tall rim still smolders and spews plums of steamy gases. The smell of yellow sulphur is ever present and the black sand beaches all let you know that this is an active volcano. The next day we sail to the nearby island of Lipari. For the most part the sea floor plummets 100 feet close to shore making anchoring impossible. But we are able to find a sandy shoal close to the main town of the same name. We drop our anchor and spend a few days enjoying the amazing island cuisine and hanging out at the local sidewalk cafes. Except for the tourist shops, the town seems like a step back in history. Its stone block roads and a labyrinthine of narrow streets lined on both sides with small shops selling their wares. In 1544 pirates invaded the town murdering most of the men and enslaved most of the women. Those that were left resolved to never let that happen again. They built a strong citadel on the top of a cliff overlooking the sea that still looks like it would repel an invading army. It now houses an archeological museum and various administrative offices. After a couple of leisurely days, we head back to Vulcano this time anchoring on the leeward side of the island. We spend the afternoon soaking in the gurgling mud baths and exploring the town built around the hot springs.

Lovely Licata

We let out the sails and start to head along the southern coast of Sicily. Joe and Loren from California joined us in Ragusa to share this adventure. We know Joe from Burning Man and got to know Loren while sharing this part of Sicily. The wind and waves are at our backs, so we split the sail and get good speeds over 10 knots. There is a new marina at Licata which we hear is offering berths for free during the month of May. It is a great place for us to spend some time, so we decide to take advantage of the offer. Situated between two ancient commercial ports of Gela and Agrigento, this little piece of real estate has its history of battles and occupation that dates back to before the Greeks. We happen to stumble into town in the middle of their biggest festival of the year celebrating Sant’Angelo’s day, the patron saint of the town. It is a four-day affair that includes music, traditional dance, street fairs and lots of homage to this beloved saint. On Sunday the town church held the blessing of the donkeys. The donkeys are adorned with peacock feathers, foxtails, flowers, beaded material and anything else they can do to make their donkey the most ornate. You can’t be blessed by the church dressed in nothing but your finest. Often the donkeys are hitched to detailed painted carts and pulling cherry cheeked children with proud smiles . After evening Sunday mass, there is a somber procession carrying Saint Angelo’s relics through town in a magnificent silver ark. The brass band plays and the participants carry lit candles marking the way. Throughout all of this there are about a hundred barefoot teenage boys dressed as sailors milling around the plaza in front of the church for their part in the pageantry. It comes at the end of the procession. While waiting the impatient boys make their own fun by creating human towers and chanting what sounded more like soccer cheers than anything religious. Occasionally they would take one of the younger boys and throw them as high as they could in the air and catch the flaying boy as he came back down. The procession with the sacred urn eventually stops at the other end of town. The police clear the streets and the young sailors take their place in front. After some chanting and a few false starts, these hundred or so barefoot sailors all break into a run back to the chapel with the silver urn carried along at the same speed. Carrying this heavy ark holding the relics of Saint Angelo is not easy. At one point it precariously tips, but is rescued by the running sailors. Ok, I have no idea what that is about, but it is certainly a fun part of the celebration. The next day, the festivities continue as the young men of the town show their bravado by first trying to walk to the end of a narrow beam on the stern of a fishing boat that is greased to capture the red flag that is at the end. Numerous failed attempts are made with the young boy sliding off the plank and plunging into the sea before one is able to make a valiant leap for the flag as he too slides on the slippery surface into the sea. A cheer goes up from the quay as the town witnesses the bravery. Then in mass, the whole crowd surrounds a tall pole that has also been greased to watch a different group try to climb to the top. At the very top waving in the wind is another red flag taunting the participants below. They also attach a hoop at the top and hang stuff animals, soccer balls and treats. The young men make attempt after attempt to reach the prize. Getting boosted up and climbing on shoulders of those already clinging to the greased pole, they try and reach the top. But it is not all that simple. Part of the tradition is to also pull and rip the clothing of those above you. Pant legs are torn off and tee shirts ripped before someone is able to make it to the top. From there the stuffed animals and soccer balls are thrown to the crowd below before the red flag is finally captured. This is a celebration not for tourists, but for the town itself. This time of year there are very few outsiders clicking their cameras for those photo opportunities. We were one of the few. This is a celebration of what binds a community together. The young and the old come together to play an important role in the long traditions that have uniquely defined this town along the southern coast of Sicily.

Running Back to Ragusa

After a week of exploring the northern part of Italy we catch a flight and head for the very most southern part of Italy. Back to Sicily and Marina di Ragusa, where my boat spent the winter enjoying the Italian sun without me. We arrived in the late evening and found everything as we had left it. The next couple of weeks are being spent cleaning, polishing, blowing up the dingy, raising the sails, doing laundry, stocking up the pantry and all the other details to get ready for the summer sailing season. It is good to be back. Feels like home.

Come to Como

Another year of sailing begins. We left San Francisco on April 1st and traveled back to Milan. Rather than stay in the city, we headed north about an hour and a half to Lake Como. It is an idyllic lake area with steep shear mountains framing clear alpine lakes. The biggest of the lakes is Como. It has been the playground for the rich and royal for centuries. Amazing villas show off their wealth and prestige along the waterfront. While there are many impressive villas, there are 4 that command the crowning glory of the region. These date back to the 18th century and include Villa Carlotta, built for the Milanese marques the Giorgio Clerici and completed in 1745. In 1843, it was given as a wedding present by Princess Marianna of Prussia to her daughter Charlotte, after whom the villa is named. As impressive as the villa is, the grounds are certainly equal to the beauty. While the gardens were manicured and dotted with spots of brilliant annuals, we were there about a month early. The rhododendrons, camellias and azaleas that towered over 10 feet high were budding and about to burst forth in a spectacular blaze of color. Our favorite town was Bellagio, which is at the head of the peninsula where the lake breaks into two legs. This is one of those towns that knows it is as cute as a postcard and caters to the tourist trade that want to live like royalty at least for a week. Three of the main villas are within site of each other. The fourth one is further south on the west side of the lake. George Clooney bought villa Oleander on the west side of the lake and is “the” celebrity of the region.

Wow What a Duomo

The next morning, we jumped on the subway to begin our site seeing adventures. Steve tells me the first thing on the list of must-sees is the Milan cathedral. I have seen so many fantastic churches that I kinda rolled my eyes, but went along. When we came out of the subway, we are faced with one top three cathedrals I have ever seen in my life. And I don’t even know for sure what the other two would be. This church is so over the top. It is a gothic church covered with statues and a lacy top of stone carved gothic arches and spires. This thing has more statues on it than entire European countries. And that is saying something. Beautiful stain glass windows punctuate the outside walls making the whole church very delicate. I was wowed by something that I never expected to be impressed with. We wandered through a half a dozen museums and wandered through the “designer section” of town that makes Rodeo drive look like a slum. Yeah it is pretty up scale. Who’s who in the fashion industry all have posh stores where they only buzz you in. There are about 4 clerks to every shopper. We just googled through the windows and made catty remarks about some of the really far out designs.

The Last of IT

As we wing our way home we stopped over in Milan for a couple of days. It is a city that I have always wanted to visit. This is a very modern bustling city with the vibrancy of modern life threaded together with a glorious past. This is the city of Leonardo Da Vinci who spent most of his adult life there. It is also the home of one of his most iconic paintings, “The Last Supper”. DaVinci was commissioned to do a fresco in the newly built Convent of Santa Maria della Grazie. Except that Da Vinci did not want to be confined by the limitations of fresco painting. So he sealed the wall with tar pitch and gesso, and began to paint in the same way he painted his famous canvases. By doing this, he could add more detail and more subtleties than traditional fresco painting. The results were spectacular. It was hailed a masterpiece as soon as it was done. Unfortunately the technique did not work. Water weeped into the wall and the paint began to peel off even during Da Vinci’s lifetime. By 1556 — fewer than sixty years after it was finished, the painting was already "ruined" and so deteriorated that the figures were unrecognizable. The painting began a series of disastrous restorations starting as early as 1726. Each restoration effort seemed to be a reconstruction or interpretation of this masterpiece. I was wondering if there would even be anything left that Da Vinci had actually painted. While I wanted to see this iconic painting I wasn’t expecting much. What I saw was spectacular. There was a final restoration that lasted 21 years. It was finally completed in 1999. The claim is the technicians were able to remove all of the added paint, grim and additions to the painting and getting back to the original brushstrokes of this renaissances master. It is a beautiful painting with much of the original detail still in tact. Well worth a trip to Milan to see.

Rising Out of the Ashes

We are now coming into the home stretch with our winter port only a week away. One of the charming cities we visited on the east coast of Sicily is Catania. It is a big brute of a city with grimy grand buildings that make a strong baroque statement. It contains some of the most imaginative lava-built baroque buildings in Sicily. This is a city that has been around for centuries. Strategically placed for trade between eastern and western Europe, it has had it’s share of conquerors and commercial success. Things flowed to a stop when Etna erupted in 1669 sending a mile wide lava flow that swallowed up most of the city. What was left all came crumbling down in a devastating earthquake in 1693. You would think with such tramatic distruction, the story of Catania would end. But instead, the residents took the lava and cut blocks of this black stone and rebuilt everything more grand and more elaberate than ever. The black stone is found on most of the buildings, churches and homes. They took the blocks and made solid streets that have been walked and driven on every since. It is a credit to the people of this town to take what has been given them and turn it into one of the most interesting cities along the coast.

Flying South for the Winter

We leave Alan and Rod at Dubrovnik and start to head south. After checking out of Croatia in Cavat we head to Kotor bay in Montenegro. Montenegro is a very small country sandwiched between Croatia and Albania. Even though the coastline is not long, what they do have is spectacular. And at the very center of the coast is a deep bay surrounded by sheer mountains that rise dramatically to the sky. We head to the town of Kotor which has been around since before the Romans. When the Romans finally did take it over, they built amazing walls the wander all the way up to the top of the mountain peek. The terrain is so steep, it seems insane that they were worried about an army attacking them from the rear. Leave it to the Romans to make sure the city is impenetrable. As a result, this fortified city remained fairly protected from invasions throughout history. We spend a couple of days absorbing the stone town and the handsome guys around town. The sailing season is quickly coming to a close. While the weather remains sunny and pleasant for the most part, we are resigned to heading to Italy where we plan to keep the boat for the winter. So we turn west from Albania and head for the shores if Italy. The crossing is about 10 hours. Fortunately the weather was wonderful, the seas pretty calm and with a little wind, we were even able to sail part of the time. We skip our way along the eastern coast of Italy taking bites of pizza and licks of gelato as we go. It is nice to be back. Italy is such a wonderful country. I am looking forward to spending next summer sailing Sicily.

Dubrovnik

Sailing back down the coast, I am able to finally visit the crown jewel on the coast of Dalmatian, Dubrovnik. This is one of those few wealthy cities that have risen through history like Venice and Florence. It’s marble streets; grand fountains, baroque buildings and elaborate churches dazzle your eyes as you enter this treasure. The fortification walls that surround the city are unmatched in anywhere I have ever been, rising to 85 feet in some places. The residents of Dubrovnik had no intentions of bowing to any world conqueror. They wanted to control their destiny. And throughout the centuries they were pretty successful at it. The history of Dubrovnik dates back to 7th century when barbarians wiped out the near by Roman city of Epidaurum. Those that were left picked themselves up, move up the coast to a more secure spot and began building an unmatched fortified city. With the protection of the Byzantine Empire, they built one of the most successful trade centers by having 500 ships traveling the known world. And though the Venetians controlled them for about 150 years, for the most part they remained their own city-state. Caught in the cross hairs of the war that ravaged Yugoslavia, Dubrovnik was slammed with over 2000 bombs that heavily damaged almost all of its important monuments. Much to the resilient credit of the people of Dubrovnik, the city is once again restored to its former glory. Wow. What a city. After spending most of the last 6 months visiting the spectacular coastline cities of Croatia, I thought that I would be a bit jaded. I was not. I loved strolling down the marbled streets, peeking into the numerous cathedrals whose interiors are only topped by the next one we visit. The wealth of this city manifests itself in every direction you turn your head. While we were visiting a display of historical documents and documentation of the war in the Sponza Palace we heard a loud rumbling outside. It sounded like sound effects for the war room we were in. When we peeked out the window, we saw chaos in the streets. Everything was being turned over like a carpet being shook in the wind. As soon as it started, it was over. But what was left was a mess of tangled awnings, chairs, glass all over and people cowering in any available doorway. Dubrovnik had just been hit by a freak tornado. A few people were injured and most of the outdoor cafés were a wreck, but no real permanent damage happened.

Baptismal Fonts of the 4th Century

Dan left us in Split but we exchanged him for a couple of guys from Canada. They are our last charter for the season. Part of the fun of sailing is meeting new guys and sharing this journey with them. We will miss Dan but look forward to getting to know these two Canadians better. We sailed into one of the most beautiful bays in Croatia on the northern part of Miljet island. At the far end of the bay is an early Christian church that dates back to sometime between 300 A.D. to 400 A.D. One of our Canadian guests on board happens to have done a thesis on early Christian baptism customs. While exploring this early Christian church, he was thrilled to come across one of these very early baptismal pool that is almost as old as Christianity itself. He told us that the early Christians built these pools to baptize adults. The ceremony would begin with the adult that was willing to be baptized taking off all of their clothes and walking into the baptismal font. After being immersed completely they would step through the pool to the other side where they would be clothed in white. This ceremony clearly represented to them leaving their old life behind, going back into the womb and being born again naked, then coming out of the font and being clothed in white to remind them of their new pure life. The baptismal tradition began to change in about the 8th century when there were not enough bishops of the church to go around. Since it required the authority of a bishop to perform baptisms, the custom of baptizing only adults changed to baptizing everyone in the village at the same time regardless of age. The bishop would carry the infant into the baptismal pool and perform the ceremony. Since infants were now allowed to be baptized, the custom changed again to baptizing infants rather than waiting until reaching adulthood. The baptismal fonts also changed from being pools you would step into, to being large bowls where the infant was immersed. The baptismal pools began to disappear. Another change that occurred during the dark ages was the practice of putting covers on the baptismal pools. This happened because during the plague, Christians would steal the water in the baptismal font thinking that this now “holy” water would heal them of the plague. We have seen many of these large baptismal bowls with ornate covers on them at the old cathedrals. During the middle ages, over time, this immersing of infants evolved to sprinkling. The font changed again from the large bowls to just a small bowl. It is interesting to see how doctrine changed ever so slowly to become what is commonly practiced by most Christian churches today.

The Beauty of Krka

With those golden moments of early evening approaching quickly, we once again find ourselves in the freshwater lake of Skardin. This is the anchorage we were at early in the summer where the swans swim right up to the boat and like stray cats, look longing at you for something to eat. We enjoy feeding them some bread. Each time they catch a piece their little tails waddle back and forth like a puppy dog. So cute. Dan tells us that a group of swans is called exaltation. Thanks Dan. I didn’t know that. The next morning we take the dingy into the town of Skardin where we purchase tickets and board a shuttle boat to the national state park of Krka. This is a natural wonder with travertine pools spilling down from one to the next in cascading waterfalls. It is a Readers Digest version of the national park of Plvitza, where we were earlier in the year. The falls are not as dramatic and the area not as panoramic, but the effect is still pretty magical. We spent most of the day there walking raised wooden pathways where each turn opens up to some spectacular display of nature. The day is sunny and the trees shade the pathway with dapples of sunshine through the leaves. Croatia really has so much raw natural beauty. In the afternoon we return to the picture postcard village of Skardin for a late lunch of lamb and potatoes. The waiter is a cute young guy with dark hair and dark eyes whose family is from Split. He works at the restaurant each summer. We start talking about Croatia and our waiter shares with us some of the horror stories from the war in the early 90’s. Though he was only 12 at the time, he knows too well the brutality of that war. This small hamlet that looks so peaceful was actually at the center of the conflict. It was the last town between the Serbs and Sibernik. Armies on all four mountain ranges surrounding the town fought tooth and nail for this little bit of real estate. The Croatians were fighting for their lives and the Serbs fighting for control of Sibernik, a key city on the coast. You only have to look up from the restaurant to see the bullet holes and grenade damage that are still visible on some of the buildings. The fronts have all been repaired and repainted, but the backs still have the scars of war. I think the Croatians don’t want to repair all of the scars. To do so would lessen the sacrifice made by so many men and boys from this village. They have moved on with their lives, but that doesn’t mean they have forgotten those that gave their lives for their families and loved ones. It is a much more poignant memorial of war then some obelisk set in stone in some park or town square.

Racing a Regatta

As September turns to October, we find ourselves heading south to warmer weather and calmer seas. We pick up Dan who is sailing with us for about a week. It is fun having him aboard and sharing this adventure with him. While we were sailing between Zadar and Split, on a Sunday afternoon, we found ourselves in the middle of a regatta race with about 30 boats coming up from behind. Just as they are about to kiss our bow, they all shifted starboard in unison like a school of sardines. In an instant, the entire race turned on command. We found ourselves alone with the regatta off our starboard side. The wind changed 180 degrees and instead of sailing into the wind, the wind was now coming from directly behind us. We split the mainsail and jib to form a butterfly pattern. This maneuver catches as much wind as possible and only works if the wind is directly at your back. No sooner do we set our sails then we find the regatta raising their colorful spinnaker in hot pursuit of us. I actually was quite happy at how closely we were able to keep up with them even without a spinnaker. This catamaran really knows how to move with the best of them. As the regatta, with us in the middle of it all, came around the corner of an island, we all alter our course to the starboard side a bit. Our sails readjusted easily. The spinnakers were much more tricky. Experienced crews handled the turn with flawless ease. Some of the racing boats were not so lucky. Several were blown sideways so far the boat rail was dipping into the water. They almost flipped. Most of the racing crews were able to recover and finally get back into the group. One boat seemed to flail about and as the race moved forward, they became a distant sight. For them the race was finished. We ended up peeling off in the direction Sibernik and head towards Skardin where we are headed for the night.

Fertility 2.0, Burning Man

Yes this seems completely insane to jump on a plane and travel for hours to make our way back to San Francisco only to pack up a truckload of equipment to spend a week out in the middle of the hot, dusty dry, remote desert of Nevada. But we do it anyway. Steve has been attending this annual event for 11 years. I have only been going for 3. I guess we are committed to going no matter where we are in the world. Yeah it is crazy, but then, so is Burning Man itself crazy. It is hard to describe what Burning Man is to anyone who has not attended and difficult to describe even to those who have attended. Someone once said, “Burning Man is like a county fair that has gone very very bad”. A lot of people revere Burning Man as feeling like going home. They talk about the world we live in as the default world. Burning Man is the real world where things are as they should be. And when you are there, you do get the sense that this just feels right. Overwhelming and permeating throughout everything else is a since of community and creativity. It certainly is a place where thinking is not restricted to what is expected. And perhaps the underlying current of the whole experience is the gifting community. There is nothing to buy at Burning Man except ice and coffee at center camp. After that, everything is given freely to those attending. Literally hundreds of camps are set up to gift to those attending anything from bacon, pancakes, crepes in the morning to music, dance, art, root beer floats, ice cream and pop corn in the afternoon. But there is much more than that. There are spectacular fire events throughout the week culminating in the burning of “the man” on Friday night and the solemn torching of the temple on Saturday night. Burning Man is every bit a spiritual experience as it is a spectacle of creative forces when normal is anything but normal.