Paris Continued

Tues 23 March: This begins our last week in Europe unless the threatened strike by British Airways stalls us. To be truthful, neither of us would mind. I'm not anxious to end this big adventure. Be that as it may, we awoke to a bright sunny day. We went to McDonald's for breakfast. Money is tight. They have almost as good coffee as we've had in Europe; the breakfast is satisfying, and it cost 5,20 euro for both of us. Compare that to 18-20 euro at a sit down restaurant. Moreover, at three blocks from our hotel and a dozen steps from our underground stop, it's convenient. After breakfast, we caught our crowded train, made a transfer, and stepped out into bright warm and welcome sunshine. It's the best weather day we've had. First, we walked to Rue Cler to find a "train boutique"- a place where we can make reservations for our Calais to Dover crossing, but it was closed. We walked the Rue Cler with it's wonderful markets, restaurants, and shops- a real slice of Parisian life.We stopped at this charming cheese shop. Keep in mind the French revere their cheeses. It is said that smelling good cheese is like smelling the feet of angels. I don't know about that, since I'm not likely to get close enough to an angel to smell its feet. Meanwhile, I'll take the cheese. With so many choices, Sheila and I could not make up our minds, so the shopkeeper suggested that we take a sampling which was a container with a variety of cheeses. Apparently we were not the only ones with our problem. The shopkeeper said, "But you must also have bread and only wine not water." as he pointed to the water bottle I carried. When we had to select from a variety of breads and wines, we had less problem making our own unguided selections. We asked if their was a problem drinking in the Tuilleries Garden where we were headed. "No problem he said," with a wave of his hand and he supplied us with ice cream cups for the purpose. We paid for our purchases and walked on to the Tuilleries Gardens. Their were signs indicating that consumption of alcohol would not be appreciated despite the shopkeeper's assurance to the contrary. So, we walked on to the Eiffel Tower. This monument, once the highest structure in the world, to French industry is really impressive. It is almost 1000 feet tall. People in long lines waited to take either the elevator, an innovation in itself, or walk the stairs to the upper levels of this tower. I'd been atop the Arc de Triomp so I felt no need to wait in a long line just to test my acrophobia. Besides, our museum pass did not cover the 8 euro cost. As we threaded our way through the crowd, we were stopped by vendors trying to sell us miniature Eiffel Towers and beggars wanting to know if we spoke English. If you answer in the affirmative, the beggar, usually a little girl, gives you a note written in English asking for money. We've just learned to hold up our hand and shake our head, no. They move on. I forgot. Sheila witnessed a man get his pocket picked on the crowded subway. He just reached into the man's inside jacket pocket, took his wallet, and disappeared into the crowd as the doors opened. Apparently pickpockets are most apt to steal something just before the doors of the train open so they can get away. They have it worked out. Sheila an I ran the gauntlet and walked down to the River Seine. We found a comfortable spot on the steps, opened our wine, had wonderful bread and cheese, and watched the river traffic. It was a gorgeous day. We lingered there passing time in a relaxed way, talking, laughing while Parisian life passed around us. We walked to Napoleon's Tomb and the Army Museum both worth seeing and both covered by our passes. I was very interested in the Military Museum. It has extensive exhibits covering both world wars. Following that, we went to the August Rodin Museum. That too was good especially "The Kiss" and "The Gates of Hell" It was interesting to see a group of school children I estimated to be about ten getting art instruction in front of a statue that was anatomically explicit. Would I, as a teacher in the US, take a group of pre adolesents to sit and stare at someone's privates? Answer: No! We wouldn't be allowed. Someone would complain. All the same the statuary was great. I've heard that Rodin was the greatest sculptor since Michelangelo. I don't know, but it's impressive all the same. We walked back to the river and sat beside some barges that are clearly peoples homes and finished our bread, cheese and wine while watching the sun go down back lighting the Eiffel Tower. It was very picturesque and romantic. We walked some distance back to a place where we could catch the #7 to Gare Est and make our ferry to Dover reservations. From there, we caught the train back to the Cadet, our stop, went to the market, then walked back to the hotel on tired even sore feet. We'd walked a long way, seen a lot and enjoyed a nice day indeed. More later. Love to all.

Ahh, Paris

Mon 22 March: Sheila and I had a nice breakfast at the hotel. It was nice until the desk clerk told us it cost 12 euro each. We should have asked first. Well, live and learn. We won't do that again. We took the subway to the Louvre Museum and struggled to find the underground access. We never did so we went through the front entrance- the famous and controversial glass pyramid. We located the museum pass office and purchased a couple of passes for 48 euro each. Sounds expensive, but it's really cost effective if you're planning to visit places like a tourist. It gets us into everything we want or have time to see. Then we tackled the museum itself. Tackled is an apt description. Off season and this place was packed with people- guides, school groups, artists with their easels, security people, and the Louvre is huge twelve miles of exhibits in three wings. It was exhausting. We saw some amazing things though. I was most taken by the stela of the Code of Hammurabi- civilization's first written code of law. Additionally, we saw all the things the Louvre is famous for: winged victory, Greek and Roman statuary, famous paintings by many of the masters. It is overwhelming really in the same way the Vatican Museum was. It's almost too much. We had lunch in the food court that sells fast food from around the world. The trouble with so many food choices is when some one passes with a tray, you think, "I wish I'd gotten that." Then we walked through the Carousel-a shopping mall under the Louvre. You could live in the Louvre. Then, needing to be outside, we walked through the Tuilleries Gardens sat for awhile then walked the Champs Elyses to the Arc de Triomph and climbed the 240 steps to the top the cost covered by our passes. We had a clear day, and the view was magnificent. Standing where we were, we were truly in the heart of the city with the major streets radiating from the Arc. All the major sites were visible. The Arc de Triomph was started in 1806 by Louis Philip to commemorate French military victories. They are numerous as they are with any colonial power, but I remarked to Sheila that there is no equivalent monument to their defeats: Germany 1871, Germany again in 1940, Algeria in the fifties, Dien Bien Phu in 1954 to name a few. We had bought a packet of ten train tickets each so we took the train to Isle de Cite and the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The stained glass is amazing as are the flying buttresses that hold up the Gothic walls. A statue of Joan of Arc proclaims her rehabilitation as a saint after she'd been burned alive for heresy and witchcraft. Upon seeing this, I asked Sheila, "Who burned her in the first place?" We walked to the Jewish Deportation Memorial which is right behind the cathedral, but it was closed. We took the train back to our neighborhood, bought food and wine from a local grocery, and ate dinner with the window open overlooking the street below. We watched the English version of CNN News- a news program much different than in the US. I wouldn't say we sensor, but stories about the war in Congo or US health care are much harder hitting here. More later. Love to all.

On to Paris

Sun 21 March: I went down to breakfast before Sheila to write in my journal. I knew I'd have a lot to say. When Sheila joined me, I put it aside, and we had a nice breakfast. We are both looking forward to traveling to Paris on a high speed train arguably the most luxurious one in the world. I paid our bill with our ATM the first time we've done that in our travels. I went across the street to buy a souvenir beer mug for Michael Sander. It has a picture of a British soldier, and it says Ypres Salient 1914-1918. He'll enjoy it for two reasons: it's historic, and it holds beer. We had spent all of our available cash, so we stopped at a nearby ATM to get some. My card was rejected then rejected again. Sheila tried her card same result. Ok, now what? what if we can't get cash? What happened? Did paying our hotel bill in US currency trigger some stop mechanism? We didn't know, but it was nerve wracking. We got our stuff from the hotel, said good bye to Philip, the host, and started out for the train station in a grey drizzling rain. We stopped at another bank to try our card again-no luck. We caught our train. Using our Eurail pass, we made it to Brussels with no problem. Once there, we checked on our train, a very sleek, modern , spiffy looking thing painted maroon and metallic silver. We got on and settled into a very luxurious ride. Uniformed attendants served us unlimited food and wine. We might be broke as hell, but we were sure going to enjoy the ride to the poor house. We were traveling 300 km/hr. We were passing power poles faster than a car passes pickets on a fence. We got to Paris in 1 hour and 15 min not nearly long enough for me. We found another ATM. No problem this time. Whatever it was, it was no longer a problem. We left the station and walked for about ten minutes. We soon discovered that we'd taken a wrong turn. We congratulated ourselves on our fitness and on our ability to roll with mistakes. Neither of us get to excited about things like that. After a while, we found the right street and our hotel, L' Ocean. It's a funny thing, but some hotels make a big deal out of seeing your passport and dutifully writing down the number. This hotel manager couldn't have cared less even after I offered thinking he'd want it. Maybe it's just the French. They really don't like to be told they have to do something. I liked it. Anyway, we checked in, settled into our room, opened the window, and put our feet up on the window sill to watch this little slice of Paris roll by. It was a beautiful evening- blue sky and warm. After awhile, Sheila and I walked to the Seine about 2km from where we were staying. We saw, I for the first time, the Louvre, The Tuilleries Garden, the Orsay Museum, and the Eiffel Tower. It was really magical. Here I was: another pinch me moment seeing many of Paris's major attractions. I was very excited. We walked back, and by this time, I was a little leg weary. We'd been walking for three hours. More later. Love to all.

Ypres Salient Continued

20 March: The Tyne Cot Cemetery also contains a small but interesting museum. The names of the fallen are read quietly but continuously. We saw poetry, the language of the heart, relating feelings toward the horror, the love of home, the resignation to death. The soldier's letters all contain some reassurance for their families and thanks for small favors: cookies sent from home, tooth paste, soap etc.. There are 12,000 in this cemetery, and 34,000 names of those never found. We went to Hill 62, a small private museum. It's filled with artifacts, but most interesting because of the preserved shell holes and trenches. The trenches, a device developed out of the stalemate on the Western Front, were dug to shoulder height. In the rain and snow, these things filled with mud making the duck boards useless. Sheltered places, if you can call them that, were covered with arched galvanized corrugated steel. Farmers today use it to cover firewood. It's hard to believe people lived in these places. A soldier was given about 6ft of space for which he was responsible. He ate, slept, and sometimes defecated here though ideally there was a designated area for this. A soldier was promised one hot meal per day and .125 liters of rum, but under the pressure of war this was not always possible. If a part of battlement, the sandbag protection in front of the trench were destroyed, it was quickly rebuilt with anything at hand sometimes with the bodies of their fallen comrades. The British soldier typically spent a week at the front before being sent rearward for a rest and laundry unless, of course he was needed at the front. Lice were constant companions. Even a delousing and boiled clothing were not enough to rid soldiers of the infestation. After a month at the front, a soldier was sent farther back. Battle fatigue was seen as cowardice and was sometimes punished with execution. A French regiment mutinied in 1917. One in ten were shoot as punishment. After a brief lunch, we were joined by three Brits. We drove to Hill 60 to see the site of the Battle of Mesin Ridge. The allies tunneled under the German position. They dug 21 tunnels sometimes 1000 meters long. They packed these mines with thousands of pounds of explosives. They were detonated simultaneously. Nineteen exploded sending pillars of fire and earth into the air and creating a concussion that was felt in London. Ten thousand Germans were killed outright. Those nearby not killed by the blast were buried alive including 300 Irish. The explosions created craters visible today as deep as 70 feet and 400 meters around. We went to the battle field at Mesin where an artillery barrage 12.5 miles long pounded the Germans with literally millions of shells as the Germans huddled in their reinforced bunkers.(Hitler fought and was wounded here.) The allies, convinced no one could withstand that bombardment, attacked. The Germans were prepared for this. From 7:30a until about noon, the Germans fired 500 rounds a minute per machine gun changing barrels on their weapons when necessary. Over 60,000 soldiers were slaughtered in about 5 hours nearly as many as 3 days of Gettysburg and more than 9 years of Viet Nam. Next, we went to the site of the Christmas Truce. On Christmas Eve of 1914, the allies heard the Germans singing carols. The lines were so close they could hear each other. Soon the allies joined the singing. The Germans invited the allies over. The officers ordered the men not to go thinking it was a trap, the men went anyway. The Brits took their rum, the French their wine, and the Germans shared their beer, and they all celebrated the birth of the Prince of Peace. This spread along the lines, and it lasted for days. The "enemies" sang, swapped stories, played football, and exchanged gifts of buttons and badges. In one story, a Brit, who'd spent some time living in Munich, recognized his former barber. Now, the difficulty for the officers: how to get the men to resume the war against newly found friends. Finally, the officers threatened the troops with execution if they did not fire on the Germans. Something like that I'm sure happened on the German side, and the killing resumed. We stopped for a beer. Then Andre took us to the American Memorial to troops who died in the area. It's humorously small. This memorial to the American service dead who gave the "last full measure" is a joke. So I told our companions, who'd remained respectfully silent, "It's nice to see that at least the Americans have a sense of humor." We said our good byes, and Sheila and I went to dinner. I'll never forget this day. World War I broke out in Belgium, trenches were first used here as was lethal poison gas. The Great War as it's called is so significant. It leads directly to the rise of National Socialism and the outbreak of WWII. It is the real end to the old regime in Europe. It leads to the Bolshivek Revolution in Russia and much more. But , to me most importantly, it destroyed a generation of young men. Even if they survived the war, their lives were short circuited physically, mentally and emotionally. How, witnessing such madness, could they not be irrevocably altered? How, if 5000 years of human history could not generate the wisdom to prevent the carnage, could anything make any sense? More later. Love to all.

Ypres Salient

Sat 20 March Sheila and I awoke to the clatter of shopkeepers setting up their open air stalls in the square below our window. It's like a mini mall really selling fresh meats and vegetables, flowers, leather goods, clothing, jewelry, CDs and the like. At 9:30, we met Andre, our guide from Over the Top Tours. Sheila and I had him all to ourselves for the morning. There is something about this war in its tragedy that touches me like no other conflict. It was such a waste, and it was so unnessary. I have looked forward to this tour since we started planning our trip here, and I was not disappointed. In military terms, a salient is a position surrounded on three sides by the enemy. For obvious reasons, it makes it a difficult defensive position. You have to fight on three fronts. After a short drive, we stopped at the Essex Farm Dressing Station and cemetery. There are 163 of these cemeteries in this area. We noticed that gravestones are often grouped together in twos, threes or more the victims of a shell blast or a machine gun spray. Frequently, men were buried where they fell. Most of the men in the cemetery were unnamed. The British used stiff cardboard dog tags. These were often destroyed making identification impossible. Letters home were impersonal where an official crosses out the inappropriate reason for death. It was most frequently: "Missing in action. Presumed dead. At the Menin Gate, there are 53 thousand names. At Tyne Cot 34 thousand. At Langemark there is a mass grave with 25 thousand Germans The monument also contains the names of tens of thousands more dead yet unidentified soldiers. These monuments listing the names of the fallen are all over. Men or parts of men as young as 15 and as old as seventy are buried beneath Flanders Field wrapped in a blanket, the usual method of burial. You get the point, the extent of the devastation is staggering. Nothing in anyone's experience could prepare you for this kind of horror and destruction.The dressing station, no more than a dank low ceilinged bunker designed to help those they could help, and triage the rest. It was so small there was no way they could have kept up with the casualties in one of the most destructive wars in history. There were six of these facilities near here. Only one remains. We visited a German bunker, a shelter from intolerable bombardment with steel reinforced 2.5 meter thick concrete walls capable of withstanding a direct hit. The allies had nothing like it. The Germans took much better care of their troops. We went to Langemark, the German cemetery, which, in part, served the Nazi propaganda machine commemorating what they called the slaughter of the innocents. As they tell the story: Kaiser Wilhelm, believing that the Germans would break through the Allied lines, sent a group of school children to witness it. The Nazis claim thy were gunned down holding hands and singing. In truth, they were running toward the German lines singing in the hope they wouldn't be mistaken as attacking soldiers by the Germans. Who gunned them down is lost in the fog of war. We visited the Canadian Memorial at St Juliene. It was here on April 22, 1915 the Germans released thousands of pounds of chlorine gas the first use of lethal gas in warfare. When the allies realized what it was, they ran creating a huge hole in the allied lines. The Canadians were called in to fill the breach. Some 2000 died here. Fortunately, there were two chemists among the Canadians. They knew that alkaline neutralized chlorine. The only readily available alkaline: urine. The Canadians were instructed to pee on cloth and hold it to their faces for protection. Later, of course, as both sides used gas phosgene then mustard gas, gas masks were developed. Ironically, a German Jew developed these gasses and Zyclon B for the Germans. A short drive later, Andre stopped the van and pointed to two objects beside the road. " Those are hand grenades. Those were not there yesterday," he said. We stopped the van to look. Unexploded ordinance is all over the place here. When something is found, people put it alongside the road and the army comes by to pick it up. We pulled into a farm and went into a barn. There were all kinds of WWI artifacts here: Royal Enfield rifels, parts of machine guns unexploded cannon shells in enough state of rot that we could see the musket-like lead balls that scattered upon detonation tearing to shreds plants animals an men. Chilling. Next, we stopped at Tyne Cot, the British Memorial to the Third Battle of Ypres or Passchendaele. The area is barely above sea level and is kept dry by a complex drainage system. Continuous bombardment destroyed this system. That coupled with a very wet Winter and Spring made the area a quagmire of soupy mud. Men and material had to move along duckboard cat walks. Were a man, wearing up to 100 lbs of gear, to fall into a mud filled shell hole, he would drown before he could be rescued. The fighting was severe and constant. It took the allies 2.5 months to take Passchendaele Ridge. The Germans recaptured it in 3 days. I've read that it cost one human life to gain about 2 inches of territory, but this cost 500,00 lives for no gain whatsoever-a testimony to the futility of war. More later. Love to all.

On the Road Again: Hello Ypres

Fri 19 March: Sheila and I were up early enough to say good bye to Beth, Jeff, and the kids. After they'd gone, we finished our packing, which by this time in the trip has become a matter of minutes, and we were out the door. We made the walk to the train station in a drizzling rain stopping to take pictures of the local residences. It seems that residences are taxed according to the linear footage that faces the street. So houses are narrow and tall. Interesting. We caught the train to Rotterdam Central where we bought food and wine for the journey. Or train to Brussels was supposed to leave from track 4, but track 4, we discovered, did not exist. Really, it didn't exist. We asked an official. She asked where we were going and said that train was rescheduled for track 6. Track 4 was under repair and out of service. It reminded me of a scene from Harry Potter when he looks for platform 7 and one half. Well, we go to track 6 only to find that our train is delayed for 24 minutes. No problem, so we wait. A train arrives several minutes ahead of when it's supposed to, and it looks like a local and not an international. Everyone is confused including the locals. After several minutes of confusion bordering on as close to panic as Sheila and I ever get, we take a leap into faith and climb aboard an extremely crowded train. For the first time in our travels, we cannot find seats together, and we're still not sure this is the right train. Soon we got verification that this was indeed the right train. After a few stops, the train empties out a bit, and Sheila and I find seats together. All is well, and we enjoy the ride together. After about 2 hours, we arrive in Brussels. As trains often do, we paused before pulling into the station. There, below us, prostitutes. (pun intended) Dressed in their "work clothes" thongs, teddies etc, these ladies of the evening sat in large bay windows which were surrounded by a thin red neon light. Advertising. The entire male population on the train was on our side of the car. I feared we'd tip over. There were several city blocks of these young ladies. When they have a client, they pull down the shade. Closed for business. The level of personal freedom is amazing. Sex is regarded as a natural human function, and space is made for it in the culture Soon the train pulled out. (pun intended), and we arrived in Brussels. We had time to make our train reservations to Paris via the high speed train. Reservations cost 82 Euro, the most expensive in Europe. You'll see why when we go to Paris. Nevertheless, we made our connection to Ypres, the site of our tour of the WWI battlefields in the area. Our train was a composite meaning that only the last three cars in the train went to Ypres. The rest are split off and go somewhere else. Lesson: always make sure you're in the right car. We got to Ypres just before 15:00 hrs in time to locate Old Tom's, our hotel and have a walk around. As we were coming into Ypres, I pointed out to Sheila the increase in the number of cemeteries we passed. We checked in and walked around. We found the shop where we are to meet tomorrow for our tour. We walked to Menin Gate, a large arch, where, engraved in the sides, the names of 54,000 soldiers whose bodies were never accounted for. The identified casualties are buried in grave yards with a headstone marking the spot. This is a charming little city quiet, peaceful, and full of commerce.It's an interesting irony that one of the world's great tragedies has resulted in an economic boom for this little town. Shops, tours, souveniers, museums all are dedicated to the events of 1914-18. As I said this is a peaceful place full of life and commerce normal in.every way: children playing,lovers sitting on park benches, people going about their daily lives, but at one time not too long ago, this place was laid to waste through man's violence and folly. Pictures taken at the time show Ypres as a wasteland. Not a single building stood the ravages of bombardment. It happened almost a century ago, yet there is an immediacy about it. Little paper poppies decorate the memorials put there by relatives or children in school groups.In fact every English school kid is required to visit these battlefields as part of their graduation requirements. After dinner at the hotel, Sheila and I went to the Last Post Ceremony, a ceremony held with the exception of the 1940-44 German occupation 20:00hrs since 1928. Half a dozen buglers play something equivalent to taps. Someone lays a wreath at the foot of the Menin Gate usually school children. It is very moving and very powerful. I am excited to be here, and I look forward to the tour tomorrow. More later. Love to all.

Last days in Rotterdam

Thurs 18 March: We decided to make today an easy one and spend it relaxing and taking care of some details. We made reservations in Paris so we're all set for the rest of the trip. I blogged, but soon we were out the door enjoying the relatively warm Spring day. The tulips, daffodils, and crocus are just beginning so we got an idea of what this place is like when Spring is in full flower. We took the bikes out got a snack of french fries at the local eatery. While we were there, a man came in with a large barrel, about forty gallons I'd say, and he collected used fat for fuel recycling. I thought that was cool. We biked around the local lake. It was very casual and relaxed. We stopped at a golf course called a golfbahn had a beer and watched the golfers come in. This is a very small par three course with no greens really just a flag in a designated spot. We had promised to do dinner so we stopped by the super market, got some vegetables and the fish market for some salmon. We had just gotten in when the family arrived. The weather was warm enough that we all sat outside, had a beer and visited. We had a lovely dinner together on our last night with Beth, Jeff, and their kids. They have been most generous.

Amsterdam

Wed 17 March: Sheila and I had originally planned to go to Amsterdam and The Hague today, but in deference to the principle of not crowding too much into one day, a principle that has served us well, we decided Amsterdam was enough. It was a good call. By the time we spent an hour's train ride to get there and figuring out how to get to the museums we wanted to see, it was noon. Always figure you are going to spend at least two hours in a museum. Well, if you see two museums, that makes it 15:00hr nearly dinnertime. Jeff and Beth had generously lent us their museum passes saving us about 40 euro. We visited the Ryksmuseum, home of the 17th century Dutch masters. It was amazing: Rembrandt, Vermeer, Steen and others too numerous to mention. These men were masters of the use of light and shade and unbelievable detail down to the wrinkles on the back of an old woman's hands. After a lunch at the conveniently located restaurant called Cobra, we went to the Van Gogh museum. It is a short walk from the Ryksmuseum. That too was an amazing experience. In addition to the art, I enjoyed looking at Van Gogh's work chronologically. Putting his work within the context of his life and experience made the experience much more interesting. I've said this before, but it is humbling to stand in the presence of genius even if it is mad genius. Van Gogh, of course, went insane before he killed himself. He was truly a tortured soul. The museum also included the works some works by Monet, Manet, and Gaugain as well as others. We left the museum just before closing at 18:00 in search of dinner. On our way we were accosted by a young lady well dressed and pushing a baby in a carriage. She claimed to have locked herself out of her house, and would we give her some money for bus fare to her mother's. These scams are always preceded with, "Do you speak English?" We turned her down, and as we walked away she lost no time in working someone else. She could have easily called the police to help. We realized that today was St Patrick's Day, so we stopped into this Irish Pub called Hoopman's to help the Dutch Irish celebrate. It was packed with people carrying flagons of Guiness beer. We had no trouble fitting in. We ordered fish and chips and a coupe of pints, and we were off. After Hoopman's, Sheila and I walked the neighborhoods. Amsterdam is a very busy city, and like Rome, you take your life in your hands whenever you step off a curb. The streets are shared with pedestrians, motorscooters, trams, and bicycles, and they come from everywhere. Watch out! The weather was clear and relatively warm. We walked arm in arm along the canals enjoying the festival of lights reflected off the water from the street lamps, shops, and apartments. Quite romantic. I thought about going into one of Amsterdam's "coffee houses" to partake in some of their "herbs", but somehow I wasn't in the mood. We got back to the train station, inquired about train schedules to our next destination: Ypres in Flanders. We caught or train back to Rotterdam and as we were settling in for the hour ride, we were approached by five uniformed gun packing police officers. The man in charge asked for our tickets. We had used our Eurail pass. Seeing we were foreigners, he asked to see our passports. Fortunately, we had our documents in order. Lesson: always carry your passport when traveling. You may never be asked for it, but technically you're supposed to have it. So... We got back to Rotterdam Alexander, our stop, unlocked our bikes and rode the ten minutes back to Jeff and Beth's. A wonderful day, but Amsterdam is a place I'd like to spend much more time. When we got home, Jeff was working on lesson plans; Beth was working on her Master's. Sheila and I had a quiet glass of wine and marveled at what we'd seen today. More later. Love to all, Michael

Rotterdam continued

Tues 16, March: After a leisurely breakfast, we were out the door in search of The American International School, Rotterdam where Jeff teaches middle school math and Beth teaches pre kindergarten. Following Jeff's directions, we had no trouble locating it. We biked through beautiful neighborhoods along canals and through a large public park the route Jeff, Beth, and the kids bike every workday. We got to the school and checked in. Beth was able to give us a tour of the school. She normally has a class of six, but today, she was filling in for a collegue who had gone to a conference in Estonia. Of the ten children in her care today, none of them spoke English as a primary language, and none of them spoke English as entering students in September. That said, all communication at school is in English. Their native languages include: Dutch,Turkish, Indian, Japanese, Russian, Portugese, Hebrew, and Romanian. Several of these kids spoke several languages. Keep in mind these are five year olds. All of this while we struggle with the idea of speaking even two languages in this country. Sheila and I spent the rest of the day biking around Rotterdam. We went to another large park and biked around a lake there. We stopped into a local eatery for fried potatoes and beer. We were greeted by the family dog, a very large very old bull dog. There was no shortage of locals in this place. We had landed on our feet once again. We were served the potatoes with what is called curry, but it's a mixture of mayonnaise, chopped onions, and what appears to be barbecue sauce. It's different but good. None went to waste. On our way back home, we stopped at the market for milk, eggs, and bread. Back at home, we were just settling in when the family arrived. Sheila and I made dinner: spaghetti carbonarra. It was delicious. More later. Love to all, Michael

Rotterdam continued

Monday 15 March: Sheila and I slept in, a much needed rest, but soon we were out on the bicycles Jeff had so generously purchased for his guests. It was a beautiful day sunny but not warm. We rode to the waterbus and waited a few minutes for the boat to arrive and take us to Ridderkerk a thirty minute boat ride past heavily laden barges. These barges are the homes of the people who operate them. The cargo of anything from pipe to gravel is carried in front. Living quarters are in the rear with cars and boats on top look cozy and warm. Of course, anything inside looks cozy. Soon we arrived at our destination and we made our connection on a much smaller boat to our destination,Kinderdijk. Neither of these boats were crowded perhaps one or two other passengers. We settled in for the ride thinking it was going to be longer. The boat ride was no more than ten minutes. We pushed our bikes off the boat, and we were out again into the unknown. This is one of the things I like best about travel: the unknown, not knowing what the day will bring. After a short ride through a town that reminded me of an Irish industrial town without the soot: homes sharing a common wall and back yards separated by only a fence,laundry hanging out to dry and truck gardens. It was quite picturesque. Water everywhere. We turned a bend. There before us, as far as the eye could see, windmills. Only one turned, but I thought this is the real thing: working windmills. Remember, the Netherlands are below sea level, and moving water is vitally necessary. For centuries water has been moved through the use of wind power. No carbon foot print. Perhaps if New Orleans had these there'd be fewer problems. We biked out to get a closer look perhaps two miles. These things are beautiful because they work. They also serve as people's homes. We biked back into town against the cold and biting wind, no mean feat, and we found a restaurant and settled in for a lunch in a warm room a real luxury. After lunch, we biked back to the boat stop and watched the ferry carry cars across the Nord River back and forth there was always a car waiting. A circuit takes about five minutes. We made our connections, and before long, we were biking back to Rotterdam. Fortunately, we had the wind at our backs. By this time it had begun to rain. We stopped by the store for dinner and wine, and by the time the family had come home we had dinner going. Everyone got in just as the rain began to come down hard. We had a nice evening. I read to Gweneth, Matthew played, Jeff worked on lesson plans, Beth worked on her masters, and Sheila worked on solidifying the remainder of our trip. A very satisfying day indeed.

More to come. Love to all, Michael

Rotterdam

Sun 14 March: The weather here continues to be cloudy and cold. It's typical for the Netherlands, but colder than normal according to the locals. That said, it's armer today than it has been. Jeff and his son Mathew took us on an orientation ride around Rotterdam. Ulitmately we went to The Maas River where the water taxies depart for tomorrow's adventure. To illustrate how committed Rotterdam is to bicycles. We went down the longest escalator I have ever seen and under the river on a bike tunnel designed for bicycles. Bicycles have their own lanes and bikes have the right of way. The only bad thing: the bike paths are shared with motor scooters. Biking at 12 mph and have a motor scooter pass 12 inches off your shoulder at 30 is startling. You get used to it though. On the way back, we went through town. At a stop light some old lady, roughly seventy, pulled up next to me on her bike and said something to me in Dutch I didn't understand. I said I only speak English. She nodded and rode on. I'm thinking she wanted to drag for pinks. Seriously, a lady 70ish on a bike in cold rainy weather. Think about it America. We stopped into a restaurant that specializes in poffertjes a kind of pancake that's about the size of a silver dollar which still isn't worth much here. The poffertjes are smothered in butter and covered in powered sugar. It's a uniquely Dutch thing. We watched the cook make them. With a capuccino, they're delicious. We got back home and relaxed for the day. More later. Love to all, Michael

More Rotterdam 13 March

Jeff and I went downtown to a bicycle shop, called, I kid you not Mega Deal. It sounds like a car dealership. Jeff wanted to buy two bikes so we and others would have wheels when they come to visit.Bicycles are a way of life here. Jeff and his family don't own an automobile. Try that in the USA. We rode there, I on the back of Jeff's bike. It was like being ridden out of town on a rail without the tar and feathers. There must have been a thousand used bikes so we were able to find a couple of servicable bikes for 300 euro. Jeff and I rode back he on his bike and I on one of the new used ones. Now, we had to get the other one. It was Jeff's turn. I pedaled, and he rode on the back. It was not long before Jeff rediscovered the joy of walking. Guess his ass is softer than mine. Now with two bikes our butts were no longer endangered species, and we rode around the neighborhood. This place is beautiful: homes with picturesque canals running in front, ducks and swans swimming in them, a number of these places have quaint draw bridges The homesand yards are clean, well manicured and diverse that shows architecture that is unique to this area. Jeff showed me how scenic bike routes are numbered throughout the city where one can get online, type in the number of the routes desired and a map is produced. Very cool. We got home and together we prepared dinner--lamb, garlic mashed potatoes, and salad. Sheila and I really like Rotterdam for its simplicity, convenience, and sence of personal freedom. More later. Love to all, Michael

The Netherlands

Sat 13 March: We got up about 9:00, had cappuccino from Jeff's espresso machine. It was luxurious. It's like living with a barista. Beth, Sheila, and I went to the local market for groceries, The Albert Heijn Market. We enjoy going to local markets. This is where locals do their thing, and it give us insights into local culture. Rotterdam shopping is very interesting. In the first place, the market is closed Sundays so working people have only one day on the weekend to shop. The place was packed. You could hardly turn around. Also Beth has a card for this market you scan your card, get a hand held scanner and a shopping cart. You scan each of your purchases yourself with the scanner keeping a running total. If you buy produce that doesn't have the bar code. You identify it and weigh it. A sticker with the bar code is dispensed, and you scan that. When you walk out you a might get vetted by a clerk who spot checks for people not exactly honest. Other than that you just swipe your card, and you're done. Cool. They also have an amazing array of prepackaged foods that are seleced for ease of preparation, variety and nutritional value. For less than €10 you can purchase a complete meal for four by using a mix and match system. For example: number 1 is the main dish. Number two is the carbohydrate Number three is the vegetable and so on. It's unbelievably convenient, and there's a wide variety of choices: Japanese, Mexican, Italian, or traditional. We left the market and stopped to get some frits, french fries, a local fast food popular with the Dutch. French fries! I love those things. Wow! I love this place french fries everywhere and beer. This is heaven. More later, Love, Michael

More onto Rotterdam 12 March

We were on a composite train meaning that on some point in the journey, the train is broken apart one part going to Hanover the other going to Hamburg. Fortunately, we were in the part going to Hamburg then on to Amsterdam. We had another train change in Duisberg. Given the time, we go into the station, check the big board for departures, and ask some questions verifying our departure time, the train and the track number. We've never missed. Eventually we arrive in Amsterdam. Sticking to our adopted protocol, we check the big board for departures and train numbers, but once again we're dealing with another language. So we had to ask a few more questions. By this time we were very tired. The train to Rotterdam is a local and far less comfortable than the international trains. It's about an hour to Rotterdam we got to the mainstation Rotterdam Central, and we called |Beth and Jeff our generous hosts for the next week. We'd come a couple of stops too far. Beth and Jeff have no car so it's back on the train and back two stops to Rotterdam Alexander. It starts to feel like a large board game after awhile, but we found the train going back with no problem and in five minutes, were on our way again. That's the European public transportation system easy, reliable and frequent. Jeff rode his bike to his local train station, caught a train and met us saving us the necessity of a transfer. We all walked the twenty minutes to their house. Beth greeted us warmly. Gratefully, we put our bags down, and we had completed another leg of our journey. We visited for awhile. Sheila and Beth went to be while Jeff and I stayed up visiting until 3:ooam. to come. More to come

On to Rotterdam

Fri 12 March: Today is a big travel day the longest of the entire adventure. Sheila and I went to breakfast t 7:00 much earlier than we're used to. W. Northern Germany we walked to the train station and got there in plenty of time to stock up on food and wine for the what will amount to a 14 hour trip. We have several stops and transfers. We left the Czech Republic on the same line we came in on along the Elba River It's a beautiful journey, but today like so many we've had is cloudy and rainy. We had some Kc to spend so we went to the dining car and had potato soup and watched the scenery roll by. I love train travel in Europe. It is so easy and civilized. We traveled through Dresden and on to Berlin. We met a woman, Shirley, who spoke perfect English. We had a wonderful conversation, and we met this wonderful old gentleman, Peter who helped us make our transfer in Berlin. Berlin is a huge train station of steel and glass with many levels. I'm not sure we would have negotiated this one had it not been for Peter. On our way again, the day was dark and overcast so the night cameon early. Sheila and I worked a few Sudoku puzzels, something we've gotten into recently. We played, talked, ate food from the food we'd purchased in Prague, talked and drank wine. Train travel is so civilized. More later. Love to all, Michael

Prague 11 March continued

We continued along Wenselas stopping at a street vendor for a schnitzl with kraut and a beer. The Europeans are more comfortable with public consumption of alcohol than we. We stood at the table on the sidewalk ate and drank. Nice! We took a short rest at the hotel then went out in search of the Jewish Quarter. We found it but arrived only forty minutes before closing. decided the Kc 200 was not worth the forty minutes. We had the opportunity to walk around the neighborhood which was interesting. For three hundred years Jews and Christians were not allowed to be buried together. The Jews were given just one place to bury their dead, and the Jewish believe that once buried a body should not be moved. Therefore, this cemetary has grave on top of grave and over time, the headstones have welled up and tilted forming a small plateau--weird and slightly macabre.We went back to the hotel, ,a bit more, then went to join Jonathan Terra, a history and government professor at the local university and a childhood friend of Kurt and Franz Wisner from Davis. We had a great time talking politics and world issues. The restaurant itself was interesting. It was packed. More a local watering hole than a restaurant which means beer, and the Czech's make great beer. This is served from a large steel vat which has a plunger that pushes the beer out rather than infusing the container with a gas that could potentially compromise the flavor. They take their beer seriously, and so do I. Not wishing to insult the Czechs, I had several. Also more people smoke in the Czech Republic than anywhere else we've been and smoking is allowed in restaurants as long as a non smoking area is provided. Well, that makes no difference because the smoking area is next to the non smoking area. You just get used to it. That was the way it used to be in the states when I was younger. Jonathan helped us order. The food in the Czech Republic is not great. It tends to be heavy and not very flavorful, and fresh vegetables are nearly unheard of. It is said that if the Czechs didn't have to eat, they wouldn't. Jonathan accompanied us back to the hotel. On the way we talked about the transition from the communist regime to the curent one. Right after the revolution, laws were not enforced because it was seen as oppressive. Evidently it was a great place to be with alot of personal freedom. Currently it's changing as Jonathan pointed out as a car was being towed away. He also saaid that privvate propertychanges have made for some interesting situations: If, after the revolution one wanted to buy their flat and thereby own it outright, they would have to find a living space for whomever might be living in their building. So today it's very hard to get rid of a tenant even one who refuses to pay rent. I'd very much like to come back to the Czech Republic. I'm not sure about the city of Prague, but then it's been horribly cold here and difficult to appreciate beautiful though it may be. More to come. Love to all, Michael

Further adventures in Prague

Thurs 11 March. After a great breakfast,Sheila and I went back to the internet cafe to get Beth and Jeff Willen/Holcomb's phone and address to set ourselves up for the next leg of our adventure: Rotterdam beginning tomorrow. We also went back to the train station to check on tomorrow's connections from Amsterdam to Rotterdam and the availability of food and wine for the long train ride. We do need our provisions after all. We were on our way to Wenselas Square. It's the same Wenselas in the Christmas carole, but he was not a king. He was a popular duke. Sometimes, when you're nice, you get elevated to king status. I'm still waiting. On the way, after passing a couple of men who were clearly drug addicts, we discovered an exhibition about the political upheavel in then Chechoslovakia in 1968. It was fascinating illustrating the oppression of the Communist dictatorship vs intellectual, personal and popular resistance that led to the eventual fall of the communist dictatorship. It spoke to the role of the anti nuclear movement, the environmental movement, and economic hardship that led to the revolution. Fortunately, the exhibit was in English and Czech. After the visit, were had a beer in the restaurant. Czech beer is great. They're smoother and less bitter than the american equivalent. We walked down Wenselas Square where everything important politically has happened: the Czechoslovakian nation was proclaimed here and liberty in 1968. More later. Love to all, Michael

More Prague

Wed 10March. Sheila and I had a nice breakfast which is included in the price of the room which makes this hotel a great deal. It costs about €55 per night. The breakfast we had would have cost at least €18 making the real cost of the stay here about €4o. It's clean, uncrowded, and convenient. The staff is great. I'd recommend staying here. The day wasclear but cold. There are still small patches of ice on the cobbles making it sometimes trecherous if you don't pay attention. Nevertheless long johns were necessary. We stopped in an interesting toy store. We were intrigued by the carrosel of marionettes in the window. There are small toy shops all over Europe selling wooden toys, puzzels, marionettes, puppets and the like. It was fun and whimsical. Then we went to an internet cafe. It's interesting many of these places require your passport but not this one, and it was cheap costing Kc19 for 19 minutes less than €1 for 19 minutes a real bargain. Now it was out to see the sights. This is a beautiful city, it's crowded with people and traffic more than any city we've been in so far. It's also quite touristy with lots of tourist shops selling hats, tee shirts, scarves, sweatshirts all made in some other country saying things like "Czech Us Out". Music, live music abounds here. There are adds all over for concerts in classical, jazz, or rock. Clubs advertise live music nightly. Hawkers pass out fliers advertising musical events and restaurants. It's a busy place, and this is off season. We crossed the famous Charles Bridge which is under repair with scaffolding making it even more crowded with vendors and teenagers mostly. It seemed that every school group in Europe was there. It felt like Golden Sierra High School at passing period. We found our way to Hradcany, Prague Castle. Trying to negotiate a city using the little city maps the hotels provide is difficlt at best. They're small and the print is microscopic. Well try negotiating the city when the tiny print is in Czech. It was a challenge. We got there though, and the view of the city is magnificent: castles, cathedrals, and more spires than one can count all set around the Vltava River. We were not inspired to go into the Castle. I'm not sure if it was just our mood, but after Italy, it just didn't seem that impressive besides we were hungry. We walked down the hill and found this cute little local restaurant. We shared the restaurant with a group from Italy and a couple from the UK. We got our bill, and we experienced some sticker shock: Kc737 about €31 for lunch more than last night's dinner for much less. Everyone in the restaurant complained about the bill. The lesson: pay attention especially when you're close to a popular tourist destination. They charged just to sit at a table. They'd placed bread on our table. We,thinking it was complimentary, ate it, and we believed we were overcharged not being used to the currency. As I said, everyone complained and vowed never to come back, but they didn't care; there'd be more tourist there to fill the void. They'd never see us again. We walked back to the hotel processing our learning experience: assume nothing; ask if you're being charged for seating or anything that's being offered be it bread or cabbage on your bratwurst sandwich. You just have to read the situation. Call it the art of travelling. Back at the hotel, we put our feet up and relaxed before going out again. Soon we were out walking the city. We walked along the river looking for the Jewish Quarter which ironically enough Hitler planned as a memorial for the exterminated race thereby preserving it. We couldn't find it probably because we were shivering from the cold and could not hold the map still. On the way back to the hotel, we looked into the spectacular shops. Prague literally glitters with cut crystal and glass shops. They are truely beautiful and it's also nice to get out of the cold. Back at the hotel, we turned on the tv. We relaxed. There we were inThe Czech Republic, watching a soccer match between Madrid Real, a Spanish team play Lyon Olympia, a French team on a German sports channel shown on a Japanese set as we rested on a bed with Chinese made sheets. As Thomas Friedman says, "the world is flat"

Prague

After checking into our hotel whose name I could not even begin to pronounce, we went to our room and spent a fair amount ove time trying to figure out the currency. Czechs use the crown Kc. It's 25.5 Kc to 1 euro. It's 18.6 Kc to the dollar. We had great fun to do the math We were happy because this is a better deal than the euro. You'll see what I mean.So we went to a local atm,God bless 'em, and got some crowns. We went out to walk around town to find a place for dinner. By this time it's dark and freezing cold so we didn't stay out too long. We opted for the restaurant next door to the hotel, Staromacek I. We ordered a traditional Bohemian meal. I got pig's knee, kraut and Czech beer. The waitress brought out what looked like an entire pig. It was a huge meal. Too much to eat really. Sheila had pork of some kind. The bill was brought out . Kc 660 which trsanslates to about 35 dollars. More later. Love to all, Michael

Dresden

Mon 8 March. Sheila and I said our good byes to Bernhard, the only one at home at the time of our departure: 7:00hrs. We got to the main station in time to buy provisions for the journey: sandwiches, pastries, and wine. The trip with a stopover in Fulda took about 4.5hours. We were seated immediately behind the engineer which gave us a view of the track in front of us. That was very cool. It was like an A ride at Great America. We zigzagged all over Germany: Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Leipzig, then Dresden. On our way into Leipzig, I noticed a marked change from clean and prosperous to run down and unkempt. Then I realized that we had crossed into what was once the GDR that is to say Eastern Germany. East Germany has only been reunited with the West since the early '90s. Much of this part of Germany reflect the effect of decades of Communist rule: empty buildings, buildings that appear to have been bombed out, piles of building rubble. It speaks to Germany"s problem of how to absorb the eastern part of Germany with the more prosperous west. When we got into Dresden, we were not paying attention and got off the train too soon. (One of our few mistakes) We soon recognized our error, got back on the next train and soon we were where we were supposed to be. We found our hostle after the usual orientation proceedure which has become a source of fun and adventure for us. We checked into the hostel early enough that we could go out and get oriented to the city. In 1944, Dresden was 80% destroyed by allied bombing that was intended to level this city. It's important to remember that much of WWII was waged against the civilian population on both sides. Cities like Dresden, Hamburg, Tokyo, London, and Coventry were singled out. You could not tell it by looking at this place. It's been completely rebuilt. Turn a corner and you see a mosaic depicting the centuries long procession of the Saxon kings. You see a church completely leveled in 1944 restored stone by stone to its original state. Sheila and I took it all in. We walked to the Elba River and walked the cobbled parkway above it beeing careful not to slip on the ice. We found a nice restaurant and split a small entree-our way of eating well but inexpensively. Back at the hotel we had a conversation with a couple from Japan. We had a great time sharing impressions of Europe from the eastern and western perspective. You gotta love international travel. Tues 9 March. Next day, we got out early because the reason we had come to Dresden really was to see the Zwinger Museum. Originally an 18th century palace meant to rival Versailles, it has been turned into a museum that houses great paintings, 14th-18th century military hardwear armour, lances, swords,muskets and the like, and a famous collection of porceline. In the art gallery, we were able to see some of the great masters: Reubens, Raphael, Rembrandt. We were particularly imressed with Raphael's Cistine Madonna and Reuben's Drunken Hercules. Wonderful. We had so little time though because we had to catch the 13:10 to Prague. We only spent a few moments in the Armory, and we were unable to see any of the porceline. We vowed to come back. After collecting our bags from the hostel's secure room and hustling to the station, we made our train with no problem. This is a lovely train ride along the banks of the Elbe River. We had long since relaxed into our travel day having crossed the border into Czech Republic, when the announcement came that they were having technical difficulties and we were to stop, off load to reboard a bus then be taken to some unnamed station to resume our travels. Well, that was a suprize. We were in the most foreign country I'd been in. There is no way we can understand the language either spoken or written. We have no idea where we were, and we have no idea how long this is going to take. The only thing we did know is it could have been a whole lot worse. It was a nice day not too cold. It could have been a blizzard. We the entire compliment of passengers were ushered off the train and lined up on the street outside the station. Most seemed indignant certainly inconvenienced and impatient. Sheila and I were the only ones who seemed to enjoy ourselves. We were joking about it having a good laugh. It's odd but when people are put out they tend to stay put out. No amount of mirth is going to change that. I have to say that not having an agenda is a very free feeling. In fact, not having an agenda may be the definition of staying in the moment. After about an hour wait and several bus loads we were on our way again. We were on the bus for forty minutes, and eventually reunited with our train( that looked exactly like the one we were on). We never found out why we were delayed. We eventually arrived in Prague. After the help of several angels, people who seem to exist to help us along our way, we located our hotel--U Zlateko jelena or white stag. More in the saga of Michael and Sheila's Big Adventure later. Love to all

Germany 23 Feb-9March

For the next two weeks or so, Sheila and I are in Germany mostly Stuttgart enjoying our friends Christel and Bernhard. It is nice to stop and have the time to rest recoup and not have to pack or deal with the feeling that you have to rush off to see something. We did have some amazing adventures not the least of which was enjoying Christel, Bernhard and their amazing hospitality. Sheila and I have been blessed with some amazingly loving and generous friends. We spent a fair amount of time walking downtown, looking shopping and getting to know the culture of Stuttgart in a way you cannot when you're supervising high school students which is how we've come here in the past. Every culture has little nuances about how they do things. The grocery store: First, there is no such thing as a large paper shopping bag provided by the store. You bring your own, and if you have something to recycle, there's a machine you put your cans and bottles into then you're given a voucher which deducts from your food bill. Very cool. Also, if you want a cart, put 1Euro into a slot in the handle, that disconnects the cart for you use. When done insert the key. That relocks the carts together, and you get your euro back. When you want some produce, you identify it by pressing a button on a scale. It's weighed. A barcoded ticket is dispensed and you stick it to the bag. One day we went to the Markthalle- a market established and in continuous use since the thirteen hundreds. It's completely inside, and there are all these wonderful individual stalls that sell everything from fresh fish to designer liqueurs. Lots of meats,breads, candies, pastries produce. It is a shoppers dream. It's a little on the expensive side so the locals use it when they want something special. Another day we accompanied Bernhard to the spa. All kinds of people use these baths and saunas there are five or six pools: a hundred degree mineral bath, a cooler but larger mineral pool, an out door pool with falling water you can use to pound the tension from your shoulders, a cold out door pool(no one was in that one. It was too cold) and a freezing cold pool (if you want to avoid a crowd, use that one). In addition, there are saunas of varying temperatures leave your modesty at the door. Clothing is not allowed. We had the opportunity to celebrate Sheila's 64th birthday. So we dressed up as well as two people traveling for two months using two carryons can, and we went to a local restaurant 3 min walk from home here. Illya is a quaint little Greek restaurant. The place was uncrowded. In fact everywhere we go it's uncrowded. Sheila and I have a particular genius for avoiding crowds. The waiter spoke little English and the menu was, well, Greek to me. So we asked him to bring us something. It was wonderful. The antipasto was sumptious with several traditional Greek finger foods all good. The main dish was a leg of lamb, at least it seemed so because it was so large with pasta, beans and potatoes. We had a great time. On 2 March, Sheila and I took a day trip to Nuremberg. I wanted to see where the National Socialists held there annual party rallies. This is really the only relic of the Nazi era that remains. Hitler and his archetect Albert Speer designed this complex which accomodated over 150 thousand people in the stadium and 50 thousand in the rally hall. All this was supposed to convey power. Power in the person of Adolf Hitler. I have seen how this complex was used in the Leni Reifenstall propoganda film. But I came away with a clearer understanding about how a person could mobilize an intelligent literate population to do what they did during the thirties and forties. It was an amazing experience. It's always chilling to know that these major players in history stood here. It definitely brings it to life. We were in the museum with a tour group of German Airforce personel. Everyone in the military should come here. Next, we visited the walled city which which was the meeting place for the political elite of the Middle Ages-Emperors of the Holy Roman Empire. It was no accident that Hitler chose his location to stage his displays of political power. This was like walking back into the Middle Ages high stone walls, a moat, ancient oaken doors, and cobbled streets. We got back home about ten having, once again, navigated the public transportation successfully. More to come. Love to all

Movin' on, Germany

Today we leave Italy after three weeks. It is our longest travel day to date: through the Alps to Germany. We were up early before 7:00 , packed quickly, paid our bill, and said goodbye to Marco and Hotel Dali. We made the trek to the train station in about twenty minutes just as Sheila said we would. She humored me with my need to be wherever in plenty of time. We had coffee and a pastry for breakfast (the typical Italian breakfast) to celebrate our last day here, but we promised ourselves we'd come back. There's so much more to see. We watched the departure board because we were still unsure of the departure platform. Finally, it showed, we found our train, the car, our seats and settled in for the ride to Milano where we were to change trains. The train to Milan seemed early on to be mostly through a tunnel, but that was ok because the day was so dreary, dark, low overcast,and rainy. we went to the dinning car and got a croissant and coffee only to discover that those items are brought to first class by a service attendant. We had only 20 min to make our connection, so when the train stopped, we were waiting at the door bags in hand. I'm always a little insecure when we come into a new city, an unfamiliar terminal with only a few minutes to orient ourselves and make it to our train. We made it just fine however, but the day continued to be dreary, and I was regretting our decision to change our reservations so we could cross the Alps in daylight. But soon we were on our way to Zurich. This, it turned out was one of those magical experiences. Miserable as the weather had been, it changed dramatically. We came through a tunnel and it was like Alice through the looking glass. We broke into bright sunshine. The sun broke through revealing the most magnificent vistas of the Swiss/Italian Alps: pristine snow fields, manicured farms in idyllic valleys, quaint picturesque towns on beautiful lakes. This was what we wanted, and we were not disappointed. We had been delayed a few minutes in Milan so our already short layover in Zurich was reduced even further. We arrived. Again we were faced with a new situation where we had to act quickly. By the time we got to a departure board, there was only 10 minutes until our train left. Frantically I looked for an information booth After what seemed an eternity, I found one. There was a lady in front of us with what seemed to be a complicated question which of course would require a lenghty answer. As politely as I could, I interrupted. I held up my ticked and said, I have to catch this train in two minutes. The lady did not seem to be offended, and the young man at the kiosk said, You'll make it no problem. He finished with the lady and pointed to the track where our train sat not thirty feet from where we were. I turned to Sheila and said, "See, I told you there was no need to panic" Soon we were on the road again, and the rest of the trip was uneventful. We remarked at the differences between the countries. Italy seems older ancient even with ruins at every turn. Switzerland and Germany seem much more modern and put together with tidy roadsides, well tended backyard gardens, and less graffiti. We arrived in Stuttgart and we were warmly greeted by Christel Hoerner-Steim our good friend. She took us out to ther car and Michael, her son, drove us to 31 Sanbergerstrasse our home for the next two weeks. They had tickets for us all to attend a performance of the Stuttgart Ballet accompanied by the Stuttgart "amature" symphony. After a very nice dinner that Christel described as simple, we headed to the ballet. This was amazing. We sat in the second row orchestra section. I've never been that close to an orchestra let alone a ballet. We could see the musician's eye movements. We could hear the dancers breathe. We could see them perspire ( everyone knows dancers don't sweat). There were probably a dozen dancers who performed everything from classical ballet to modern interpretive. It was beautiful. These musicians were anything but amature. For two hours we were enthralled. These are some of the best dancers in the world, and Stuttgart is justifyably proud of this dance company. When Sheila and I got to bed, we were exhausted and exhilerated at the same time. More later. Love to all. Michael and Sheila

More Florence

So we go into this sort of back street museum with all kinds of people smoking and loitering around outside. We pay our money and walk inside-nothing spectacular here just the usual ancient masterpieces. Then you turn a corner, and there it is: Michaengelo's David. I've seen this in books many times, but nothing prepares you for the magnifisance of this statue. It sits in a lighted rotunda on a pedestal about two meters high. The whole piece is probably five meters high. It depicts David just after he's killed Goliath. He's holding his sling in such a way that it is hardly visable. His demenor is serene relaxed as if it was not his but the hand of God who killed Goliath. How do you convey that in stone?Come see it. That's not all. There are several Michaelangelo statues in various stages of completion. They are magnificent possibly the chisel marks of the master himself. Statues go from rough to less rough to smooth to more finished--muscle, sinue, and blood vessel emerge in order. It's awe inspiring in the extreme. We had been on our feet all day so we were glad to get back to the hotel for a break. Soon we were out again for dinner. Tired, and not wanting to spend the energy to look for another restaurant, we went back Zio gigi. The singing waiter was not there, but that was ok because we were tired, and the quiet made our anniversary evening all the more intimate.

Florence, Italy

Sunday 21, Feb.Sheila and I awoke early to sunshine and church bells our 40th anniversary. Sunday and most of the shops are closed, but we were able to find a coffee shop. After croissants and coffee, we headed to Uffizi Museum. But first, we stopped at an open air market that was selling crafts. Sheila bought a more stylish hat thar was more protection from the cold. We walked along the Arno River which was flowing muddy anf ast from all the recent rain. But today it was sunny. We got to the museum. We had made reservations probably not necessary this time of year. Still, if you make reservation, you don't have to wait in line.We spent well over two hours looking at the paintings of masters. The exibit is arranged chronologically from the thirteenth to the fifteenth centuries so you can see the development of art through the Renaissance changes in perspective, light and color. It was great, but they had closed for rennovation a room containing Michaelangelo, DaVinci, and Rafael a disappointment. Still the museum was spectacular with Botacelli's Birth of Venus and Spring. We left the museum and stopped by a street vendor for a bite. A Japanese couple asked Sheila if she would take a picture of them with their pizza. The Japanese don't eat much cheese, so I guessed they wanted photographic evidence for the folks back home. You gotta love international travel. We went into the a duomo on the Piazza S. Croce to view the burial place of both Michelangelo and Galeleo. I was struck by the irony of Galeleo buried in a church since he spent the last years of his life under house arrest and threatened with excommunication because he had the audacity to report his observation that planets revolve around the sun thereby confirming Copernican theory. The church eventually recanted and had his body moved to this church. It shows you that anyone can learn even the church. This church also houses a piece of cloth from the robes of St Francis a real religious relic. Out of the freezing church, we set out for the Museo Accademia to view Michangelo's David. Accademia is a much more modest museum. It was designed to house the statue of David. I'm stopping for dinner. There's more to come.

Florence, Italy

Sat 20 Feb. Sheila and I were up early today, a travel day. We paid our bill and said, ``ciao´´ to our new musician friends. We had developed a genuine fondness for these guys during our short stay here. We met an older Italian couple while waiting for the bus to take us to Florence. They were interested in our travels. They were really a sweet old couple. I was reminded again that it's the people who've made this trip memorable. We had no trouble getting to Florence. We entered the city. I thought after my driving experience yesterday, I was glad to be on public transportation. There was no way I was going to find downtown. A helpful American from New Jersy heard Sheila and I discussing how to find the train station. She directed us right to it. We have decided to change our train reservations so we can travel through the Alps during the daylight. We will have to sacrifice the €26 reservation fee for changing, but we both feel it's worth it. We stepped up to the ticket window expecting the same treatment we' received from the agents in the past. To our suprize and delight, this woman was different. She smiled asked how she could be helpful. We explained what we wanted, and she was creative routing us through Milan and Zurich. When she'd finished, she wished us a good voyage and blew us a kiss. Not to take the credit, but I thought that maybe our energy was changing the ticket agent culture. Who knows? We checked our packs at the train terminal and set out to find our hotel without carrying our bags. We had no reservations and in case we had to look around, we didn't want to have to carry our luggage all over Florence.On our way out of the terminal, we witnessed an attempted arrest of a pickpocket. I say attempted because the young man ran when the police hailed him, and he was fast. Then I guess you have to be if your going to play artfull dodger. And, yes, pickpockets are real. The lesson: keep your valuables close. We found Hotel Dali after a few minutes walk--a hotel recommended by Rick Steves. We opened the 8ft oaken doors, walked up several flights of narrow stairs, through another set of doors into the foyer. You would have thought we were Marco's long lost rich relatives. Before we even said anything, he greated us with warm enthusiasm. We asked him for accommodations. ``Of course,´´ he said, and began the paperwork. He asked us where we were from, what we were doing, how long we'd been married showing genuine interest. When we explained we were retired--``Now, it's your turn,´´ he said. When we told him we were celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary, he fell all over himself congratulating us. It was great. So we had a room for the two night we were in Florence at a good rate too€50 per night. I'm sure we would have more difficulty had this been high season, but today, I'll take it. On Marco's recommendation, we went to this little panini shop around the corner. It may well have been the best sandwich I've ever eaten-- a bagette with sundried tomatoes, spinach, cheese and pork. Very tastey. We walked back to the train station to get our luggage. Things are very close in Europe. The town centers are small, and the sights are close. Most of the time walking is no big deal. We walked around a bit to get our berrings. Then on Marco's recommendation, we went to this wonderful local restaurant: Zio gigi. It was one of those family owned local restaurants that serve traditional fare that Sheila and I seek out. This was superior. We got there about 20:00 just a little earlier than the locals. The waiter greated everyone like family which they may well have been. He'd hug the ladies and pat the men on the back. Some men he evidently knew well, he kissed once on each side of the face. Then he'd break into song. It was quite entertaining. We took a long time with our meal eating and drinking way too much, but we had a great time. Sunday 21 Feb. Sheila and I awoke to churchbells and sunshine: our anniversary. We were out early because we were not going to be in Florence that long, and we wanted to see as much as possible. Many shops are closed Sundays, but we were able to find an open coffee shop.We had a little breakfast still feeling full from last night's dinner. Then we were out to see the sights of Florence, and they are many. We had made reservations for the Uffizi Museum. It comes highly recommended, but it was a little disappointing. Not that the works of art aren't great--Michaelangelo,DaVinci, Botecelli, Raphael, but the room where most of these works were displayed was closed for renovation. We've run into this on several occasions, and I wondered if this is one of the prices you pay for traveling off season. We did see some fabulous works though, and the museum is arranged chronologically from the 13th century through the 18th century so you can see the developement of art through the Renaissance. Next we went to the church that is the burial place of Michelangelo and ironically enough, Galleleo. He spent the last years of his life under house arrest threatened with excommunication if he didn't recant his agreement with Copernicus--the heliocentric theory of the solar system. So Galleleo dies, and many years after the fact the Catholic Church... Well, I guess anyone can change his mind. There is also a remnant of Francis of Assisi's robe--a genuine religious artifact. The thrill of the day possilby even the trip was going to the Accademia museum to view Michelangelo's David. The museum was built just to house this work, and it is amazing. It's highlighted in a rotunda. It's about 20ft tall on its pedestal. Breathtaking. Everyone has seen pictures of this statue, but there no words do describe the impressions. The statue depicts David in the moment just after he'slain Goliath. He's holding the sling, but the sling is held in such a way that you have to look for it. And David looks so relaxed and at ease that, in David's mind it was faith that slew the giant and not the work of man. How does one convey that in stone? Come see it for yourself. In addition to David, there are a number of works unfinished by Michelangelo found in his studio. You can see the chisel marks perhaps those of the master himself. It was really humbling. That night, tired and not wishing to look for another restaurant, Sheila and I went back to Zio gigi. It was very good again, but the singing waiter was not there. It was fine though. It made our anniversary dinner more intimate.

Siena,Italy

Wed 17 Feb. We are sharing the hotel with 12-15 musicians who are here at the university for up to six weeks studying jazz. They are very entertaining. We joined the for breakfast this morning.The oldest of them was turning thirty today, and everyone was giving him grief over his advanced age. We spent a relaxed day just exploring Siena. The town is a maze of narrow streets whose organization defies logic. LSD must have been discovered much sooner than believed because I'm sure the 11th century Siena city planners were on it. I have been lost so many times and maps are no help. We went back to Il Campo the city center sat in the sun, read about the history of this lovely city, and watched the people. This is really a Renaissance city. The town hall, the political center tower is taller than the church over three hundred feet. They have this wonderful custom: each year, in July, a horserace is held in the square. Hay bales and barracades are erected. Seventeen young men one from each of the seventeen neighborhoods in Siena dress in the colors of their neighborhoods and race three laps for the glory of friends and family. Thousands witness this. Bets are made, and it must be a real party with the bragging rights going to the winner and the alcohol purchased by the loosers. We went to the Duomo which by the way was freezing cold despite the sunshine outside. The Bernini Chapel was closed for renovaton which was the reason we went. I was disappointed. Oh wellthat's off season for you. The church was left unfinished. Originally it was built to overshadow the church in rival city, Florence, but work was stopped in 1348 because of the Black Death that wiped out one third of the city. We spent some time emailing. Cybercafes are not cheap. €3.50 per hour. I type slowly so I have to use these sites judiciously. We had a lovely dinner. On Carlotta's recommendation, we went to this little restaurant that doesn't open until 19:30 pretty late for early eating Americans. We had a great time. The waiter spoke no English so we just asked him to bring us something that was a traditional local dish. Don't ask how we commuicated that. It didn't seem like it, but it took us over two hours to order and eat a salad, entree, dessert, and local wine of course. Thurs 18 Feb. After breakfast, we went to a local laundrymat and did some wash. It cost €9.00 for three loads washed and dried. We walked to the train station. We've learned to navigate the city better. We discovered that the only train to Stuttgart from Siena is at night. Which means that we'll be traveling through the Swiss Alps at night-another disappointment. We made the reservations for Saturday. We shopped at the local deli for dinner: stiffed tomatoes, spinach, and roasted onions. We ate in the common diningroom, and Pedro, a Brazialian student here studying Italian offered us some Brunella, a famous Tuscan red wine. After dinner we had another wonderful cultural experience. We've made friends with several of the Jazz students. Tonight there is a performance featuring some of the sudents and their teachers. It began at 21:00. We arrive early and got good seats.For the next two hours we were entertained at no cost professional quality jazz. One of the pianists had played with John Coltrane. It was great! Fri 19 Feb. We had breakfast with the musicians. The talk centered around last night's performance. We lingered longer than we should have because we had made arrangements to rent a car an travel through some of the Italian hill country. Balancing the time we had and the expense of the rental we decided to go to the closest town: San Gimignano. Driving in Italy s a hair raising experience made moreso because this was the stormiest day we've experienced so far-driving rain. Siena, the city planned by thirteenth century acid heads, is scary: narrow streets shared with pedestrians, impatient drivers who clearly have an urgent agenda, and traffic laws developed by anarchists. We made it to the highway and relaxed a bit. I decided to think about how to get home later. We found our way to this castle whose claim to fame was that it was built by the Sienese as a buffer against the rival Florence. There wasn't too much to see here and there were no amenities so we drove on following the map and getting more comfortable with driving. San Gimignano is a charming city with 17 towers. These towers were built by the wealthy as security against marauders. When under attack, the wealthy would climb into these things and hope the invaders would get hungary before they did. Anyway the Florentines took down all but 17. So much for castles as a buffer. Nevertheless, its a charming place. The town square has a well that is deeply grooved around the top from centuries of ropes wearing the stone as heavy water filled buckets are raised. Rain and cold became an issue. So we started to look for a place to eat. Dodging the rain,we stumbled into a nearly empty(who else but crazy Americans would be out touring an a day like today?) enotica, a wine bar that also serves a limited menu. La Cantina Convento-translated it means convent bar. Sounds like an oxymoron to me. As always, we did well. The place was great. The shopkeeper told us all about the homemade wine, the cheeses, and the traditional Tuscan soup we ordered. Sheila called it a port in a storm which it certainly was. Now, the trip home. Getting to Siena was no problem, but finding the rental place was a different issue. We wandered around ,Sheila navigating and me dodging traffic and looking for familiar landmarks. We made it without incident. I love Siena. It's an easy marriage between the old and the new: thirteenth century building mixed with modern stores, ancient customs mixed with the newest fashions and music. We had dinner at a pastaria not a dozen steps from our hotel. We talked over the next leg of our big adventure: Florence. More to come. Love to all.

Siena,Italy

Tues 16 Feb.We awoke to church bells thanks to the under employed priest. We went downstairs to greet Gina for breakfast. We packed our things then jumped not quite knowing where the ground was. We headed out across the walking bridge not knowing where we were going to atay in an unfamiliar city. Not knowing is a liberating feeling. After a short wait, we caught the bus back to Orvieto. We had some time before our train lwft so we walked into the newer part of Orvieto to shop for some food and wine for the train ride. We had a nice relaxing 1 hour 20 min ride to Siena. Now it gets really magical. After taking the usual few minutes to read the signs showing us the way to the busses. This is really a joint adventure. Sheila reads the maps; I read the signs, and we both ask questions. By the time we arrive in Siena, it is nearly dark, and it's raining hard.We find the bus buy a ticket to the city center near a hotel recommended by Rick Steves. We ask an elderly lady where we should get off, but she speaks no English. A young lady in front of us turns and in perfect English asks what were looking for. We explain and she directs us to the hotel without a problem, and It's very close so we don't have to spend too much time in the rain. We arrive at Hotel Bernini, and Carlotta, the young lady at the desk, greeted is warmly. We explain that we have no reservations and we'd like accomodations for 4 nights. She grimaces, but soon she looks up, smiles, and says she can make it work. We landed on our feet once again. She showed us to our room, brought us some wine potato chips(a common appitizer in Italy) and while the day darkened into night, Sheila and I sat in the common room overlooking this ancient city and congratulated ourselves on our travel skills and our good fortune. We were tired and hungary by this time so we set out to find dinner and more adventure. We decided to eat our leftovers from deli rather than waste it. We walkes to Il Campo, the city center. On the spur of the moment, we followed a crowd into a 17th century courtyard. It was amazing, There was a festival taken from medieval times. Children in costume danced to 15 century music--drum, pipe, and horn. The performers were all in period costumes. Soon the dancers were replaced by falconeers. The falco flew low over the audience. They brought ot owls. They too flew low over the crowd so low in fact that as I looked up, the owl's tllon scratched my nose. The birds gave way to acrobats including a woman on the tallest stilts I've ever seen. There is much ore to this event that I'm not going to describe, but the culminating act: tw young ladies who were placed on top of a table and they performend feats of flexibility and balance the like of which I'd never seen. The entire event was overseen by a king and his retinue all in period costume. It was a magical, beautiful, and thrilling experience made all the moreso because we were willing to take the risk.

Orvieto and Civita

Hi again it's me. Monday 15 Feb. I was up earlier than Sheila this morning. I showered, and while Sheila did the same, I packed. One day here was far too short a stay. We went downstairs to a little family owned restaurant, and had the typical Italian breakfast: croisants and coffee. We wished Alejandro, the waiter, farewell and went back to the room to pay our bill. People are quite interested in what we're doing. Serrina the innkeeper asked us about our travels and engaged us for a löng time. She allowed us to store our luggage for the morning while we looked the town over. We walked around this ancient city. The day was sunny and relatively warm so we strolled around outside the walls built for security over a thousand years ago. I was struck by how little we've learned. Walls never work. This place was conquered again and again, and if I can get in... We stopped into a local butcher shop and bought stuff for the bus ride to Civita: a ball of spinach the size of a baseball, a roll that looked like a small bagel, and some wild boar sausage-a local delicacy. We visited the local duomo(cathederal) which has carvings done on the front of the church depicting everything from the creation of man to the last judgement. It's impressive. The church is built on this site as the result of a miracle. As the story goes, a priest skeptical of the factuality of communion--turning bread into the body of Christ? C'mon. Well, he was offering communion, and the bread started to bleed down his arms and onto the sleeves of his robe. The pope happened to be nearby, heard the story, came to see it, and ordered a church built on the spot. Pieces ofthe bloody cloth are enshrined in the cathedral. That's the story anyway. While we waited for the bus, we ate our lunch and drank some wine from a waterbottle. All we really needed to complete the stereotype was a shopping cart. Earlier we had purchased our bus ticket from a local tabacci shop (that's tobacco for those of you who don't speak Italian as well as I do) Anyway, these places are all over in Italy and they seem to exist for the purpose of selling tobacco naturallyenough, magazines, bus/train tickets and as an employment venue for people who have some genetic defect--no personality. They never seem to smile. They act as if you're bothering them by asking to buy a ticket somewhere. It reminds me of trying to get a part at a Sears service center. It's been quite entertaining, and Sheila an I have laughed about it more than once. We boarded the bus to Bagnoregio di Civita. By the time we got to the town, it had clouded up and began to rain. As usual we had to orient ourselves to a new environment. Once we did we schlepped our bags the roughly 1.5 kilometers to the city of Civita. This place was once an Etruscan city connected to Bagnoregio, but it was built on sandstone. Over the centuries, the sandstone eroded leaving Civita standing atop a mesa. No vehicles are allowed in the town that supports all of nine permanent residents That's right, nine. We had reservations at the little Civita hotel and restaurant. It has 3 or 4 rooms--small rooms. We were greeted by Franco Salla a larger than life guy wearing a Yankees baseball cap. In a voice too loud for the room he said, ``Come in. Come in. Take off your packs. Have some wine. Have some wine. Nina, get some wine.´´ he boomed to the young lady .Our reputation had evidently preceeded us. Just as I was beginning to think he said everything twice he engaged us in conversation asking us where we were from where we were going and how long we planned to travel in Europe. We had a good conversation with just enough ribald humor to keep him entertained. We polished off a liter of wine at no charge, and he left leaving us with Gina, the only innkeeper. Sheila and I had the place to ourselves. We went out to look the town over. That took us about thirty minutes. The town is picturesque. I'll give it that, but it is not worth an overnight unless you find Franco irresistable. At 19:00 our dinner was ready lovingly prepared by Gina. We were alone in the place. It was kind of creepy really--ancient stone walls, a huge soot stained fireplace, great wooden beams, and pictures of Franco with Rick Steves around hanging on the walls. Dinner was great. We took Gina's recommendation:bread, wine, Pasta al mushrooms, medallions of pork in a delicious sauce. The dinner is over and there's nothing to do except listen to the churchbells. The church is occupied by a solitary priest. Beginning at about 6:oo, he rings the bell every 15 minutes. He ministers to 9 people, rings the churchbell every 15 minutes. Whatever he's paid, I'm sure it's too much.More to come. Love to you all.

Sorrento to Orvieto

Sunday 14 Feb Valentines Day. We skipped our breakfast in the hostel for better fare in Sorrento. We have made friends with Dominico and his wife Maria, the proprietors of Mimi´s. Sheila wanted something special from Dominico´s bakery. She asked him what it should be. In a rather dramatic fashion, Dominico asked, What would you like? What experience would you like to have in your mouth? In just as dramatic fashion, Sheila described just what she was after: something substantial but not too sweet and not too heavy. She described her desired experience in more detail than I am giving here, but it suprised me to learn that there were all these combinations of gastric experiences. Dominico brought out three confections and they were fit perfectly what Sheila described. It was great. Sporting heavy packs (remind me to pack lighter next time) umbrellas in hand we headed for Orvieto, one of the towns north of Rome described as hill country. We caught our train to Naples but missed our connection by minutes. We had a two hour wait so we started to go into Naples for a coffee, but Naples has a terrible reputation, and I can see why. The unemployment rate here is 30% among the young. There are beggars, panhandlers, and theives all over. Everyone including Italians had warned us to be careful. After a brief foray into the city, we returned to thr train station to wait it out. We ate a bite at McDonald´s That´s right, McDonald´s. It has a bathroom for God´s sake seemingly the only bathroom in Naples. It took .50 euro to use it. (always carry change). Finally, we caught the 13:07 to Orvieto. Again we watched the Italian country roll past from our first class train window. Now, lest you think we´re ugly Americans flaunting our wealth and riding first class, we are required, when we get a eurail pass to purchase first class. We made the most of it. In our private little compartment, we opened a bttle of wine and sipped it as we went. European train travel is truely civilized. We had to change trains which we did with no problem. While waiting, we met a couple of old ladies from the USA, talked to them awhile, then met another couple from Isreal who were on their honeymoon. They were in the travel industry, and they took every opportunity to convince us to travel to Jerusalem. They told us how well the Israelies and the Palastinians were getting along, how safe we would be, and how much fun we would have. They were nice and pleasent, but after they left, I told Sheila there was no way, If I cannot feel secure in Naples, there is not a chance, I would feel safe in the most hotly contested real estate on the planet. Finally ,we were in Orvieto, the new section that is, because old Orvieto sits on a hill, a mesa really, and we had to take a funicular. I know, it sound like some skin growth you´d have removed, but it´s a tram up to the old city. All of a sudden, we were in an ancient walled Etruscan city. It felt every bit of two thousand years old: tile roofs, weathered paint and doors hinged with cast iron ancient rings hanging on the weathered stone for teathering horses, very few vehicles. We found our hotel not always an easy task. In fact, it´s sometimes the most difficult part of getting to a new town. There are no neon lights or signs except for some little brass thing hanging flush to the wall along with an address numbering system that is not sequential. Nevertheless, we found our place: La Magnolia B&B, rang the bell, we identified ourselves through the speaker and we were greated by a charming young lady, Serrina, who made us feel we were family immediately. She took us up to our little room overlooking the street, filled us in on places to see and restaurants. Sheila and I went out to look around. We were already regretting that we had not booked this place for longer. We walked the cobble stone streets and watched the people out for the evening passagiorno- the daily walk. People we´ve seen all over do this: they go out for a walk to be with their friends and family in good weather and bad. It´s a wonderful custom. It gives you a feeling that all of Italy is a big family. More later. Love to you all.

Sorrento to Orvieto

Again, more Sorrento

Im writing this pst from Stuttgart, Gemany 25 Feb, but I am going to catch up with what we have done so far: Sat 13 Feb A simple uncomplicated day, but interesting nonetheless. After breakfast, Sheila and I headed straight for Mimis, a local pastery shop and coffee house. We tried one of Dominico`s doughnuts Very different in texture and sweetness than the American equivalent. We ad a beautiful sunny day one of the few we`ve had since arriving in Italy. We were looking forward to the trip to Salerno down the Amalfi coast argueably one of the most picturesque coaslines in the world. We waited for the SITA bus, and met a couple from San Diego going part way with us. There seem to be alot of Americans in Italy. That`s good because we can keep the Japanese company. They`re in plentiful supply too. The ride down the Amalfi coast is a thrill not so much because of the view but because of the ride. This is a one lane road most of the way. There is no way a bus can negotiate this road, but some how they do. The bus must honk to warn oncoming drivers on blind curves of impending doom. Often drivers ours included must brake sharply to avoid collision. Inching by oncoming traffic, passing by trucks with fractions of centimeters to spare, motorscooters, sportcars passing us to get ahead, all happens while clinging to a cliff 500 feet above the Mediterranian Sea. It was hair raising, and I loved it. The Amalfi coast is beautiful, but no moreso than our oun Northern California coast. What makes Amalfi so popular are the villages and homes that cling to the hillsides.It is truely spectacular. It is a long ride however. Three hours each way from Solerno and back of course takes all day on a bus. What it cost us was the ability to see Paestum south of Salerno. Paestum is the site of some of the best ancient Greek ruins in the world. I wa disappointed to have missed it. Were I to do this trip again, I would take the bus to the town of Amalfi, go back to Sorrento, only a couple of hours. Then I wold take the autostrada to Paesum enabeling us to see both sights. Travel is about learning and making choices about what you want to see. this issue will coe up again as I cintinue this narrative. When we got back to the hostel well after dark. Thr driver for some reason dropped us off before the schedule stop. He just said, Sorrento? OK, here, and he opened the door. One other person, Sheila and I had to get off. Sheila and I didn`t know where we were. We wandered around finally getting oriented. We came back into town to a town full of people out walking, vendors installs selling everything from tee shirts to sausages, leatherwear, hats seemingly everything, and none of this stuff was here when we left this morning. We found our way through the throng, and we stopped at the local market for dinner: wine, tuna stuffed peppers abot the siz of a silver dollar, olives, proscuito, artichokes-a meal fit for Ulysses himself. I brought the tabe in from the terrace, and we had dinner in the room and talked over the day past and the day to come. We leave tomorrow for another adventure. I hope all is well. It certaily is here. Love to youall.

More Sorrento

Thurs 12Feb. Sheila and I got up for the breakfast included in the price of the hostel. It was definitely forgettable not because of the food because of the coffee. We have been spoiled by the coffee availabe in the hotels and coffee shops. It's always freshly made, but this was from a machine. Well, not a problem. We'll just find another local coffee shop and indulge ourselves. After breakfast, we walked down to the local fishing village for alook at the local color and our first view of the Mediterranian. This is the site of Odysses' encounter with the sirens. It is reflected in the local artwork: the wooden inlays and the ceramics. Next day we walked the streets of Sorrento. It's a charming place hugging the Amalfi coast: It is said that Enrico Carruso spent his last weeks here because he considered it so beautiful. To save money and experience more of the local fare, we go into food shops,alimentaria, to get food for dinner. It's great stuff, but we always have to eat it cold. No micowaves. Oh the hardships. Next day, we had an amazing experience. The trip so far has been about the rock stars of history: the kings, the popes, the great artists, but today was different. We went to Pompeii, and today was about the people. Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD burying the city of 20,000 and preserving a Roman city at the height of the Pax Romana. The narrow cobbled streets are rutted from the passage of centuries of wagon commerce. The shops lined the streets. We wen tinto homes where the frescoes were still visible. We went to theatres where people entertained themselves with drama, comedy or gladitorial contests. We walked in the footsteps of the people. We even went into a brothel with frescoes depicting the menu of services. The entire experience was very enilghtening. The city is set overlooking the Bay of Naples and rests in the shadow of Vesuvius. Beautiful. We were freezing when we got back. Stopping into our local wine shop, Carlo, the proprietor, said, "Cold?" and without hesitation poured us each a glass of limoncella, a local lemon liquor. We had a friend. Bye for now. Love to you all.