The Girls World Tour

Happy Endings......New Beginnings

2010-01-02T04:35:00.001-08:00

We had a happy ending in Thailand.....not the kind you get at the massage places, but our own Girls World Tour happy ending. It was a perfect way for Molly and I to end our 3 month "travelling" adventure with some time "vacationing" with family and friends.

Our travel time has been epic, adventuresome and went amazingly without disasterous incident or illness or mother/daughter wars. I am feeling very thankful and blessed to have had this moment in time to experience the richness of life on the road. It was a big plan, a chance of a lifetime and often hard work, but the choice to make it happen will never be regretted. As dear Maryann says, "you never regret what you do, only what you don't do". Well, I may have a couple things I have done that I regret, but they are tiny in the scope of all the regrets I do not have.

As we sit in the London airport, awaiting our flight to Seattle, I am reflecting on all the things we have done and looking at all the pictures we have taken and remembering all the new friends we have met. I believe Molly has grown in this time in many ways and I think the travels and memories will be worth more to her in a lifetime than a quarter at college. And lucky me, I was there too.

Both of us return to start a new time in our lives. Molly will move into WWU the day after we return and registers for classes and starts her higher education learning as soon as we get back. I return to a change in lifestyle with no more kids at home and a new, all most full-time, job. I have some fear about the future, but also welcome what ever comes with an open mind and an optimistic attitude.......one door closes, a new door opens, happy endings and new beginnings.

Good Bye 2009!

2010-01-02T04:15:00.000-08:00

We flew back to Bangkok on New Year's Eve morning to spend our last couple of days on the beach near the airport. Cookie, Nee and Thee graciously returned to Bangkok and picked us up at the airport and we all drove a ways south to Baen Sung beach. We all booked nice rooms in the resort across the street from the beach.

More sunshine, more massages, more Thai food, more laughter. The kids and I layed around the pool and Cookie and family avoided the sun......we avoided the beach, it was just too crazy. Baen Sung is a tourist havens for Thai's from Bangkok. The beach was packed with families under umbrellas or in the water, with local food vendors and fresh bbq seafood. The streets were packed with cars, cars that just seem to park where they choose to stop, thus reducing a 4 lane street to one lane.

I argued with Nee and Thee and agreed only to go to dinner with them on New Year's if I could pay for everyone. Under duress, they agreed. I don't know if you should go against the grain like that, but in our culture, it seemed appropriate to pay after everything that they had done for us in the past couple weeks. We had dinner at a beachside, seafood restaurant. The kids drank a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label and got goofy......

After dinner, we walked thru the vendors, the food fair, listened to music and people watched before the countdown to 2010. We were just about the only white people in the crowd, it was truly a local experience. There were fireworks and flares and music playing out of pimped out cars with dancing partiers everywhere. It was an interesting night, but I missed the tradition of the Barron family New Year's and watching fireworks over Lake Whatcom.

I think 2010 is going to be a great year.

Cousin Gary

2009-12-31T10:25:00.000-08:00

After arriving back in Chiang Mai after the trek, all four of us were tired, hungry and sore. Easily resolved with nice resort, fresh dinner and two hour massage. We all rolled into our comfortable beds early and Noel booked another 2 hour massage for the morning (he is addicted).

Our only real day in the city, we chose to lay at the pool, eat, do nothing of any effort until late afternoon. After enough sun, Cousin Gary came to the resort to pick us up for a tour of Chiang Mai. Cousin Gary is somebody’s cousin. On Darrel’s side of the family…..we have always referred to him as Cousin Gary, but really he is the son of Grandpa Bob’s cousin Burton Glazer. So maybe Cousin Gary is Darrel’s second cousin and maybe he is Zach and Molly’s third cousin…..I don’t know how that all works, but they have a few drips of the same blood line somewhere.

I hadn’t seen Cousin Gary for over 20 years. He has lived in Thailand for about that long and has been coming here and doing business for about 35 years. Ten years ago he married a Thai woman and now has two young children. This was the first time he had met his other “cousins”.
When I saw him, I said “Gary, you have gone gray!” and he said to me “are you still going by Mendelsohn?” and I said to him “nothing better has come up”. He is an easy going, smiling, happy, joking kind of guy and it felt easy to spend the rest of the day with him.

We all went and visited his home and remodel project (beautiful) and saw his factory where he employs 70 workers and makes gold jewelry, lots of rings for big companies……like class rings and bowling rings, and even rings that hold peoples cremated remains….I think I will have a few dozen made for when I die and all my friends can get one. He has five poodles. I know Darrel will die when he hears that, Gary just never seemed like a poodle kind of guy…..he loves them though….Anyways, he is very successful here and living a great life and is very content and settled. We may never see him back in Seattle.

He took us on a drive, for drinks at a Thai river bar and then dinner at an Italian restaurant on the river. Italian tasted pretty darn good after all the spicy Thai food……..we had a good visit and the kids enjoyed him. He drove fairly well for a white guy in Thailand, but did say at one point driving “ I am surrounded by assholes”……..and made us all laugh.

Pooh Eco-Trek, Chiang Mai, Thailand

2009-12-29T17:39:00.000-08:00

Words can not describe the last three days spent in the mountains near the Burma border.

The pictures will have to tell the story here. In short, we hiked around 4 hours a day through jungle, rivers, valleys, bamboo and rice fields. We stayed with a hill tribal village called the Karen Tribe one night and in a bamboo hut on a river the second night. We ate frog, fresh produce, drank rice whisky, slept in mosquito netting, used primitive outhouses and bathed in the river.

For a girl who "loves not camping", I think I did pretty well, came out with only minor scrapes and bruises and went temporarily native. However, I was glad to come back to a massage, a soft and warm bed and western toilets.

Sawadee Pee Mai (Merry Christmas!)

2009-12-26T10:19:00.000-08:00

In Thailand, everyone knows it is Christmas, but it is not really celebrated. There are decorations around, but mostly for the tourists and visitors. The Thais get more excited about the New Year.

I decorated the dining room table with a fold out Christmas tree, tacky garland and Santa pictures. I had one gift for each person and Molly played Christmas music on her ipod. We had another huge breakfast and within half an hour our celebration was over. But we had a busy day ahead.

Molly and Cookie made the famous and popular “no-bake” cookies and covered them in red and green M&Ms. Zach, Noel and I borrowed motorcycles and headed out on a ride. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. Zach kept telling me to get on the right side of the road (the wrong side, or different side, but not what I was used to). I couldn’t find the blinkers for turning, but Noel said nobody uses them anyways. It was hard for me to remember how to shift and the brakes didn’t really work. I did find the horn though and I used that a lot. Since everyone stared at us as outsiders from another planet, I just honked and waved and smiled, getting the same in return. We all returned in one piece.

We had all been invited to lunch at Nee’s cousin Gunika’s home. Even though we had just had breakfast, we went to have lunch and meet more family and see the house being built by Gunika and her husband. This new house is huge. Maybe 8,000 square feet….a swimming pool in back and pools in front for lotus and koi. The hallways are very wide, there are 4 sets of stairways, it is very open and airy, but of course, they don’t have to worry about a heating bill. Rooms have individual air conditioners, and the halls and open areas tend to be warm. I hope I get back to see the finished product. Gunika and I talked about an arranged marriage between her daughter, Aim and Zach. We laughed and joked and developed a perfect plan.

Nee and Gunika arranged for us to ride mopeds in the afternoon and head back to the elephant village area to watch the elephants have their afternoon baths. I actually got back on a mellow, female elephant and rode her into the lake! I went up and down in the water with her, nearly slipped off a couple times and waited for her to spray me with water, but she never did. We fed the creatures sugar cane and watermelon after their baths and talked about bringing an elephant home for a pet. Cookies family had tried to buy an elephant twice. The first deal they backed out of after the elephant killed the trainer. The second elephant got into a pile of rice and ate so much he died before the deal was sealed. Too much work in elephants.

To wrap up our Christmas, we went to a restaurant for karaoke. Hesitant, it is a popular local activity, so we all went along with it. Cookie and her dad are both really good singers, so of course they are comfortable getting up on stage. I finally succumbed to coercion and sang with Cookie and then her dad wanted me to sing a Frank Sinatra song with him……argh…..I hadn’t even had any wine! I figured I had nothing to lose (except my dignity). Zach and Noel got up and sang an old Creedence Clearwater song and a Beach Boys song. Such talent. It was hysterical. We ended the evening by singing Jingle Bells and We Wish you a Merry Christmas.

I have had two new experiences today which I may never do again: elephant bathing and karaoke.

Elephant Village

2009-12-26T10:04:00.000-08:00

We got up early to get to the local Elephant Village and show. I was crossing my fingers to get the opportunity to ride an elephant, regardless of the book I had just finished called The Elephant Suite……people getting stomped to death by angry elephants.

This is how Nee and Cookie make things happen: as we get closer to the village, we start passing men and boys riding elephants alongside the road on their way to participate in the show. We were thrilled just to see these massively huge creatures so close. Nee pulls over the car, a lot of Thai is spoken and she tells us the men will give us rides into the village. Wow. I throw Cookie the camera, grab my hat and we are ready to go.

Zach is first. The elephant sits in the soil, then goes down on his front feet and Zach manages to climb aboard. Noel seems to get on easy, until the elephant lurches up and I can see the look of panic in this face momentarily, until he settles in. Molly is a bit chicken at first, but she also knows she might not get another chance, so she gracefully straddles the beast and takes a couple model photo shots in between little screams. I struggle to get on my elephant……Nee pushes, the owner pulls, I climb on the elephants legs, I try to throw my leg over the top. I am laughing so hard I almost wet my pants. Cookie is documenting the whole humbling moment. I finally get on, but I am pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my thigh.

So, riding a horse stretches your leg muscles. Riding an elephant really stretches your legs. It was so exciting….imagine, being in Thailand, riding an elephant! Zach has added elephants to the list of things he is allergic to. His poor legs immediately broke out in hives.

The elephant show was great. We were the only white people in the crowd, it was mostly Thai school children from neighboring provinces. The elephants did tricks; balanced on stools, painted pictures, played soccer, stood on their hind legs and did the hula hoop. Noel and I were picked to lay on the ground and get back massages by the elephants. Molly got lifted up by an elephant trunk and carried around the arena. The school kids thought we were silly. We thought we were silly. Nee and Cookies surely thought we were silly.

That night we all went out to a restaurant for dinner and Cookies extended family joined us along with a couple cousins. We went to a Chinese festival and met more cousins…..everywhere we go, we meet more cousins. I wanted another massage, to heal my poor pulled thigh muscle. Zach refused, as his elephant hives were too gross.

Lost Photos

2009-12-26T09:55:00.000-08:00

I can’t believe it, but yes, I deleted a whole day of pictures……a traveling mishap of the worst kind…..good thing it wasn’t the whole Thailand trip! Nee offered to take us around to relive the lost day, but I knew the kids would never agree to repeat our travels and stage our photo shoots…..Pictures lost, but not the memories.

We had pictures of the following highlights, that I can not replicate:
· Picking out fabric for Zach’s first suit
· Silk making at local village
· Dying of silk thread
· The tiniest kitten in the world
· Thai Thai climbing in the doorway
· Tin Tin doing the splits

Regardless of loosing the pictures, it was fun being introduced to Surin by Cookie and her mom. They are great at making things happen and planning all the arrangements that make traveling so challenging for a visitor.

We all drove to this place in the countryside where they produce some of the nicest silk in the world. Nice enough to supply Bill Gates and his new home on Lake Washington. Here, they but the silk thread from local village people. They dye it in big boiling pots, using different natural vegetation for color source. They have large covered floors where women work eight hours a day passing thread through the loom to make a pattern. In eight hours, they produce a few inches of silk fabric. Nee had the boys each pick out a tie and Molly and I picked out a scarf. We will enjoy these gifts from Surin.

The country roads are so fun to drive around on. You can see how other families live and the feel the flavor of the culture. Dogs wander around, lay in the streets, under cars, in the shade…..chickens graze freely on whatever is near and occasionally dart across the roads with their babies. Once in awhile, you can spot an elephant in a field, a local man transporting some pile of something on their very small motorbike, truckloads of Buddhist monks, water buffalo and strange, long eared cow are everywhere, sometimes coming up out of a ditch. Temples too, lots of temples.

The Thais drive crazy, a t least by my standards. First, they are on the WRONG side of the road. Second, dividing lines mean nothing. If there is room to pass between oncoming traffic, it is done. Mopeds, tuk tuks and walkers often line the sides of the roads. There is a lot of honking going on. The honking here is more a quick warning than a byproduct of a short temper. I was shocked at Cookie’s aggressive behavior on the roads, as her personality is so calm and patient.

Nee likes to cook and is an expert at it. Extended family tend to drop by around the dinner hour. For dinner we had curries, rice, stir fries and fruit. We drink fruit juices, coconut milk (if you want) and lots of water. Nobody in the family drinks alcohol, coffee or soda. We Americans have a lot of vices.

Cookie, Nee, Thee, Tin Tin, Thai Thai

2009-12-25T03:05:00.000-08:00

All of us, Zach, Noel, Molly, Cookie and I arrived at Cookie's parents home in Surin, Thailand in the early morning and promptly went to bed......we didn't see the town, house or hardly her parents until the next morning.....

Cookie's mother is Nee, her father is Thee. Her mother speaks very good English, her father smiles a lot......they live in a home they built and it houses themselves and their business operation which is rice wholesaling, if I understand it right. A big pile of paddy rice is outside and is often covered by pidgeons getting a little snack or the family dog, when he chooses to sleep on the top of the mound in the shade. They also have a white cockatiel. The extended family is all nearby, one son and his family and a daughter and her family. Tin Tin and Thai Thai are nicknames for Cookies' two nephews. Many cousins and relatives live in this small village outside of Surin and I am starting to think it is really a village of Cookie's family.

Their house is very big and kind of a Japanese style, with sliding doors and rice paper and bamboo. The four of us sleep upstairs in huge rooms and have a huge bathroom the size of my living room.....they have two maids and two gardeners. I explained to Nee that in America, that is not common unless families are very wealthy. Here, it is very common. The dining room and kitchen are huge. And the food......is plentiful and healthy and very good.....we are stuffed all the time with three regular meals....

We are treated so kindly. They have planned their days around whatever we want to do. If we want to go for a moped ride, they get us mopeds, if we want to go to a tailor, they find us a tailor, if we want a massage, they arrange a massage. The family is proud of their country and want to share it and be excellent hosts. They do an outstanding job of that.

I have definitely learned the benefits of traveling to a place where the family is ingrained in the local activities and opportunities. We have had the chance to do and see things that other tourists may never be able to do. It has really made me think about the generousity of this family and the country.

Massage Humor

2009-12-23T03:47:00.000-08:00

Cookie and I work up a plan for our final day in Bangkok that involves less time in the van. Travelling taking into account 3 additional people is definitely more challenging than what I have been used to the last three months. I tend to go into the caretaker role trying to make sure everyone is happy instead of letting everybody fend for themselves…..however, I have to say this group is pretty easy going and agreeable and as long as they are fed often, they are great.

We did a Bangkok errand and picked up my tailored suit and dress. We went back to the King’s Palace so Zach and Noel could get an ounce of culture and see the Thai buildings and the Jade Buddha. The five of us took a tuk tuk to the market on Khoa Sung Road (or something like that) to go shopping (again).

But the best part of the day was getting a massage. All five of us, Cookie, Molly, Noel, Zach and I got massages all at once and all in the same room….actually, the boys on one side of the curtain and the girls on the other…….if you know the boys and their humor, you might imagine some of the lines being said:

· Don’t worry, it is not contagious
· I don’t want anybody touching my feet
· I’m ticklish
· I thought I was suppose to take my boxers off
· I am not afraid of physical contact
· The curry is kicking in
· I win the “white ass” award

I can’t say it was the most relaxing massage I have had in Thailand, but it sure was the most fun.

Risking our lives, we hired tuk tuks to take us across town to where we were going to go to some Thai Boxing that night. We found it was the only thing in Bangkok that wasn’t dirt cheap, so we decided to go to a nearby night market for dinner and shopping (again). When we walked into the market area, Molly and I perked back up and Noel and Zach had the “oh no, here we go again” look in their eyes. Needless to say, we skipped more shopping and just had a great dinner in the big hall food court with a half liter of beer.

Late this night, we all pack up our stuff at the Bangkok house and head to Surin, the town where Cookie lives with her parents in their real house. It is a 5 hour drive and we will get there at about 4 am. That is the benefit of a driver, for sure.

You Can't Judge a Book by the Cover

2009-12-23T03:15:00.000-08:00

I woke up the Zach and Noel (the boys) around 10 so we could get going on our day…….we had all decided to go to Pattaya Beach, the closest beach to Bangkok. I wanted the boys to see the beautiful beaches of Thailand and have a relaxing, rest full day before starting the push to cram as much as possible into a 10 day trip on the other side of the world.

Because Bangkok is so hugely, grotesquely, awfully, disgustingly huge, AND the traffic is so nasty, annoyingly slow and congested, it took us over 2 hours to get there (man, I miss Bellingham traffic)…..It took another hour to catch a ferry to a nearby island, and another hour to find motorcycle drivers to drive us across the island to the beach. Fun though…….especially that motorcycle ride…..3 of us on one, making a parade up and over the steep hill to Sam Beach. By the time we arrived, it was 3:30.

Not nearly as beautiful as the beaches of Phuket and Krabi areas, but still warm water, hot sun and the luxury of walking in the sand and people watching. The guys made jokes about the European men in their speedos and the old grey haired men with their beautiful, young Thai girlfriends. I loved being back in the company of Zach and Noel, with their sharp wit and sarcasm.

Cookie took us to a beautiful seafood restaurant on the shores of Pattaya. We tried lots of different Thai foods including soft, small crab that Molly said were not “normal” crab. Although it looked like any other vegetable, Zach mistakenly ate a whole, dried, red pepper with his dish and I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. We gave him piles of rice, gallons of water and his throat and mouth still burned….he kept eating although he said all his taste buds had been fried. MaHa eats meals with us also. He eats a lot. I call him a garbage can and he laughs and scrapes the rest of the food onto his plate.

For the grand finally of the boys first day in Thailand, we all go to the Tiffany Show. The largest, most famous transvestite show in the country, exhibits the dancing talents of the top lady men around. The entire cast is men….I mean woman. Born man, but now woman. Half man, half woman. Beautiful woman with the most amazing bodies. The Tina Turner act was my favorite. Zach was scared to go to the bathroom because he didn’t know who would be in there. I think both boys will pay more attention to the pretty girls on the streets and will remember the Tiffany Show.

The Wait is Over

2009-12-23T03:00:00.000-08:00

We, kind of sadly, left our resort at Ao Nang. I said my thank you’s to the staff, gave them each a tip and told them to keep practicing their English. I don’t think they understood much of my gibberish, but they smiled a lot.

Molly and I took a ferry boat back to Phuket, actually transferred ferries out in the ocean. My luggage was getting tossed from one boat to another and I took a big step and landed safely on the other side. Interesting process, never allowable in the United States. Anyways, as always, we arrive safe and added another story to our list.

In the morning, we flew from Phuket to Bangkok. We collect our luggage and head out to meet Cookie, our Thai friend and hostess, who is picking us up. Not just picking us up like you might expect, but picking us up in style with her “driver”. Cookie’s family, and many other families in Thailand, have a driver. Her family has a large, new, van that can hold nine people and a driver or 3 girls, the driver and lots of luggage. It was so great to see her again! She is as cute as ever and even after three years, she is familiar to us. Her hair is longer and she seems thinner than when she lived in Bellingham, where she ate ice cream and fast food all the time, but overall, the same bubbly, sweet personality.

We spent the afternoon at a weekend market shopping (again) Great bargains, t-shirts for $5, dresses $15, bras 2 for $3. Can’t beat it. Now we need a new suitcase. We visited, had a nice lunch, took naps, visited again and then the driver, MaHa, took us back to the airport to pick up Zach and Noel. Yeah! I was so excited to them.

At the market, we had bought matching t-shirts and santa hats. We wore them to the airport to make sure the boys wouldn’t miss finding us……and of course, we stood out loud and clear in the crowds of Asian, dark haired, non-santa hat wearing or matching t-shirt wearing group of picker uppers. The boys had had a long flight from Seattle via Seoul. They were tired, we were tired, so very quickly we found our way to bed in Cookie’s Bangkok house. All had arrived in one place, at one time, safe and sound. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Local Color

2009-12-19T17:45:00.000-08:00

I wish I could capture more of the lifestyle of the Thailand I have seen on camera. It is hard to take pictures of people without feeling a bit like a voyeur or radical tourist. If I can sneak a shot, I might try. I got caught by a monk at the top of Tiger Temple and I was horrified. I need to pray to the Apologetic Buddha.

After sitting around lazily by the pool and at the beach, Molly and I finally decided to move…..we headed to the Tiger Temple Caves to climb the 1,257 stairs to the top of a hill. Not just normal stairs. Steep, big stairs. At some point, the monks put in concrete stairs on the side of the hill. In the past, they had climbed only with the aid of ropes to the top of the hill, where they prayed and meditated. The monks in training live in the area in nearby caves. No wonder they were all so skinny and dark, as they climb the stairs daily as a part of their routine.

Great views from the top of the climb. Shoes off, quiet, respectful and a beautiful, natural setting for worship. Almost makes me want to be a Buddhist. I would miss Christmas though….

Molly and I contributed to the local color ourselves that night. We met two young men at the resort from Sweden that we befriended….Bjorn and Tobias. They came as white as snow. We all went to dinner that night at a sushi restaurant. There was a trio of musicians playing guitar and singing~they were cousins from the Phillipines. They played familiar music and we sang along and guessed the names of the artists and had a great evening. I think we became more entertaining than the band and we were certainly having more fun!

By the morning, Bjorn and Tobias were quite red. Sunburned. BBQ. “Tourist tattoo” they call it. I call it “local color”.

Monkey Pattern

2009-12-19T16:23:00.000-08:00

Some how the monkeys of Tiger Cave Temple, deserved their own page. Mostly, because I took so many pictures of them, they just were so cute and cracked me up.....but they had a vicious side too.

The monkeys have overtaken the area here. They are known to steal food from tourists and we had been warned. The garbage cans are in caged areas (just like keeping out bears) and the local vendors keep a careful watch on everything and carry around sticks. The monkey population exceeds the dog and cat population, whom sit passively and watch the monkey wars.

We were just ready to ascend the 1257 stairs up to the temple with our camera and water in hand. A monkey ran up to Molly and grabbed her water bottle. She screamed. He hissed. He proceeded to sit on the stairs and untwist the cap and drain her water out while looking her straight in the eye. Monkey karma? Definately a monkey pattern.

Islands, Fishies and Monkey Pee

2009-12-19T06:19:00.000-08:00

The "islands" are for the four different islands we went to on a longtail boat. The "fishies" are for all the fish we saw snorkeling and off the boat. The "monkey pee", well that is for the monkey that went to the bathroom on Molly.

We joined Marty (from Las Vegas, teaching law in Laos and India, caught surfing for mail-order bride online) who was originally the only other guest at the resort, on a private excursion to go to 4 different islands for snorkeling and swimming. He arranged it all, we just went along. We had our own long tail boat and driver, the hotel made us a to go lunch and we packed up lots of sunscreen and water. I don't remember the names of the islands, except for "Chicken Island" and that is the one that looks like a chicken head and body.

Sometimes we pulled up on the beach, sometimes we anchored off shore and jumped in from the boat. The Thai fish seemed trained. They are looking for treats that tourists usually bring, mainly bread. Long skinny, piper like fish, circled Molly and I like ravens. Small, yellow and black striped fish swam in herds (more like herds than schools) and when you dropped a piece of bread in the water they acted like pyrahnas. We had fun snorkeling, but never found outrageously beautiful coral and sealife. But man, that is the clearest, blue water I have seen!

The last stop was a beach stop. We all napped and ate our lunch and enjoyed an almost private bay. There were caves along the rocks that Molly climbed into and read. I sat on a rock and let the cool water lap over my feet and appreciated the moment of another amazing spot.

The ride back to the long tail boat marina (if you can call it that) was an adventure. The ocean waves had picked up and the boat crashed and rolled at full speed. Water splashed over the sides and into our faces, the anchor went sailing overboard, Molly was near panic level and I was laughing and liking the adventure. The driver slowed and carefully managed the boat until we were closer to land and everybodies nerves were calmed.

Molly is just a bit of a pansy. When a local let her hold a monkey, it immediately started to go the bathroom on her, with pee pee dribbling down on her shirt. She screamed, threw the monkey off her, ran in a few circles and wiped her hands on me! What is with this girl? Of course she was laughing at the same time, but a hysterical laughter:) I got to hold the monkey next and he was totally calm and loving....he was also probably scared to death and I think I felt his little heart racing.

Stories

2009-12-17T03:40:00.000-08:00

It has been so relaxing the last few days, I have started a reading cycle again…..I haven’t read a good murder mystery thriller since Angels and Demons a couple years ago……but I picked up this book called “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” and I could not stop reading it…..I read it in bed, at the pool, on the beach, in the pool, in the ocean, at breakfast, at lunch, late, early, until I finally finished! I don’t think I talked to Molly for 24 hours.

Anyways, that is how relaxed I am. Other than reading, the last couple days have been rather quiet and filled with quiet. The resort is slowly filling up with holiday vacationers, making it a bit more interesting. Molly has a case of sun stroke or bad food or something that is slowing her down and she is content to read and sleep too.

The only outing we have had is taking a long tail boat over the Railay beach. A remote, yet still busy, beach nearby, famous for rock climbing, kayaking, snorkeling and caves. I was thinking what absolutely perfect day it was and trying to remember other favorite days from the last 3 months. I loved our day in Ronda, Spain, the hike in Zermatt, Switzerland, the day on the Island of Capri among others. It is just that every once in awhile, we seem to have an exceptional day that surpasses other great days. The day on Railay beach was one of those exceptional days for me.

The boat ride over was fun in itself. The Thai’s have these traditional wooden boats with flags, umbrellas and scattered life jackets, making them colorful. They run on a loud, obnoxious engine and have a propeller extending out about 10 feet from the stern of the boat. Thus the name “long tail”, I am guessing. They are fast, but I think they might only go forward, not backward, making in and out maneuvering tricky.

The beach had white, soft sand and cool designs made by all the millions of hermit crabs making their homes there. We couldn’t understand at first what all the little round balls of sand were and how the beautiful patterns crossed the sand so uniformly. Watching closer, we could see hundreds of little crabs going in and out of their holes in the beach, each time coming out, they throw out a little sand ball. Somehow, the sand balls make a pattern. It almost looks like meaningful Thai writings.

I rented a sea kayak and headed out on my own to explore the caves, rocks and scenery from the ocean perspective. I love the fact that you can rent a kayak without filling out any forms, signing any releases, wearing a life jacket or even having one in the boat. The 10 year old who rented it to me, didn’t even ask if I knew what I was doing. Anyways, I paddled off and immediately saw huge orange jellyfish, small fish schools and tropical tangs. I paddled around two small islands of protruding rock that had dribbles of stone falling towards to ocean and cave like indents where the waves had eaten away at the rock. I wish I had my camera, but I didn’t! Argh.

We have seen pictures of the tsunami that happened here on December 26 of 2004. I can’t imagine what that would have been like and how much destruction that would cause to these little village like places along the beach. Some of the islands actually were hit on both sides by the tidal wave. The power of water is strong and I know I have been tossed around without control in the smallest of waves. The pictures we saw showed mostly the aftermath of destroyed houses, resorts, automobiles and businesses. A couple pictures were actually were taken as a wave hit the shore and we saw the terror on the faces of people as they ran upland as fast as they could. There are signs frequently telling you that you are in a tsunami zone and signs telling you evacuation routes and safe zones. I can’t help but pay attention to the water level on the beach just a little.

The Five Senses

2009-12-17T03:39:00.000-08:00

The Ao Nang beach strip was where all the action was: the bars, the shops, the food and the massages. We have hung out there the last couple evenings. Similar to Panang Beach, there are vendors, stands, tailors, etc., but less of everything, more calm and less anxious. Maybe because this is a highly Muslim area, versus Buddhists. Apparently, Muslims seek a more quiet community and don’t drink alcohol like the Buddhists….hmmmmm. Sitting at the pool, we have heard the “call to prayer” during the day, typical of a Muslim community.

Anyways, got caught in a downpour rainfall the first night. Lightning and thunder. A mini-monsoon, I like to think. Tourists ran inside to buy umbrellas and street vendors covered up their goods with plastic and waited it out under the eaves of nearby shops. Molly and I went in to a bar and played a miserable game of pool, as the rain came down. The rain stopped and I have a vision of hundreds of umbrellas being abandoned in hotel rooms in the next couple days.
We had a local style Thai dinner from the people who cook on the streets with their BBQ’s, woks and mini camping like set ups. The chicken is to die for. They cook corn on the cob and make a veggie combo fruit stirfry that was fresh and full of flavor. We were inspired by the great meal and signed up to take a Thai cooking class the next day.

The Siam School of Cooking was out in the jungle somewhere. We got picked up at our hotel by the teacher. We were the only two students in the class. We had a teacher each. “Pin” and her helper had done all the shopping, prepped all the food and did all the dishes. It was just up to us to smash, cut and stir. I like that part of cooking the most. Together, Molly and I made 11 different dishes, with very similar ingredients in most. We made pud thai, fried rice, coconut chicken soup, clear broth soup with lemongrass, sticky rice with mango, chicken with cashews, red and green curry, fried chicken with ginger. We made papaya salad and seafood salad. Then we got to eat it all, but we took half back to the hotel.

Tonight ended with a nice massage of aloe vera and aroma therapy oil. This time, soft Thai music played and the sound of geckos chirping nearby added to the experience of touch. If you could add the taste of something wonderful and the moonlight, you would have all five senses covered.

Lost in Krabi

2009-12-17T03:30:00.000-08:00

After the party town of Patong Beach, I longed for some solitude and peace. I had booked the next 5 days at a resort in Ao Nang, Krabi. I thought it was down the road on Phuket Island, but it turned out to be across the sea from Phuket on the mainland and I was left with figuring out how to get there…….I have learned a lesson to do better research before trusting Expedia.com.

We woke early, early, one morning, after a late night watching soccer, listening to live music and trying to keep up with Molly. By the way, Thai people love to sing and do it well. I know our friend Cookie is an amazing singer, the karaoke singers in Bangkok were pretty good and this band was great fun. The two lead women singers were rockers! Like Tina Turner and Joan Jett…….could do a good Micheal Jackson too. Anyways, with that behind us, we left to Phuket town to take a ferry to Ao Nang.

The ferry was packed with tourists heading to other islands in the area. I lathered up in sunscreen and slept on the deck, while Molly slept inside. I saw beautiful islands and white sandy beaches when I awoke. The islands jet up out of the water with sharp cliffs. I saw hundreds of long tail boats and many fisherman. We arrived in Ao Nang and grabbed a taxi to our resort. The taxi driver took us all over the Krabi Province looking for our hotel. I was thinking that an address meant nothing to the driver and then I realized maybe he couldn’t read an English address, maybe he could only read Thai. He made some phone calls and one hour later, we arrived almost back to where we started, 10 minutes from the ferry dock.

The Andamanee Boutique Resort is a sweet place. Although it might not suit Molly’s needs , it sure will suit mine. For about $60 a night, we have a lovely room off the pool and there is only two other rooms in the small resort occupied. We have had the swimming pool all to ourselves, 5 staff members at our beck and call, complimentary breakfast and shuttle service and a bathtub and bathrobes in the closet! This is the first time I had worn a bathrobe in months! If there weren’t so many other beautiful places to see, I would be content to live at the resort for the week and go no where.

Beaches, Markets and People, Oh My!

2009-12-13T03:03:00.000-08:00

We have spent the last three days at different beaches along the west shore of Phuket. We have been to Patong Beach, Karon Beach and Lamp Sing Beach. Each one is different but the same. All the beaches seem to rent chairs and umbrellas. All the beaches have vendors offering you cold water, pop, fresh fruit, ice cream, nuts, chicken kabobs and other food. All the beaches have a couple jet skis, banana boats, parasailing and long boats for rent or hire. Every beach has clear, warm ocean water, with soft, sandy beaches and fishies.

I love to people watch at the beach. There are tons of different languages going on. There are many tourists here from Europe and Australia, more than from the United States, probably because it is easier and less expensive for them to come to Thailand than other places for holiday. Some of the ladies from Europe go topless, even though the Thai culture does not approve. There are many older Caucasian, men with beautiful young Thai women. There are all kinds of bathing suits and all kinds of bodies. There are a lot of tattoos and piercings. I put on my dark sun glasses and watch all the people.

At Patong Beach, Molly went on a jet ski with Will, from Paris. All three of us had lovely massages in the outside air. We bought fresh pineapple and ate it off the stick. At Karon Beach, we went for a long walk the length of the beach, had pomela fruit got sunburned. At Lamp Sing Beach, we bought nuts, saw a monkey and I got stung by a jellyfish. The Thai locals rushed to help me, bringing fresh lime to rub on the sting, which really wasn’t that bad.

That is the way of the Thai people. Helpful, sincere, kind and most with big smiling grins. We have seen that with the tuk tuk drivers, the shop keepers, the masseuse people and even the street vendors (most of the time) and directly with our friend Kai. She has been wonderful in showing Molly and I around and sharing the country that she obviously loves. She has bought us little gifts, arranged travels for us, suggested activities that are good, taken Molly out to hear music and taken us to Phuket Town for the night market. She doesn’t seem to want anything in return except our friendship, which she has definitely won hands down. I want to do something nice for her or buy her something, but I also know she is very proud and does not want my money.

The Phuket Town market was something. Like a vision out of foreign film, I was overwhelmed by the activity, the noise and the action of the place. First we walked thru rows of vendors, selling more of the same stuff, but even cheaper……lots of crap actually…..but some fun bargains. A lot of knock off stuff, mixed in with some possibly real seconds, I couldn’t tell. Molly was in heaven……she proudly found more crap to buy. Me too, but not as much.

The food area was more interesting to me. Everything was there to choose from. Piles of meat on skewers and piles of deep fried chicken parts (like talons). Lots of stuff: live soft shelled crabs, cockles and mussels, tiger prawns, octopus, squid, pig heads, cow tongues. Fruits I had never seen before and lots of sugar cane, pineapple, pomela, strawberries and bananas. There were huge oil pots and grills where things could be cooked to order. Big pots of soup, woks frying, noodles boiling. It was amazing and incredible….I wanted to stay and try all kinds of things (but not everything).

Patong Beach, Phuket Island, Thailand

2009-12-11T08:34:00.000-08:00

Molly and I arrived on the Island of Phuket in the south of Thailand early in the morning after leaving the craziness of Bangkok. First then we did after checking in to the hotel and grabbing a quick sandwich was to cross the street to the beach. I had booked a “hostel” online, which turned out to be a cheap hotel in the party town of Patong Beach. I had envisioned a small town, with a beach strip and some back to nature time. The reality was a busy beach like Waikiki or Miami, although probably not as big.

What we found at the beach were chairs and umbrellas to rent, young Thai boys brushing the sand off your chair, other Thais’ selling food, drinks and trinkets right at your doorstep, jet skis and parasailing, outdoor massages and the most interesting people watching ever. I tried to nap, but it was too exciting to take in all the surroundings and too hot. I kept getting in the water, which was as warm as a lukewarm bath, but still refreshing. Jellyfish swept up on the shoreline. Locals threw fishing nets out to catch little fish. Vendors came by with fresh pineapple, grapefruit, papaya and bbq chicken and pork. Cold drinks could be bought with a wave of a finger. I found if you made eye contact with any of the vendors, you are a sure victim.

I finally weakened (didn’t really take that much) to a nice lady who gave massages on the beach, in the shade. For 300 baht (about $10) I had a one hour massage. How do you beat that? I have calculated that I could have a massage every day of the month for the price of 3 at the Chrysalis. Granted there is no music or lavender smells wafting thru the air, but at the Chrysalis there is no sound of the ocean and no smells of bbq and coconut tanning oil. At the Chrysalis you can get a glass of champagne, at the masseuse at Patong Beach, you can bring your own bottle.

Molly chose to have a pedicure at the shop in our hotel area. She became friends with the gal at the shop named Kai and they planned a shopping adventure for us that night. I am sorry to say I was a little skeptical of the arrangement after our tuk tuk experience, but went along with the plan and am glad I did. Kai took us around the area and showed us the best places to shop and told us what was a good price or not. We had dinner together at a fun restaurant, where you pick the items for your broth and basically make your own soup…..it was interesting and tasty.

We walked the streets of Patong and they reminded me a bit of Las Vegas, maybe. Crowds everywhere, people from all over the world and many beautiful young Thai girls. The prostitution was obvious, as were most of the transgender “lady men” that have seemed to collect in this liberal area. Vendors try to get you into their stalls to buy, restaurants want you in their restaurants to eat, salespeople want you to buy tours and activities from them and a “good price” is promised everywhere. It was a bit exhausting.

Next, Molly dragged me out to a beach party across the street. I had been hearing the bass sound check most of the early evening and figured since I wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, I might as well go check it out. Three huge screens were set up and a DJ played loud techno music that the crowd loved (except me). The only thing I enjoyed was being with my daughter, on the beach, barefoot, under the moonlight in Thailand. But that was pretty good.

The King of Thailand

2009-12-11T02:41:00.000-08:00

Bangkok is a huge city. It is smoggy and polluted. Some residents wear face masks to protect them from the harsh air quality. By the end of a day, my eyes burned and I had an intense headache. We saw the sun thru a fog, but the background of everything was grey. The cleanest air I breathed was in a shopping mall.

It was very hot too. When we arrived at the Grand Palace, it must have been 90 degrees and very humid. The Grand Palace is the residence for the King and his family as well as having many governmental offices. Within the complex is the Royal Monastery of the Emerald Buddha. Because of the spiritual significance of the walled district, all visitors must wear shirts with sleeves and shorts are not allowed. Since Molly and I had worn tank tops, we had to “borrow” shirts from the administration to cover our arms. Many visitors were like us and some also “borrowed” pants or skirts. Many visitors wore pink, a color of religious significance. Shoes are always taken off before entry into any temple.

The Thai love and relish their King. As happens, it was the King’s 82 birthday on December 5, just before we arrived. In celebration of that, decorations aligned many roads around the Palace and central areas and many additional tourists and worshippers were in Bangkok to see the lights, flowers and other honorary memorabilia. The roads were awful. It took us hours to get around the city later in the evening. We finally abandoned plans of visiting the night market and headed back to the hotel for another massage.

The hotel has some Christmas decorations up. The Christmas tree is pathetic and plastic. The signs in the restaurant say “Merry X-mas” , which I know is a frequently used abbreviation, but somehow it felt wrong. I had to remember the country of Thailand is 95% Buddhist. I think I was lucky to see a Christmas tree at all.

Tuk Tuck

2009-12-11T02:28:00.000-08:00

We left the hotel by taxi early to see the sights of Bangkok. The city is so big, it is virtually impossible to walk from place to place. But taxis are amazingly inexpensive and another form of transportation is called a tuk tuk. We taxied to the Grand Palace and then took a tuk tuk ride around to see other sights. Molly and I thought we had handed our life over to the hands of the Buddha God of Traffic. More than once we saw our life flash before our eyes, as the tuk tuk swerved in and out of cars, motorbikes and busses, sometimes driving into oncoming traffic to make a quicker route. Faster than the rickshaws in Beijing, a tuk tuk runs on gasoline and has a small battery. I think it had 3 wheels and the driver sat alone with passengers in the back covered area. They are everywhere.

I didn’t hear until too late that the tuk tuk drivers will actually take advantage of you. I believe the driver gets a kickback when he brings tourists to shops where purchases can be made. It was so like my China tour, except here, the mission was subtle and we fell right into the trap. We stopped at a tailors shop “best in Bangkok”, we stopped at a jewelry shop “best in Bangkok”, we stopped at a travel agency “best in Bangkok” and finally I figured out what was going on. I agreed to go to one more tailor shop “best in Bangkok” and then said no more and had him take us back to the Grand Palace. Looking back, I could see how the whole situation was set up for us. Argh.

Not only that, but I fell victim to the pressure of the second tailor shop and got started looking at fabric and designs and got sucked right in to master plan. After missing out on the personal tailoring experience in Shanghai a couple years ago, I wanted to try this custom of made to order clothing, so I really have no regrets. With 3 salesmen to every customer, it is hard to say no. I picked out a marino wool fabric and satin lining for a suit. I picked out a raw silk in a beautiful gold color for a dress. I was measured (Full body) and measured and went back later that night for a fitting and adjustment. The tailor tucked here and there and marked and pinned. I will pick up my treasures when we return to Bangkok on the 20th and hope they fit perfect.

Karma

2009-12-11T02:19:00.000-08:00

We headed to the Athens airport on the underground for a late afternoon flight to Bangkok via London. Lots of air miles. Usually we buy the appropriate tickets for the public transportation system, but we have gotten lazier and cheaper. Some cities don’t check and we have gotten by ticketless many times, more a matter of convenience than money. In Athens, you must have a ticket validated to enter the underground……the issue is which ticket you buy to get in. We had bought the $1 euro ticket instead of the $6 euro ticket to the airport. We were surprised to find the ticket police checking validation at the bottom of the platform. I got thru with no worries, but Molly volunteered we were going to the airport and blew it! As dumb tourists, we promised to buy the correct ticket at the next transfer station and we were relieved from a $360 euro penalty each…….being the travelling gamblers, we never did buy the right ticket and left Athens as criminals without a record. I have promised myself I will make it right next time I visit.

Our friend Darren was not so lucky when he left Athens and got caught by the ticket police…..I think it is harder to be ignorant when you have a British accent. Besides, he does not have blonde hair and the dumb tourist look. Darren got some big ticket and left Athens with a criminal record and a decision to gamble with the record keeping system of the Greeks. Hmmmmmm. I am curious to follow the outcome of that.

Speaking of Darren, when we landed in London we had a 4 hour layover and he took the tube to the airport to have dinner with us. What a guy. If there is one person we will always remember from our epic adventure it will be him. Molly and I both love him to death. He is so fun and easy and friendly. He makes us laugh. He treated us to a nice relaxed dinner and visit before we connected to Bangkok.

You would think that with a 4 hour layover we would not be missing our flight. Well, we did not miss the flight, but we did run thru the London Heathrow airport (which is massively huge) because we found out we were at the wrong gate boarding to Thailand. With 10 minutes before the gate closed, I yelled at Molly to run ahead and not let them close the doors before I had my feet across the threshold. She did a great job and we weren’t even the last on the plane or the only dumb tourists at the wrong gate. Maybe that was karma for cheating the Greeks out of subway fair. Anyways, we made it, took our little sleeping pill and woke up in time for breakfast before landing.

I had the privilege of holding a 22 month old on my lap during landing. His name was Mali (like Molly, just spelled different) and his twin brother, Pippin, sat on his mom’s lap. A single parent travelling to Sydney, Australia with these two young kids. A 25 hour plane ride. Boy, did I feel for her. Mali had taken to us towards the end of the flight and I had been playing with him and keeping him entertained, while Pippin ran around the isles. I remember those days.

Luckily, we weren’t continuing on to Sydney, as we were tired. We took a cab to our hotel and immediately had a one hour Thai massage. For about $15, we had a full body massage with oil. FULL BODY. I mean FULL BODY. Need I say more? I have never had a massage like that. Where the Thai’s strength is pricing, their weakness is the mood setting we are accustomed to at home. This massage involved cell phones, fluorescent lighting and the chitter chatter of neighboring masseurs. Still felt wonderful, relaxing and exotic. Maybe it was karma for taking care of Mali.

The Evaluation

2009-12-06T23:36:00.000-08:00

Early on in our European Adventure, I had this idea of doing a grid with each country we visited and a grading system for various characteristics of each place.....that must be the left brain working again......anyways, Molly and I talked about all the places we had been and evaluated them and the attributes we found important. Our friend Patty had come up with the idea of giving each city (or country) a word. Let's see if I can summarize it:

England (London) Cultural
Netherlands (Amsterdam) Freedom
Portugal (Lisbon, Faro) Relaxed
Spain (Seville) Hot
France (Paris, Montpellier, Tours, Lyon) Old
Switzerland (Lausanne, Neuchatel, Zermatt) Expensive & Beautiful (2)
Hungary (Budapest) Proud
Slovakia (Bratslavia) Sick
Austria (Vienna) Musical
Czech Republic (Prague) Weird
Poland (Krakow) Somber
Italy (Rome, Sorrento, Pompei) Romantic
Greece (Athens, Nafplio, Monemvasia, Gythio) Fun

1st Place 2nd Place

MOST BEAUTIFUL: Switzerland Greece

BEST HOSTEL: Sorrento-Hostel 7 Vienna-Hostel Ruthenstein

BEST FOOD: Greece Switzerland

BEST TRANSPORTATION: England Amsterdam

BEST RUINS: Rome Greece

MOST INTERESTING: Prague Budapest

BEST SHOPPING: France London

FRIENDLIEST: Greece Budapest

FAVORITE CASTLES: France Switzerland

MOST FUN: Greece Budapest

BEST CULTURE: London Vienna

BEST VALUE: Krakow Prague

FAVORITE LANGUAGE: France Greece

BEST HIKE: Zermatt Nafplio

If I think of more catagories, I will add them.......of course, the amount of time, the people we met, the things we choose to do in each place greatly influenced the outcome of our favorites. Any different factor, people, weather, hostel, choice would affect the experience and result in a different outcome.

Places I want to go back (in Europe): Almalfi Coast in Italy, Greek Islands and Portugal

Places I have added to my travel list (in Europe): Istanbul (Turkey), Croatia, Barcelona (Spain)

So, we leave Europe with amazing memories, thousands of pictures, a few souveniers and new aquaintances from all over the world. We have a better understanding of the history of each country and the challenges they have had and continue to face. We have seen amazing beauty, unlike what we see in America. We have learned that big cities all over share many of the same characteristics. We have also learned that people, all over the world, of every ethnic background and culture are all people like us, with their own struggles, their own families, their own connections, their own dreams and desires. We are all basically the same.

Hairpins

2009-12-06T06:59:00.000-08:00

Greece has more hairpin turns than any other place I have ever been. Think of the road to Mt. Baker, the sharp 45 degree turn, up and down and put that in Greece over and over and over again.

We left Gefrya for Gythio. No wonder we never know exactily where we are with such similar names of villages and cities. But Gythio was a small fishing village I wanted to go to. Molly found a CD a young man had given her in Zermatt, Switzerland with four of his own songs on it. Since the radio in the car faded in and out, we started listening to Dylan's CD. We listened to it for about 6 hours in total. Only three songs.....we know them by heart and are now Dylan's number one and number two fans.....

We had lunch in Gythio, found a hotel for the night with a balcony overlooking the water and headed out for a much needed walk around the small town. We found a lighthouse, an old ruin structure, saw lots of fishermen with their catches and had restauranteers calling out to us for business. A handsome greek man approached us and spoke in English, asking, finally if we would have coffee with him later. We agreed.

Mike Zorbas (easy to remember like Zorba the Greek) had recently moved to Gythio from Corinth. He was a teacher and a stranger in the town like us. He knew English from school and proved to be insightful as to Greek life, customs, etc. He also loved music and reading, and we found many commonalities in that. We played backgammon, had coffee and decided to meet him in the morning to go for a hike.

When morning came, so did the rains. It was pouring, so hiking sounding less appealing. Instead, I suggested we drive across the peninsula to the Diros Caves, a famous natural phenomenon. More hairpins, some new music (heavy metal, provided by Mike), some rain, some sun, a fruitstand......we made it to the caves and had fun in the boat where we had to duck almost flat to get under the stalagmites without scalping ourselves. The water in the caves was so clear, you could not tell what was reflection and what was submerged.....the lighting made it magical and the quiet of the drifting boat combined with the dripping rocks was surreal.

We drove back to drop Mike off, had lunch with him first. He confessed his attraction to my daughter, both to her and to me.....we will remember him fondly. We left Gythio and headed to Sparta. It continued to rain, so instead of stopping in a big town known for nothing, we continued driving back to Nafplio for a relaxing evening in a familiar area, where Molly could run in the morning and I could walk. One of the nicest places we had been in Greece.

Scrabble

2009-12-03T23:41:00.000-08:00

After the hike around the real Monemvasia, I planned to get use of my little yellow rental car to drive to the other side of the peninsula to the town of Neapoli. We shifted gears, but not literally, as the car battery was dead.........sh*&!

Calmly, I opened the hood and tried to start the car, thinking someone might notice and attempt help. Again, no one was around. I went in and asked the hotel lady if she might help, but her only offering was when her husband came home that evening. Hmmm. Not really the best at changing the plans in my head, I wanted to go now and I also wanted to know the car would start.

I headed out on foot to find a gas station or something, bringing Molly along as my enticement. We found no gas station, asked a taxi driver, went to a rental car place, no help. Almost ready to try the police station, I saw two handsome greeks out having coffee at a bar....they were young enough for the Molly bait to work. I asked if they spoke English, one did some, I communicated our problem, the men rambled on in Greek, one left, came back, we all got in the car and drove to the little yellow rental car and they successfully jumped it for us. Yeah! We thanked them overwhelmingly and I insisted on giving them 10 euro for beer. We were off.

I had a much nicer drive in the sunshine. No skid marks on the road. We made it Neapoli, had a late lunch, walked along the breakway, saw the sunset and drove back to our hotel in Gefrya. With nothing much to do that night, we went to a small bar for a glass of wine and to play backgammon.

Backgammon is very popular in Greece. I bought a small board in Athens and have taught Molly to play. She has started to beat me, so I will have to think of a new game now. At the bar, they had lots of games. We played cards and then tried Scrabble. It was in Greek! Argh. We tried to play, laughing mostly, but the letters were different and the number of letters was different. I asked why it wasn't in English and the bar owner rolled his eyes.

The Real Monemvasia

2009-12-03T23:09:00.000-08:00

Oops, I did it again. One of those classical travel errors. I thought we had made it to Monemvasia, but I found out today, we are really in Gefrya. A little false advertising contributed to the mix up. No worries though, we can just walk across a bridge to get to the city I was searching for.

The sunshine was back out when we woke up. (Excuse me, when I woke up. Molly never wakes up voluntarily.......) I knew I wanted to go find the real Monemvasia. So, this wonderful village is in a walled area on one side of a great big rock, which dramatically rises out of the sea. It is seperated from Gefyra as the result of an earthquake, hence the current bridge.

The anticipation of finding it was exciting and when we did, you enter the village thru a tunnel. No cars. It was like a magical place with cobblestone walkways, picturesque views, red tiled roofs and narrow stairways. We stopped for coffee, just to sit on a fairytale patio overlooking the bluest ocean ever. I am sure hords of tourists come here all summer. I loved our day, without crowds, perfect weather, the village virtually all to ourselves.

Like many places this time of year, the off-season, a lot of construction and renovation is going on in preparation of the next tourist season. Monemvasia was no different. Some stone buildings were being renovated and the only movement around was mostly construction workers. Because there are no cars, supplies are moved in and out in wheelbarrows and on donkeys! We were surprised to hear the clip clop of hooves, followed by a man leading two donkeys carrying in cement materials.

Next we climbed up to to the top of the rock hill to see the upper city. This area is all ruins (I am back at it) of an old fortress and Byzantine church perched precariously above the lower village. The views were spectacular! Not a soul was around. It felt like Molly and I had the world to ourselves that day.

Corners

2009-12-02T11:24:00.000-08:00

I rented a car in Nafplio after not driving for 2 1/2 months. I couldn't get where I wanted to go without long bus rides, transfers and inconvenience, so I branched out of my comfort zone and rented a car. When given the option for full insurance coverage for an extra $10 euro a day, a smiled and said "absolutely". Our car is lemon yellow. Hard to lose. Small. Hard to hide our belongings in the trunk as recommended, since they don't fit! A manual transmission no less, like the rest of the Greeks.

We left Nafplio with the destination in mind of Montemvasia, on the southern coast of the Peloponnese. The scenic route was to be about 4 hours, which is, of course, what I picked. Today was the first day of rain we had seen since Poland, and even that was immaterial. Today it poured. Within the first 30 minutes, the back wind shield wiper broke and I had to turn it off. Soon to follow was thunder and lightning.....the waves crashing over the guard rails onto the "scenic drive".

So, the thing about road signs in Greece is that they are sometimes in Greek. This means you don't know what the hell they say. Sometimes they are in Greek and English, then there is some hope. My theory was to just wind along the ocean, knowing we couldn't get too lost, at least for awhile. All along the drive are concrete or stone memorials for those whom have died in car accidents, not very reassuring.

The first adventure was corner #1. I was going a little too fast in my manual transmission bright yellow car around a corner. When I slowed with the brakes, they locked. I told Molly to hold on as we slid, like on ice, around the corner, me twisting the steering to shift away from the 10,000 foot cliff. Luckily no fast oncoming cars. We survived that corner with hearts beating and a new respect for the wet roads and sharp turns. I drove very slowly the rest of the way on a very, curvy, cliffside road. I think it was the car, not the driver and I did check for bald tires.....

We continued on. Very rarely does Molly tell me to slow down, but she did today. We started heading away from the beach and through a mountain pass, still raining, still curvy and very steep. Even in the grey and rain, it was still majestic and beautiful. The only thing making it better was the next corner. We came face to face with a huge herd of goats being chaperoned through the pass by a lonely goatherd and his dog (should have seen this in Austria, not Greece). I stopped the car as the goats all hesitated and nervously passed, curious about me cooing and calling to them.

So, the signage is very difficult. Add to that, this: the main road does not miss the towns, it goes right thru them. Right thru the central plazas, winding thru one lane streets that are two lanes, around pedestrians, up, down, and no signage so you really are guessing most of the time. An old man stopped me in one town. I didn't know what he wanted, so I rolled down the window and asked. I think he wanted to ride with us somewhere and I said no, sorry. When you get out of the other side of such a village and find the main road again, you sigh a big sigh of relief.

Our passage thru the mountains was lonely. Besides the goats, we saw no other sign of life for over an hour. The lines in the road disappeared. We trudged along, with no other option really. Molly was thrilled when we saw a house, another car and finally lines on the road and a sign to Monemvasia (in English). We arrived after a 5 hour drive, one bathroom stop and really bad coffee, and a few directional mishaps, combined with the slow average of 20 miles per hour along the wet, curvy road. I have to say, Molly was a great sport on this adventure.

We found a lovely hotel room with a view of the water and the castel we have come to see. A measly 30 euro a night, it is a bargain during the slow winter. Good thing there is internet, because the rain continues, the dark night has set in and Molly and I have played enough backgammon for the night. Bed at 9 sounds okay, the drive wore me out.

On the Road Again, Just Can't Wait to Get on the Road Again......

2009-12-01T08:54:00.000-08:00

Five nights in Athens......that is the record. We haven't stayed in any one place for more than five nights in a row. Athens ties with Mikaels' dad's house in Vevey, Switzerland. I can't imagine being home and sleeping in my own bed five nights in a row.....hope I can adjust!

We bussed out of Athens to the town of Nafpoli in the area of Greece referred to as the Peloponnese. Nafpoli is one of Greece's prettiest towns with a Venetian feel and a fortress on the hill and a beautiful waterfront path on the Mediteranean. The bouganvillea drape over the small streets, combined now with Christmas decorations. The hillsides are covered in colorful stone, cactus, wild lantana and more bouganvillea. The food is better even than Athens, maybe a bit more authentic further away from the metropolitan area.

It is very quiet now and many of the pensions and hotels are closed for awhile. Restaurants are slow and shops take extra long siestas. I don't mind and actually enjoy the slower pace and few people. We walked around to find lodging and could barter with owners to pay about half of the high season rate.......nothing bad about that.......oh, forgot, we didn't have heat last night, so maybe that was no bargain.

Today I walked all along the beach trail while Molly ran. The only unfortunate part was that there is a lot of graffiti on the natural rock. I don't get how people feel they have the right to desicrate something like that. There were also a few people swimming at the one beach in town. Brrrrr. Then we climbed the stairs to the fortress overlooking the city. It was a hell of a lot of stairs. Ancient stairs. Ruins. We spent some time once at the top and then counted the stairs on the way down. 882 stairs, and that was not including all the stairs within the castle/fortress. Even Molly's legs were shaking coming down.

Also in the village bay is another fortress of sorts. Originally used to watch for invaders, it later became the executioner's home. Good idea to put an executioner out on an island. I wouldn't want him as my neighbor.

A beautiful, quant, charming little city, I would highly recommend it. A bit overly romantic maybe, so don't come by yourself.

Cappacino, Spinach Pie and Moussaka

2009-11-30T11:42:00.000-08:00

Darren and Molly rolled in again very, very late. Actually, Darren didn't exactly roll in at all....I found him outside our studio door at 8:00 am, sleeping on his shoes......well, that is a whole nother other story.......and best told by Darren:) So, because of their late entrance, I left them sleeping and took off early to the Sunday flea market.

I am hooked on a new diet.... I think that Greek food might go down as my favorite. I have found a european version of Cafe Vienna International~this european instant coffee is really cool because it has chemicals in it that make it foam up like a real cappacino! So that is my new morning drink, when possible. Now in Athens, I have decided the hostel breakfast of hardboiled eggs and tomatoes is not as good as the spinach pie down the street. Nothing like a big triangle of phyllo, feta and spinach in the morning. I feel so Greek....

I wandered the flea market. The garage sale central for bored Athenians. I did not buy one single thing, but I had fun exploring and people watching and seeing all the junk. Junk is universal. It seems to be the same type of junk no matter what country you are in. Old junk. Some of the Greek junk is from China, the Hungary junk is from China, the French junk is from China. The candlesticks look the same everywhere I go. The jewerly is costume jewelry. The best stuff today was the furniture, of which none I could carry home in my bag.

I went back to wake my kids and found them up.....Darren was still intoxicated, I think.....but they rallied to go to the beach. We took tram 5 to the Athens beach strip, hopped off and stripped down to enjoy some afternoon sun. Darren swam in the cold Mediterranean, Molly napped and I people watched. I have decided most Greek men are vain. There were more men at the beach oiled up in speedos than woman. Some men rotated like chickens on a spit to get an even tan. They faced north for awhile, then south, probably equal time. I loved Darren even more, for his white skin, swimming in his boxers, laying without a towel in the sand, hungover......

We watched a guy catch an octopus off the rocks. He brought it out of the water and banged its head on the rocks over and over, making a loud smashing sound. Once dead, he brought it over for show and tell. I thought he wanted me to buy it from him, but luckily, the restaurant must have and he let me be.

I had my third version of Moussaka that night, trying to find the best in Greece. Haven't found the perfect one, so I guess I will have to keep trying.

Ruined

2009-11-29T11:25:00.000-08:00

Our friend Darren came in from London for the weekend to spend more time in our delightful company……plus he got a cheap flight and could stay in our studio. So, he and Molly et al went out to clubs until about 5 am that night. A wild night of backgammon for me, I left at 9 am the next morning on a tour to the center of the universe; Delphi. Molly and Darren slept all day.

The bus ride to Delphi was 3 ½ hours. A few others I knew from the hostel came, including a very hung over Patrick, who had been out late the night before (I bought him a box of crackers and he sat in the front of the bus with a plastic bag). I sat next to Wim, and we chit chatted out of Athens, into the country side, thru remnants of cotton fields and along windy roads. We climbed into mountainous areas and went past a couple small ski areas. No snow yet on the hillsides, ski season is short in Greece and this November had been unseasonably warm.

We f.i.n.a.l.l.y arrived to the site of the Delphi ruins, so called because some Greek God disguised himself as a dolphin and took over the area (Delphi=dolphin). The location of the site gave it its uniqueness and charm, the ruins themselves were a bit uninteresting after Pompeii, the Roman Coloseum, the Acropolis etc……but the area was steep, rocky, pine trees, cedars and lots of fresh air. Lots of kitties too. Pompeii had dogs, the Delphi had cats.

The story of Delphi is that it was declared the center of the universe by a Greek god who let two eagles free in different directions. Where the two birds crossed paths was declared the center of the universe and that was what happened to become Delphi. If you touch the stone marking this center, mythology says you will have a series of weird dreams. I touched it, but I have weird dreams anyway, so I haven’t noticed any difference.

People came from all over Greece on a pilgrimage to have questions answered by the Oracle of Delphi. They cleansed themselves in a pool of freezing water and stood in front of the Oracle to ask their question. The Oracle was an older virgin woman, stoned on opium and laurel leaves, who mumbled an answer the priests interpreted for the pilgrim…….wow, what a job. I would like to know what kind of questions she answered.

I have decided I am “ruined” out. No more marble columns for me for a while. I have lost my appreciation for the ancient peoples building skills and efforts carting heavy stone up mountain tops. To me, the stories from Greek mythology are ridiculous, and I don’t understand how a culture could ever be based on such nonsense. I wonder if in 2500 years, someone will look at our culture and feel the same.

After an excruciating long bus ride back, I reunited with Molly and Darren and a group of eight went out to dinner at Plaka Taverna. We had wine from Santorini, made with grapes fertilized by the volcanic ash from the island of Santorini. Owen had octopus, Patrick had a whole fish and the fish eyeball, and there was spanikopita, Greek salad, deep fried potato balls, moussaka, lamb and pork dishes, with flan for dessert. It was a long, but good, day.

Helen of Troy and the Acropolis

2009-11-29T11:14:00.000-08:00

In Greek mythology, Helen of Troy is the daughter of Zeus and Leda and married to the King of Sparta. I met a lady at the grocery store in Athens, who invited me to coffee the next morning. Her name was Helen. I called her Helen of Troy, but really, she is Helen of Athens.

Molly and I let her cut in line at the grocery, since she only had one item. She could tell we were from the States (I don't know how everyone can tell?) and so she started talking about her time living in New York and how she loved Americans. Would we have coffee with her? I agreed to meet her in the morning.

We did meet for a cappicino and we talked for an hour until I needed to leave. She was a little hard for me to understand, her greek accent stronger than her english words. I leaned in really close to listen and focused really hard to understand and pay 110% attention to what she was saying. She talked all about her family, her education, the war, greek history,the color of her hair dye and the water in her ears. We exchanged addresses, I had the waitress take a picture, and I promised her I would write her a postcard and send the picture when I returned home. She was a sweet lady and I was honored to spend a little time with her.

I hurried back for my next meeting, a date with the Acropolis. Molly, Liz, Wim and Chau and I all went. Brilliant sunshine, climbed to the top of the hill in the middle of Athens where the Acropolis was built by Athenians in about 400 BC. Temples, temples, temples, ruins, ruins, ruins. The Parthenon is the temple to Athena and I wondered what went on their......many of the remaining ruins are all under renovation and apparantly have been for 25 years and probably will be forever. It was hard to get a picture without scaffolding. Must have been quite the effort getting all that marble to the top of the hill.

We made poses like greek gods and shadow pictures and enjoyed the hot day (unlike a typical November day in Athens). We climbed to the top of a rock hill below the Acropolis for an upward view of the ruins and downward view of the city. Chaum, Wim and I went on to the Monastiraki area for gyros and then I wandered the market area, went to the new Acropolis museum and then took a nap.

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Athenian Thanksgiving

2009-11-27T08:54:00.000-08:00

Molly and I flew into Athens, Greece from Rome. We settled into our hostel about a 5 minute walk from the Acropolis.....Because it is slow season, and the weather is only a lovely 70 degrees, we got an upgrade in our room to a 4 bed tiny apartment with a little kitchen, private bath and TV. It was sweet! Right next to a laundry mat and the hostel bar, it could only have been better if a Haggens was across the street.

Arriving at dusk is really not ideal. No time to walk around and see where you are or get your bearings at the start. But we managed to find a greek take-out, self serve restaurant and overloaded on fresh greek salad (with a whole slab of feta cheese on top), grilled veggies, moussaka and something like moussaka with the same ingredients but another name. We brought half of it back to our little refridgerator.

Molly and I had talked about cooking a Thanksgiving dinner and inviting people from the hostel to make a small party. The problem was the hostel kitchen was under remodel and our studio had a microwave and a stop top, but no oven. Hmmmmmm. I love challenges like that. We started inviting people that night, basically going thru a secret interview process before extending the invitation to dinner in our suite. By morning, we had about 10 people coming, mostly Americans but a young man from Belgium and a women from Vietnam. Everyone was so excited! We had to get our act together quick.

I found a bakeless pumpkin pie recipe online. I was going to buy some stovetop stuffing and precooked chickens and shove the stovetop mix inside, stringing them up with dental floss. We hoped for yams and marshmellows, green beans and mashed potatoes. When we found a grocery store, hardly a Haggens, we quickly moved to plan B. No pumpkin to be found, no stovetop stuffing, no yams, no marshmellows, no precooked chickens. Instead, I settled for lots of olives (plentiful, many varieties and cheap), little cocktail hotdogs, instant mashed potatoes, salad fixings and greenbeans. Molly got ingredients for her famous no-bake cookies.

I went back to the take-out restaurant from the night before and ordered up a couple roasted chickens, after haggling back on and forth over price and timing.....I agreed to come back and pick them up at 7:00. Our guests had all offered to bring things too, so I had delegated the dessert, bread and drinks to them.

We ended up with so much food, a wonderful group of people, lots of laughter and kindness going around. We all went around and introduced ourselves, as not everybody knew everybodies names (and I still don't know) and we also shared one thing, from the day, that we were thankful for. For Chou and Wem, non-Americans, it was their first Thanksgiving. We had a soldier on leave from Iraq. We had a half greek American learning her heritage. We had a Columbian living in the US. We had a radiologist, cancer survivor from Texas. We had two Christian Science travelers. We had an American who had relocated to Egypt. Quite the mix and with all the various backgrounds and differences, an amazing night that none of us will forget for a long time.

As chief organizer and hostess, Molly running a close second, I was presented with fresh flowers (complete with vase) and a bottle of Ouzo......to be shared with the rest of the group in souvenier Greek God shot glasses. The group cleaned up, some of us played backgammon, and late in the evening everyone headed down to the bar for Karaoke. I was so proud of my daughter that night singing Mamba #5.

Lesson learned that night was that people crave people and that is human nature. Also learned you can have great fun with people who could have remained perfect strangers, it just takes opening the door. It is amazing such a diverse group could come together to celebrate food, friendship and share knowledge about traveling and life experiences. Maybe it was a bit like the Indians and the Pilgrims.

Bellinis and Tirimasu

2009-11-26T23:15:00.000-08:00

We left Italy in style, as it seems to be a place where style is important and to do as the Romans do, we left in style.

We returned to Rome for one last night before flying out. I booked a nice room at the Yes Hotel (YES!) and we headed out for a light dinner. I was told to have a Bellini in Italy. We did....a wonderful cocktail of sparkling wine and fresh pureed peaches, it went down like a lemonade on a hot day. I could have had five more without being satisfied, but at 7 euro a pop, I stopped at one. Molly stuck to her grilled vegetable plate for dinner and I had a bowl of minestrone. We splurged on dessert.

Molly picked out two desserts, a star shaped chocolate pastry with whipped cream accents and rich chocolate drizzles and a traditional tirimasu (for her mom). Mmmmmmmmmm. The tirimasu was overwhelmingly soft, creamy, liquor soaked caked on the bottom, grated chocolate on the top. I could feel my arteries clogging, but if I were to have a heart attack and die at that moment, I would go out happy and in style.

The Hounds of Pompei

2009-11-26T15:17:00.000-08:00

Kicked out of our lovely hostel, due to remodeling issues, we headed a smidge north to Pompei to see the famous ruins....I had read about them in my National Geographic Traveler Magazine as an excellent visit.

The town of Pompei will not be highly recommended on my list of visited cities. It is small, uninteresting, unfriendly and a bit dirty. Mafia run? Don't know, just heard it wasn't very safe. We even got in trouble for laying in the grass by a church! Oh well, it didn't really matter, because all we were really doing was touring the ruins and using the hotel as a stop over on our return to Rome. Molly and I bought the last entrance tickets of the day. We went into the walled city in the late afternoon and walked out at dusk, which proved to be a very nice time to see the pillars and columns and arches in the fading light and sunset.

More interesting than the ruins themselves were the dogs around the ruins. Apparantly, in ancient Roman times, the dogs of Pompei were respected and honored. To this day, they still are. Homeless, stray dogs live throughout the area. They all have collars and are tagged. They are fed and given vaccines. There is an adoption program sponsored by an area animal rights group trying to find these lonely canines permanent homes. Molly and I wanted to adopt all of them.

By the end of our walk around the huge site, we had three dogs following us and we didn't feed them anything! One of them stood by a water fountain and when I turned it on, he drank from it just like an old pro. They followed us out of the walled city and onto the streets of Pompei. I kept telling them to "go home", but I realized they probably only understand Italian dog commands, of which I knew none. A man stopped on the sidewalk to give the dogs a treat and Molly and I crossed the street and hid in a store for awhile.

Sadly, we didn't see those dogs again and I can only hope they get adopted by someone Italian soon. For me, the dogs were the highlight of Pompei.

Priceless......Capri

2009-11-24T05:16:00.000-08:00

The island of Capri is reachable only by ferry or private transport. We took a bus ride to the Port of Sorrento and bought a ticket on the hydrofoil that left in 2 minutes.........we ran down the dock, out to slip 5 and panted up the gangplank of the boat. In a quick 20 minutes, we docked in Capri.

Bombarded by vendors selling tickets on commercial tourist boats around the island and to see the Blue Grotto, we tried to avoid the commotion as we figured out what to do, found a bathroom and an ATM machine. Can't do much without cash. A local, older man wanted us to go with him and offered various options of touring, from which we could design our own specific adventure. He was kind, friendly, not too high pressure, left us alone to contemplate, then found us an ATM and a bathroom. He also rounded up another couple and told us if we all went around the island with him, it would be a bargain and a great one!

I love bargains. I gave him 50 euros and we were off. His name was Gennarino. His boat was small, but doable. I asked him if he had lifejackets......no, he says, just hold on to him if anything happens. So, no life jackets, no insurance or bonding, no license, no cell phone.....I put my trust in him. The other couple was Italian and did not speak much English, but they were friendly and laughed easy, so it was a good time.

We boated around the whole island. Gennarino had lived there most of his life, so he knew what was what, the legends, the stories and what I understood, was all good. Many rich families have homes on the island, the Krupps (as in appliances), the Onasis (as in Jackie), the Gerbers (as in baby food), the Ferraris (as in the car) and also the King of Sweden to name a few. Romans used to travel to the island in the middle ages to swim. Roman kings would make love to virgins and then throw them off the cliffs so they would never make love to another.......wow, what a way to go.

We saw caves, blue grottos, stalagmites and stalagtites, clear blue water and brilliant shear cliffs. It was awesome to be on the water and to see what you could never see from walking the island. After our boat tour, we did walk. Took a funicular tram up to the top, where the Capri village is and walked around from there. We went thru narrow pathways, right, left, up, stairs, turns......beautiful private residences hidden behind gates, with lovely gardens and a tropical feel. I took 140 pictures that day.

I would love to go back to Capri another time and stay longer.....expensive I am sure, but the memories would be priceless.

Like a Bird.............Heading South

2009-11-24T01:00:00.000-08:00

Heading south......out of Rome, past Naples towards the Amalfi coast of southern Italy. We arrived in Sorrento.....famous for limoncella, orange and lemon groves, olive trees and a summer getaway for Italians and tourists. I like travelling during the off season. No crowds, no problems getting a place to stay, the locals are hungry for your business and the peacefulness of the streets is nice....the slower pace is refreshing, although sometimes transportation like buses, ferries, trains, don't run as often or at all. Sometimes the restaurants are closed and the stores have limited hours. As long as the weather is nice, the trade offs are totally worth it to me. And, we continue to have perfect weather.

We are staying at Hostel Seven, a bit outside of Sorrento. It has outclassed everyother hostel we have stayed in, but maybe that is because it is not like a hostel at all. Next to a church, across the street from a local soccer field, the hostel is a newly remodeled paradise for travelers and locals alike. A bar downstairs, with restaurant facility, a rooftop deck with beautiful views, new computers, bathrooms with bidets and luxury showers and coastal view from our balcony. Highly recommend it. We had a live band there on Saturday night and a DJ on Sunday night. On the second floor it was peaceful and quiet, so Molly and I each enjoyed our time.

We walked and walked, to town, back from town. We stopped and watched Mikael, our hostel host, play soccer for a bit. We gazed out at the Mediteranean and felt a mix of Hawaii and Mexico, with humid air, fruity smells and an ocean breeze. Sorrento is a cliffside town. When I picture the Italian coastline, this is exactly how I pictured it. Can't wait to see what's next!

Signs

2009-11-22T15:01:00.001-08:00

I remember when I started to think about this trip, I felt I was given signs from a higher being that it was a grand idea. Signs like work options, the ease of renting my house, Molly's university entrance deferral, ect......everything falling together to make the dream become a real possibility. Travelling the last couple months, I have seen different signs.

Flying Nuns

2009-11-21T14:47:00.000-08:00

I woke this morning with two things on the agenda....(1) going to the big park with the Borghese Museum and (2) seeing the Pope, or atleast Vatican City. Molly was up for (1), but not (2), which seemed fine with me. If she tells you she met the Pope, she is telling a lie.

First we mailed another box of clothes home. I thought it was safe, since we will be heading further south and the weather should be warmer. All the boots and shoes Molly bought are in the box. Mine too. We are about 15 pounds lighter after that and so much better!

Anyways, we hit the big park first. Molly wanted to run and I found a bike to rent. We tried to stay together, but my picture taking seperated us in the first 10 minutes as she ran one way and I biked off another. It was another lovely day too. I biked by the Borghese Museum, by the zoo, by the Modern Art Museum, by statues and gardens and arches and fountains. I met up with Molly back at the bike rental and we headed into the metropolitan termoil again.

We saw the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps (again), had a kabob for lunch and parted ways. By the way, kabobs are popular everywhere in Europe. A cheap, fast, easy meal on almost every street courner. So what if that was what gave me food poisoning, it was time to try again............

I headed to the Vatican. Got off the subway and was lost. My map didn't help. I had a lightbulb idea and followed the only nun I could find, figuring she would lead me to Vatican City......and she did! Thank God.

Anyways, I waited in line to get into the Basilica and hoped to see the Pope and where he lived. Instead, for free, all I saw was where he gave his Wednesday morning sermons (and the biggest screen tv I have ever seen) and I also saw all the entombed Popes from the Past, including Pope John Paul the II, who died in 2005. A very active crypt I might say, similar to Jim Morrison's grave with guard and candles.

Next I found the entrance to the Sistine Chapel, where Michelangelo painted the ceiling. That was a long, long, journey through the relics of Catholic history. Room after room of guilded decor, expansive tapestries, marble statues, jeweled instraments and religious paintings. Finally coming to the chapel itself. Wow. My feet were tired, but also, the room was amazingly painted with naked men from floor to ceiling. I could not imaging the intensity of painting while craning your neck to the high ceiling for as many years as this took. Amazing. I was so thrilled to have pursued that vision.

I thought of Angels and Demons a lot that day. I also thought of the power and the extravagance of the Catholic Church. After visiting the Colosseum the day before, and knowing of the richness of the Church in a time of the meager survival of the average class, I had a thought. It is interesting to learn that some believe an estimated 1,500,000 people were killed in medievel times for heresy. That is about the number of Jews killed in Birkenau, Poland during WWII.

There was a post office in Vatican City, but no Starbucks. I saw some priests outside the brick walls having gelato. I never saw the Pope.

When in Rome Do as the Romans Do...........

2009-11-21T10:38:00.000-08:00

What does that mean anyways? Does that mean I should smoke and throw my cigarette butts in the gutter? Does that mean I should talk loud and arrogantly in a crowd? Does that mean I should eat pasta and drink red wine late at night? Does that mean I need to be Catholic? I had to look it up:

So, the story goes like this: when St. Augustine arrived in Milan, he observed that the Church did not fast on Saturday as did the Church at Rome. He consulted St. Ambrose, bishop of Milan, who replied: "When I am at Rome, I fast on a Saturday; when I am at Milan, I do not. Follow the custom of the Church where you are." The comment was changed to "When they are at Rome, they do there as they see done" by Robert Burton in his Anatomy of Melancholy. Eventually it became "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

I guess I am glad I am not Catholic and if I was Catholic, I would prefer to live in Milan.....hahaha.

Anyways, I almost hated Rome before giving it a chance. We didn't like our accomodations, the cost of everything was outrageous and the homeless and beggars surrounded the central area where we arrived. Before we had settled for the night, we had booked our way out, giving us only two full days in a city where I am sure you could spend weeks.

The next day, my mind was changed and I found a part of Rome I could love and enjoy. Molly and I spent an amazing day visiting the Colosseum and the Forum area. Granted the fact that it was about 75 degrees with clear blue sky could change any pessimists attitude:) We spent the most of the day walking and exploring and seeing these 2000 year old remnants from early Rome left in the middle of one of the largest metropolitan cities in the world. Hard to imagine a day in the life of an early inhabitant of Rome then......sitting in the Colosseum watching herotics torn apart by wild beasts as penance for their crimes.......yuck.

Walking above the ruins, we met a man traveling with his niece from the U.S. We talked to them for awhile, as he was familiar with Bellingham. Eventually, we talked about dinner and I invited Molly and I to join them, which they seemed excited to do.....I mean really, when you travel 24 hours a day with someone, it is so nice to mix it up a bit and have some conversation with new blood. I gave them an out.....we decided to meet at seven and if either party didn't show up by 7:15 we would carry on indepently. Ok. See ya.

The fountain seemed like a good plan at the time of conversation. Molly and I dressed up and arrived early, so we shopped a little and headed to the fountain a little after 7. No one. Did we get stood up? OMG. I think we are at the wrong fountain! Was it the fountain at Piazza Barberini or the fountain at Piazza di Spagna? OMG! My one opportunity in Rome to talk to another adult and I have screwed it up......so I leave Molly at fountain #1 and I run off to fountain #2.

I am in Rome, so I do as the Romans do....I walk fast, push my way thru crowds, glare at cars that won't let me cross the street, ignore the beggars and street vendors and speed the direction I believe is right. Oh, I found the Spanish Stairs.....famous.........big flight of stairs......I haul ass down the stairs......no one......well, this isn't really a fountain now is it, I think. OMG. I was right the first time..........so now I go up, up, up all the Spanish Stairs and backtrack slowly to Molly. I take a few pictures on the way, give some money to the beggars and move out of the way for all the pedestrians, letting my heart rate settle.

When I strolled into the Piazza del Barberini, there was Molly with our new friends, waiting patiently for me, all the while I felt like a nutcase. Regardless, we shared a great dinner, nice conversation, a few laughs and now Molly and I have more Facebook friends! OMG.

Transitioning out of Eastern Europe

2009-11-21T10:04:00.000-08:00

We seemed to spend the last 24 hours in Krakow, after our visit to the concentration camps, eating and sleeping. Was it a subconscience response to the starvation and sleep deprivation we had felt for the victims of the holocaust? Or was the experience so overwhelming we had to regroup our emotions with some down time and feed our bodies with comfort food? I am not sure, but eat and sleep we did..........

Our friend Darren caught up with us at the Yellow Hostel in Krakow. So he joined the fabulous group we had hooked up with, mostly from Australia and New Zealand with a New Yorker and an Alaskan thrown in too. We seeked out traditional Polish food at a restaurant in the main square and had five kinds of perogies (little nummy pastries with cabbage, mushroom, ricotta, meat, etc. fillings) hearty meats, slawed cabbage, whole fish and some Italian wine, because I just don't know about Polish wine....... we had a great time and dinner and planned the next meal.

Next day, same group all went to a traditional Polish self-serve deli restaurant for lunch.....even more fun than the night before! Darren got pork knuckle, Steven tried the garlic soup and creamed spinach, Elly had a riccotta filled crepe, Molly ate mixed vegies and a stuffed pepper....Dan and Erin had something, I wish I knew the name, a slop like corned beef hash that was really good.....I had turkey and more cabbage goop. After such a hearty meal, Molly and I walked all over town, lost in the darkness.

We made it back to the hostel in time to organize our baggage and head off to the train station for our first OVERNIGHT train ride back to Prague. We had a little sleeper car for two and the beds were comfy and the night was quiet and we slept easily back to our originatio

We hadn't originally planned on seeing the Eastern European countries like Hungary, Czech Republic, Poland and Bratslava. But I am so glad we did! These countries are full of their own history, people and culture, unlike what we would have experienced if we would have safely stayed in more familiar territory. Each destination had its own unique qualities, unlike its close neighbors, which made it fun and adventuresome. I also believe because the value of our money goes farther there, it made that piece less stressful both for us and all the young travelers we met.

The downside of Eastern Europe this time of year is the weather......although we have had countless rain free days and much sunshine, it has been cold.....so we are headed south to the warmth of the Mediterranean. A transition I can do easy.

I Can't Breathe..........

2009-11-16T08:13:00.000-08:00

Approximately 1,100,000 people were killed in the Auschwitz and Birkenau labor and concentration camps during WWII. There are no sure numbers since as the war progressed and the extermination of Jews quickened, the Nazis didn't even keep track of the victims. Most of us know about the attrocities committed by the Nazis against the Jewish population across Europe. Today, Molly and I walked the same path as some of the victims of history.

We walked under the Auschwitz welcome sign stating "Working is Liberation". We walked thru th barracks were hundreds of men and women where packed together in unthinkable living conditions. We saw the pyramids of suitcases, shoes, glasses, clothing, personal items confiscated by the German troops. We saw piles of human hair shaved from the arriving that was used to make socks and blankets for the Axis forces. We walked thru a gas chamber and crematorium.

Words can not describe what people witnessing this place were feeling. Thousands of people coming to create a personal memory of the attrocities that occurred in the 1940's. I was sickened by a feeling of tourism and voyerism, yet it was offset by the payment of respect to the victims and the recognition of a time in history that should never be forgotten.

"THE ONE WHO DOES NOT REMEMBER HISTORY, IS BOUND TO LIVE THROUGH IT AGAIN"~George Santayana

I have put my mind around the events of this place. I allowed myself to feel the sadness and despair of what happened. I thought angry, terrible thoughts about the participants in this painful experiment in human genocide. I have honored and paid tribute to the lost. I have included the journey here and now I will put it behind me as we continue our travels away from Eastern Europe.

Polack Jokes

2009-11-16T07:27:00.000-08:00

We arrived in Krakow, Poland via an eight hour train ride from Prague. I couldn't see out the window as our assigned seats faced each other in the middle of the train. I don't know if it was a beautiful journey or not, only that it was slow enough for me to read almost a complete book.

Krakow was cold and black at our 10:00 pm arrival. A suitable beginning for our prediction of a country full of dark history, sadness and despair. Even the hostel was gloomy, as we buzzed our way in to an old, worn building with wooden stairs up to a chilly room. I was descending into my own personal despair, wondering why we had come to this place and how fast we could leave. But, as always, after a good night sleep, the outlook was better.

In the morning I walked to the main town center to take a free walking tour offered in most of these European cities. Meeting in front of yet another church, the group consisted of our Polish leader Chris, a Czech family, two Mexicans, a couple Spainards, an Australian, 4 from New Zealand, a Norwegian and a sweet gal from Texas. We spent three hours together, walking from place to place with Chris telling both factual truths and urban legends......we learned Poland's history of 1000 years of war, it's division, unity, redivision and reunity, depending on the neighboring countries strength at the time and the Polish resolve for independence. We learned about the religious tolerance of the country which was a reason so many European Jews had settled here. Prior to WWII, 70,000 Jews lived in Krakow. Now, only around 200. We saw the Jewish neighborhoods that were filmed in Schindlers List. We saw the place that Pope John Paul stood at his window and told the locals to go away. We saw the great Wawal Castle and heard the buggle at noon from the church tower.

I wondered why we Americans tell Polack jokes. Is it because the Polish people have been getting kicked around by everybody in the last two centuries? Or was it because Poland was so easily overrun by the Germans in WWII? I don't know the answer, but Chris told some good jokes during the tour. Were they Polack jokes? Anyways.........

I met up with some from the tour group later that night at a jazz bar. We sat around listening to music and talking until after midnight. I came in late and Molly wondered where I had been and was worried about me.........imagine that, the roles had been reversed! I was pretty proud of myself and my day in Krakow.

As I folded my laundry, done by the hostel staff, I found all our light wash was a faded shade of blue. They must have mixed the darks and lights together.................crud. Then I realized, maybe that was a Polack joke.....played on me.

Modern "F" Art

2009-11-14T14:29:00.000-08:00

I crossed town this morning to find the train station, so I could buy tickets to Krakow……why you can’t buy them on line, I haven’t figured out. This little episode took a couple hours, but I did get to see a lot of Prague the ordinary visitor would not see……….because I took the wrong tram heading out of the city. It was fun actually and I enjoyed just sitting and looking out the window, not knowing where I would end up, but knowing I could always retrace my steps back to where I started.

I have decided that Prague could use a little help in the signage department and with mapping concepts. Of all the big cities we have been too, I have had the hardest time here. Maybe it is because of the extremely difficult language and reading the names of streets and words is beyond difficult. I have noticed too that maps here vary and the directional pictures and distances are oddly distorted. The tram stops aren’t named on any maps, so you are always guessing a bit and it is very easy to get on one direction hoping to end up the other direction, but you just can’t tell from reading the panel at the tram stop…….anyways, it just provides more adventure, but patience becomes very important.

Alone this morning, I went to the Valanzia Palace, commonly known as the Museum of Modern Art. The only reason it has two names is to confuse you even more when you are trying to find it. I like to go to an occasional modern art exhibit so I can complain and make fun of some of the stuff these ‘artists’ come up with. I don’t think I have honestly found a way to appreciate or understand modern art. This was no different AND they let me take pictures of it. No flash. So, these are some examples of the creativity expressed in Czechoslovakia:

A block of connected spoons about the size of a dishwasher (I thought about the ‘spoons’ game and wondered where the inspiration came from for that one)
Copper Underwear. A size small of course…..why wouldn’t an artist use a size extra-large…… would that still be art?
A box of chocolate body parts: I am sure that one was tasty and if you like to suck your thumb, you can do it literally
An untitled sculpture: I thought, of course it is untitled, nobody can tell what it is!
The letter “F”: the artist says it is short for “Fuck” and he only thinks in first letters……WTF is he talking about?
Bronze Babies: weird….more to come on that

To complete my exposure to creative and obscure thought processes, I met up with Molly and Patricia and dragged them (not really) to the Franz Kafka Museum. I remembered reading his short story Metamorphosis in high school. Kafka is a Prague favorite, regardless of his dark, dysfunctional obsession with inner turmoil. The city shaped him, his father shaped him and his Jewish heritage haunted him…..ironic how out of the deepest of despair comes another form of art. Kafka is immortalized all over Prague, and the city refers to itself often as the City of “K”. I go back to thinking about the Modern Art Museum and the letter “F”.

The three of us make a huge salad for dinner and drink a bottle of wine…..Patti wants to go for a walk later and so we go to see the local TV station tower at the top of the hill where we are staying. Not a typical TV station, as this one used to be used to broadcast the Communist agenda and protocol to the neighborhood. In 1989, or something like that, Prague held a ‘Baby’ exhibition and throughout the city, babies abounded. Oddly, the TV station has 7 bronzed babies climbing or descending the tower. Big babies. At night, the tower is lit in red and blue and the silhouettes of the babies are a strange and haunting sight. Unforgettable and queerly likable.

I like this crazy place, full of character and characters.

Middle Age

2009-11-14T14:15:00.000-08:00

I was so thrilled to meet somebody my age staying in the hostel last night. Patti was celebrating her 48th birthday in Prague ( she stayed in the “Hotel Poop” the night prior, which was made famous by Queen Latifah in the movie, The Last Holiday). She had been travelling for 2 months with a year of world exploration planned. An interesting woman from Kelowna, Canada, she was recently divorced , sold her yoga studio and created a vision of a personal pilgrimage to unknown lands. I so admire her resolve to travel solo and her ability to be open minded to what lies ahead. We bonded immediately, both of us thirsty for conversation with another adult, in English. We visited a long time and made plans to spend the following day together.

We met in the morning at the free internet station in the hostel…..”where friends meet friends”……and took off for coffee and pastries down the street. Then we headed to the old part of the city and just walked and wandered for hours. The theme of the day was architecture and buildings and I couldn’t stop taking pictures of some of the most amazing facades and fancily ornate and painted buildings. I believe Prague was one of the few Eastern European cities with minor damage from WWII bombings. We visited one odd structure; a building called ‘The Dancing Building’ and also referred to as the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers building. I think I would have motion sickness if I worked in that place.

Patti and I continued along the river and stopped for a Thai lunch in Czechoslovakia which seemed out of character, but was tasty and authentic and a refreshing flavor after the heavy meals of the bohemians in the eastern tradition. It was getting colder and colder as we walked on across the Charles Bridge again and up to the castle where I had found out about a concert. We bought tickets to a 7 piece string concert with the musicians playing Mozart, Vivaldi and Paccabel……I am not usually a classical music fan and most often just drift off to sleep. However, this night, we were in a stone church, in the castle, on the top of a hill, in Prague. The music was lovely and touching and regardless of the comforting nature and relaxed sounds, I never fell asleep…..it was just too cold. How the fingers of the musicians worked, I do not know, as they played in wool coats and puffy down jackets.

We walked home in sprinkles as it started to rain. It was so cold. I was, and am, still hoping for snow. Worn out from walking all day, I joined Molly and friend, Louis for dinner and then headed off to bed.

The Eye of the Needle~Prague

2009-11-11T11:37:00.000-08:00

We left Vienna sadly behind us. I could have stayed longer..........but it was time to move on. We took the train to Prague in the Czech Republic, joined by a young man from London whom we met in the hostel. The train ride was a long, full day, but we enjoyed conversation, reading and napping as we travelled across the grey lands in the rain. By the time we hit Prague it was already dark.

I was glad to have Darren along. He too is a "mappist" and with his younger eyes, can see much better than I after dark. We took a tram and then walked until we located the recommended hostel we had heard about. Molly and I have a luxury suite compared to hostel history......2 rooms, a huge private bathroom, a full kitchen and even one chair. The three of us had a wonderful dinner at a neighborhood pub for a bargain price......although I couldn't see Prague in the dark, I already loved it!

The three of us managed to get out our first morning by noon.....this is after all the little tasks of the day like showering, checking email, finding an ATM, getting a decent coffee and pastry and mapping out our travel plans for the day......we headed to the Prague Castle: "the biggest ancient castle in the world", according to the Guinness Book of World Records. What is "ancient"? Anyways, it was old and cold. Great views of the red tiled roofs, great views of the city. We saw a nun carrying skis and wondered, does a nun ski in her habit? If anybody knows, I would love to learn the answer.....We ran into more friends from Vienna and stopped for hot mulled wine to warm our hands and insides, before carrying on to the next stop.

My mission today was to find the Miniature Museum I had read about in the Lonely Planet book I carried. I think I had seen a show on the Discovery Channel about writing names on pieces of rice and sculpting whole cities on the head of a pin. I was so glad the rest of the gang would humor me and go along to find this place. It was a hoot! We saw a picture of Jesus painted on a poppy seed. We saw a sailboat race on the wing of a fly....we saw a zoo on the antennaes of a bug and golden horseshoes on the legs of a flea.....we saw a band of camels on a piece of hair in the eye of a needle and more........incredible......I took pictures, but you can't see anything (hahahaha)

The museum was miniature. The man running the museum was miniature. He had a small man complex and was quite rude and unpleasant. Molly made him the tiniest paper crane she could finger and gave it to him......trying to win him over. He could only smile and say they would put it on display. I think it made him feel even smaller..........

Still fighting the cold, we opted for a restaurant for a late lunch......a traditional Czech lunch: a glorious garlic soup, a piece of pork with creamy, sweet cabbage and dumplings. Hot apple strudel for dessert.......mmmmmmmm. It was nummy and filling. Warmed us up enough to wander across the famous Charles Bridge and tram ride back to our hostel, where we are warm and comfortable and even have our own bar downstairs........which.........I am off to.

Vienna waits for me.......

2009-11-10T14:16:00.000-08:00

There was no way in heck I was going to wait around for Molly to get up to experience the last day in Vienna. The sun was shining and I had a list of goals to cross off before 4:00:

Buy train tickets
Visit Cental Cemetary
Visit Shonneburn Castle
Get hair cut
Eat Weiner Schnitzle

So this is how my day went................

Left the hostel at 10:30 after hanging around to listen to the young man from Nova Scotia play guitar.....it was practically like having Johnny Cash in the room with you. How could I miss that? He was awesome. I then walked to the salons I had seen to see if I could get my hair cut, as my bangs were growing towards my nose in an unsightful manner. These salons were all CLOSED.....so not only does everything close on Sundays, but Mondays TOO! Argh.

Decided to buy train tickets to Prague. Another hour of walking around trying to find the ticket booth in a train station that is under a major renovation. Almost gave up on that exercise, but found the entrance to the station just in the nick of time, so I got to cross that off my "to do" list.

Decided to head to the outskirts of town to Shonneburn Castle. Took the wrong subway. Turned around and headed the other direction on the correct subway line. Got to the castle and was thrilled to not have to pay an entrance fee (cost saving highlight to date). I wandered around the beautiful grounds of the castle park taking pictures and enjoying the fall day outside the concrete city. I ran into a couple guys from the hostel I knew and we ended up walking around the rest of the park together talking and laughing. We sat on a bench in the sun, soaking up the warmth like the 70 year olds on the neighboring benches. It was glorious and the time slipped away.

I headed back to meet up with Molly. Found a place to cut my hair (yes!) but never made it to the cemetary and never got to eat Weiner Schnitzle. I love my haircut by the way.....I designed it myself on a piece of scratch paper since I feared I wouldn't be able to communicate with the hairdresser. She was great though, understood what I was looking for and did a wonderful job....I told her I would come back next time I was in Vienna...............I wonder how long my hair might be by then?

A couple other things on my "list" before leaving Vienna were seeing an Opera and eating Sacher Torte at the Hotel Sacher. With one night left, I got a last minute ticket to see Lady Macbeth at the Vienna Opera House for 3 euro. This bargain exceeded any cost savings highlights to date. I had heard about the last minute opportunity in the hostel conversations and sure enough, for 3 euro, you could stand in the back and hear and see (most of) the performance complete with a reader screen converting the Russian opera into English. This was kind of like going to a play with subtitles................my first Opera, really. And I stayed the full 3 and a half hours, standing to find out how the story ended. Tragic. Of course. Do Opera's ever finish happy?

I was too tired for Sacher Torte, so that will remain on "the list" for my next trip to Vienna, when I will surely get my haircut again too. Remember Billy Joel? "Vienna waits for me................"

Molly's 19th Birthday NIGHT in Vienna, Austria

2009-11-10T13:57:00.000-08:00

Molly's birthday falls on a Sunday this year. Why are all the stored closed in Vienna on Sundays? What is wrong with this city and country and continent, that they DO NOT THINK LIKE THE U.S.? Oh, I think they have something on us, they are smart......to have a day with no shopping pressures, no errands can be done, nothing can be accomplished except maybe going out to a nice meal, possibly a museum, family time, park time, but definately no shopping....not even grocery shopping......only the Turkish grocer is open today.........the whole city of Vienna is closed for retail therapy. A mandatory day off for shopaholics.

No worries about this cultural phenomenom except that I was going to bake brownies for Molly's birthday party, find some balloons and maybe some candles. Nada. Always have a Plan B, and if you don't have one, quickly make one up. I found the only patisserie in a 10 mile radius and bought enough creme puffs for about 20 people. I went into the Turkish grocer and bought some a couple bottles of champagne. I had a secret plan to have a birthday party regardless of the fact we didn't have a real cake, no candles and most of our new best friends had travelled on to another destination in the early hours, so we didn't really know anybody.

We thought about going out to dinner, but didn't. Had bread and hummus and water.......kind of felt like a last supper. We played cards for awhile in the common area, I tried to let Molly win since it was her birthday. When the hostel common area was sufficiently busy and crowded, I announced a birthday party. I brought out glasses and plates, dished up runny cream puffs and beer steins of champagne to strangers. I taught the group the "Red Robin" theme song for birthdays, had all the men kiss Molly and the night was out of my hands after that. It just took the gate being opened for the flood to come.

The hostel group rallied and we all went down the street at about midnight to continue celebrating at the hostel called "Wombats".....whose bar stays open until 3. I had one beer with the group and left Molly and her peers to carry on without me. I think she had a good night, but you would have to ask her. Just don't wake her up before 1:00 in the afternoon, as she didn't get in until 6.

Molly's 19th BirthDAY, in Vienna, Austria

2009-11-08T09:56:00.000-08:00

Molly thought she was going to be in Venice on her birthday. Oops again. And I am not letting her sleep all day today! We have plans girl, get up!

This is Sunday. We are going to church. This may be the first time I have gone to church with Molly on a Sunday morning since she was nursing. But I got tickets to hear the Vienna Boys Choir in Vienna! To do this, we are going to church and we are paying the big dollars to do so. The church is small and very ornate, very Catholic, very dogmatic. The service is in German. There are as many people involved in lighting candles, singing, swaying the urns of incense, leading prayer as there are people in the audience. I am sure it was all very symbolic and enlightening to the participants. To me, it was ''religulous". I was annoyed that they came around collecting donations after we paid for tickets already. I was glad they had the incense going, as Molly had bad gas.

When the boys choir started, all my grumbles subsided. The voices of these young boys was more spiritual than the service. The soprano range of a 10 year old........awe inspiring. The beautiful harmonic melody of the group brought tears to my eyes. It was worth going to church for.

After a Starbucks, we went next to the Lippinzer Stallion performance. These majestic, beautiful white horses are raised in Slovakia and trained in the traditional Spanish method of horse ballet here in Vienna. They prance with high steps, sometimes in place, sometimes at a trott, sometimes sideways. Together eight of them wove in and out of each other. Some would jump magically in the air or stand on their hind legs......the beautiful, powerful body of these animals. Unfortunately, we could take no pictures.

I had a good birthDAY with Molly. We will see what the birthday NIGHT brings..........

The Freudian Slip

2009-11-08T09:19:00.000-08:00

Our first full day in Vienna I hit hard.....plus I felt good enough to do so. Molly had hit it hard the night before so she missed out on the morning adventure......

It is cold and grey here. No rain this particular morning. Snow last week. The fresh air feels so good to me, I embrace it and it gives me energy. I walk a half hour to the Saturday market. A huge Pike Place Market style, outdoor smorgasboard for those of strong stomaches. On Saturdays, the locals add on a flea market with antiques, collectibles, junk, used clothes, fur coats, military gear, even violins. I found beads from Turkey and India, here in Vienna. Similar to the beads I bought in Bathe, England a few years ago.....beads from Arizona...... The foods at the market were amazing....fresh pastas, hot mulled wine, sausages and dried fish, spices in bulk, fruits I had never seen, olives stuffed with everything, prepared antipastas, turkish delight, bread, every fresh item you could need. I am still surviving on plain bread and gatorade.......so I missed the delicacies of the day, but hope to get back.

I met up with Molly in the afternoon to go to the Sigmund Freud museum....she had done a paper about his dream studies in high school. Freud spent 30 years living in the building we visited in Vienna. It is where he did his most notable work in psychoanalysis, writing and patient research. He brainstormed with Albert Einstein, Salvador Dali and other great thinkers of the time. His published writings were burned by the Nazi .He was of Jewish decent and exiled in 1938 to London where he died of cancer one year later. This quote was interesting:

"We have been led to distinguish two kinds of drives: those which seek to lead what is living to death, and others, the sexual drives, which are perpetually attempting and achieving a renewal of life"

Ponder that.

I slipped in dogshit on the way back to the hostel. I called it a Freudian Slip. Ponder that.

I'm a Hostel girl....in a Hostel world.........

2009-11-08T06:14:00.000-08:00

After memorizing the layout and colors, inch by inch, of our room in Bratislava.....after visiting the WC (toilet in English) approximately 78 times.....after 8 cans of sprite, 2 poweraids, 4 waters and some chicken soup........after 56 hours of sleep.....after finishing my book.........after watching the Berlin MTV awards..........we left Slovakia on the train to Vienna.......I was still in poor condition from the flu bug. That is how I will remember Bratislava, unfortunately.

My patience was at an all time low when we hit Vienna. Lower still when I determined I was at the train station across town from our hostel. I had lost all my tourism positivism and just wanted something to be easy!!!!!!!!!!! We had to take a tram across town. Then we walked in a few circles, until asking directions and eventually made it to our hostel on some random back alley in what seemed like the middle of no where. (We should be used to that by now, many of the hostels are hidden gems inside what appear to be shabby, old, odd location spots.)

You walk in Hotel Ruthensteiner "the friendly hostel" and it has this cute little alpine sign outside......inside is a hostel the size of a small city. 180 beds. Bathrooms on every corner (I can use every one of them if I want!). A bar that has happy hour from 7-8 and is open until 12. Washers, dryers, big kitchen, piano, guitars, book exchange, games, lots of people and as it turns out, is in a really good location. I was so excited, I went to bed again.

I have changed into a hosteler. An older version, but still a hosteler. I have gotten used to small rooms, insignificant pillows, a bathroom down the hall and a shower the size of matchbox. I am fine with hearing the comings and goings of fellow hostelians (is that a word?) and great at sitting around a breakfast table in my jammies without a care regarding who comes in to the room next. I am used to collecting coins for the laundry and figuring out mysterious machines. I like the secret passwords to get in, the key systems, the 24 hour staff at your beck and call. I like that you can get a private room for two for about $50 a night. I am thinking, if it is just me, maybe I can get away with a $30 a night room, an average of 30 days a month......say $900 a month...No utilities, no repairs and maintenance, no yardcare, no material possessions. Just a thought.

Being in a hostel is similar to living in my neighborhood. We all have our own space, but we have a great space in common (the hostel lounge is being likened to our community beach). When I want my privacy, I go to my room or stay in my house. When I need some social interaction and feel like creating a party, I can go to the hostel lounge or my beach. I am thinking I will be content in a retirement home in my old age..........

Sick in Slovakia

2009-11-05T10:45:00.000-08:00

What can I say? I haven't made it out of the room except to see the hostel dog. The few pictures I have taken are for entertainment only.......I am thinking it is food poisoning....maybe all those gyros from street vendors?

Budapest Wrapped-Up

2009-11-04T00:24:00.000-08:00

Cold, cold, cold. It has gotten really cold. No rain or snow, just a penetrating cold. The people are bundled up in puffy coats, hoods tied tight, furs and gloves, boots and hats. The sky is grey, and the buildings are grey.

Regardless of the fact that Molly left my coat at the bar last night, never to be seen again, I go out in the cold in layers of sweaters to see Castle Hill. Great views of the city and the Parliament building and the Danube river. Walk around the quiet area, take pictures and step inside the museum to get warm. I really need a coat.

We spend our last full day visiting the Jewish Synagogue and Museum. The second biggest in the world. Listen to the sadness in the tour guides voice as she goes over the history of the local Jewish Community. A tour member asks her if she is Jewish. Her response is harsh.....you do not ask people about their religion in this country and much of Eastern Europe. Religion is personal and private. You can ask how much a person makes in income, but do not ask about religion. The opposite of the United States.

The tour guide get very quiet after that. She actually abandonned the group. We think she was distressed about the question. Hmmmmm. I wonder how much she makes in income.

Molly and I are cold. We find the solution in the shopping mall. I get a new coat. Molly gets a warm turtleneck. I get boots. Still cold, we head to another Turkish bath for a soak in the warm, sulfur water. That heats us to the core.

There are many homeless people, beggars and shanty halls around. The coldness brings a new challenge to these people. The subway underground has become a gathering place for all of them to keep out of the cold. Tonight, I see someone who has brought a big vat of soup to the underground. He serves hot soup in paper bowls to all the homeless. There is a big crowd. I hope it will keep them warm thru the night. I hope one of them ends up with my lost coat.

All Saints Day

2009-11-02T14:52:00.000-08:00

I am on my own again, as Molly sleeps the day away......I just can't do it....she goes out all night, I am ready to go in the early morning.

I hook up with April, from Sacramento, not San Francisco, and together we go to the Flea Market I have been looking forward to for days. I love those things. This is what all the Budapestians do instead of having a garage sale. They bring there junk to the Flea Market. I enjoy sifting thru the old coins, jewelry, piles of used clothes and china. I lifted up a pair of boots to find a Playboy magazine. I could have got a couple kittens too. I think these venues are pure culture. April and I might have been among the few tourists. And, I love to bartar.....for me some of the pleasure in the purchase is the working of a good deal.

After an hour, we meet up again and walk around the huge City Park more. We see the Anonymous Statue......I touch the pen for "good writing inspiration". We see a Ronald Reagan statue (what he means to Hungary, I don't know), we visit the thermal baths in the park, we visit Heroe Square. I stop to get a gyro for the third day in a row............

Lucky me, I am having a massage after my afternoon nap. I nap, wake and shower before my massage, a quiet, cross-eyed man with strong hands and no english. Perfect. I lay on the table as, for one whole hour, I get a lovely back rub and foot massage and........well, it is very nice and relaxing. For while, I feel like a glob of jello. But enough of that......

Today is a national Hungarian holiday, All-Saints Day. A day of remembering the dead.....our hostel hostess, Kata, spearheads the evening of celebration. She, with help, cooks a pumpkin souffle and baked pumpkin and apple. All the hostel guests gather in the kitchen and share the lovely meal and laugh and enjoy the company. Kata says we are the best group of hostelers she has ever had....maybe because of the eight Greeks, the Turk and the Columbian. I, however, am sure she is right. Kata is a woman who is passionate about life and speaks from the heart. She is thoughtful and intelligent, sensitive and deep.

We toast to the memory of the dead, to Kata and to each other. Molly has gathered in more friends, so the crowd is large. We eat all the food and many of the group continues the celebration by going to a ruin pub called Simplot. This was the most amazing bar. After passing thru three sections of hanging plastic barrier, you enter the bar which is in a building near tear down. The bar is big and the special drink served is a hot spiced wine. I could grow to like that. We talked, played foosball and had fun. The Greeks never found us....are they bad at directions?

Halloween~Ghosts of Communist Dictatorship

2009-10-31T15:40:00.000-07:00

Molly and I bought candy at the neighborhood store and Samatha sketched a Halloween Pumpkin and we shared our gifts with the hostel staff and guests. Other than that, there was little celebration of the holiday, unlike at home. The only ghosts I saw were at the Monument Park.

I headed off on this venture on my own. Molly wanted to run again, regardless of the blisters on her feet and the late night before.....no worries. I headed off on the adventure of finding this park, where many of the statues from Communist rule had been relocated. I believe in a symbolic gesture, when the new democracy was formed in 1989, all these icons from the past were removed from the central area of Budapest. Together, they were placed on the outskirts of town. Replicas of the boots remaining from the torn down Lenin statue highlight the park, although my personal favorite was the hands holding the world in their palms. A statue of Lenin holding out his hand was also there. The story was that his outstretched hand often held bread with lard, placed there by disgruntled factory workers.

A subway ride, a tram ride, a bus ride and one hour later, I took the half hour speed walk thru the park as the air turned colder and colder. I took pictures of the monuments and read about the history and took a bus ride, a tram ride and a subway ride back to the hostel. I was glad I went, but actually liked the ride thru the suburbs more than the park itself.

We moved to a different hostel in a different area of town today. We are staying in the "Japan" room in the Adventura Boutique Hostel. The gal here is a sweetie and so helpful and cute. The eight guys from Greece aren't too bad either and then there is a Turk, a Columbian, an Australian, two gals from Malaysia and April, from San Francisco. Once again, I am the oldest one in the ranks......and my next trip might be with an AARP group, just for a change of pace. Sometimes I really like an elevator over stairs.

Dinner at "M"

2009-10-31T15:02:00.000-07:00

"M" for Molly, Mom, Montmarte, Mont Blanc, Matterhorn, Mirco, Margitsziget, Money, Montpellier, MMMMMMMMM.

Night number two of dining at a researched restaurant. Why haven't I been doing this all along? This recommended restaurant, reviewed in a local magazine, is simply called "M". It simply seats 40 people. It simply has brown paper on the walls with sketched in lamps, tables, mirrors and pictures. It has a simply coffee maker from the 1960's that grinds the beans before making the coffee. It was simply fun. We had a group of 4, no 5, oh, 6 now.

The people:

Molly (well known travel partner and nonreplaceable daughter)
Me (Mom to all and yours truly)
Andrew (came into the hostel in the early morning from Prague...native of Ontario, Canada, currently serving in the Canadian army in Dubai, on holiday after tour of duty in Dubai, has travelled in about 15 countries in the last 3 weeks and moves on at the speed of light. He can light alchohal on fire in his mouth, has blisters on his feet from walking and owns a new pair of shoes that he charged on Visa for $300......has more blisters...drives a big truck and loves his steak dinner and Kentucky Fried chicken, many tattoos)
Ben (not his real name, but we couldn't pronounce his real name, so he said to just call him Ben...showed up today, leaves tomorrow, he is originally from Quebec, Canada living outside of Paris, he is a iron man competitor and a mechanical engineer, wears a stylish wool coat and red scarf, did not like short jokes, no dinner for him, just red wine but paid more than his share, great conversationalist)
Andrew #2 (really Landras, but goes by Andrew, our hostel host whom we all love, born and raised in Budapest, age of 22, has seen many changes in the country and is smart, intelligent and very friendly...good English, bordering on great.....many stories of history and sharing of local tradition and custom....student and worker, living at home with parents, should have a girlfriend, but I don't think he does)
Samantha (same as night before minus the boyfriend from Dublin who went home, she is originally from Turkey, but has lived all over the world and learned perfect english in San Fransisco and Rhode Island....currently living again in Istanbul, Turkey....artist teacher, amazing sketch drawings, shoe designer, sports tattoos, blog writer, loves neighborhood waffle man, great stories and adventures, loves to walk and take pictures... will travel and live abroad for the rest of her life)

We got in in the early morning.........full of new perspectives, different ideas and travel dreams.

Eyes Wide Open

2009-10-31T13:29:00.000-07:00

Today, Molly wanted to run. We headed to a park on the island named Margitsziget (after a Hungarian King's Saint daughter). The Danube river flows by each side of the island and bridges connect the nature lovers to the nature lovers park. It was a long walk to get there. I thought Molly would be too tired to run, but I was wrong.

A nice trail went around the outside of the island, so Molly took off. I found a bike rental place and headed off on the trail on a bike. I circled the island, twice, as did Molly. I was so taken by the beautiful fall colors and the leaves making a carpet of gold across the grass. At the moment, I thought I had never seen anything as spectacular. And then I wondered. When we are traveling, do we see things differently? Are we more open to beauty and wonder? Has our pace slowed to a point of having the ability to absorb what is around us instead of letting it simply brush our senses? Why is this more spectacular today, than what I see at home? Are my eyes just more wide open?

We saw the elaborate Parliament building, close to the Communist block housing. We saw a boat in the Danube that looked like a bus. We saw the Opera House a street away from the former Headquarters of the Hungarian SS division. Budapest is a city that has stirred my thoughts and messes with my brain.

Bathing in a Cathedral...............

2009-10-31T13:04:00.000-07:00

In the city of Budapest, a uniquely local experience, is bathing in one of the many thermal spring spas. Some date back to Turkish rule. Which one would we choose? Hmmmmmm. Let's go with the "Happy Hour" pricing at Gellert Spa, on the Buda side. A walk across bridge and down below Gellert Hill.

I had my map. I had pictures of the inside. I couldn't find it. Molly gets a bit embarassed when I have my map out and the guidebook too. Even with all that, I couldn't find it. She found it. Inside a hotel (thanks Lonely Planet), it was found on instict and not direction......kind of like my adversion to GPS systems......lesson learned.

Anyways, we walked into a small piece of heaven on a grey day. It felt like going to church to swim. I was looking forward to soaking in the hot, mineral waters, as my legs were still sore from the hike down the Matterhorn a few days earlier. I had my suit, rented a towel and headed off to the pool and hot tub. Co-ed. Cold water in the pool. Too many kids in the hot tub.....I thought "this is what happens at Happy Hour". Still felt good, but Molly and I were actually chilled and had had enough.........then we discovered the THERMAL, HOT SPRINGS, ALL WOMENS, POOL. Yes! That was more like it. We turned to prunes in the hot water, showered, walked back to the hostel relaxed and refreshed. Vowing to try another pool another day.

I met a couple at the hostel that were very friendly and interesting. I had actually researched a restaurant to try that night and invited them to join us, which they did. Samantha (currently living in Istanbul, Turkey, but lived prior in San Franscisco) and Mirco (currently living in Dublin, Ireland, but raised in Italy)........I knew exactly where the restaurant was, I mapped it all out before hand. I was confident. Took us about an hour to find it. Back and forth up the same street. Finally, stumbled into it on a side street, based on a picture. The restaurant, Csiga, didn't even have it's name posted......what are they thinking?

Regardless, the food was wonderful. It was a local hangout with a great menu. Maybe because we walked so much to find it, maybe the company was enlightening, maybe we were super hungry, but the dinner was the best yet. We left full and happy and found our way home, without further circles and maps.

Buda and Pest~Hungary and History

2009-10-31T09:21:00.000-07:00

I didn't know, but I do now.......Budapest started as Pest-Buda. It is a city divided by the Danube river. We are staying on the Pest side, where most of the business, tourism and action is. The Buda side is more residential, peaceful and green.

The city itself, and the country, have been through so much in the last 70 years, I can not even imagine or compare the rich history here to anything like it in the United States. The history began here long before the destruction of World War II, but for most of us, that is as long ago as we know. You have to know the history of Budapest, to know and appreciate the people living here and the city in which they live.

The Hungarians had partnered with Germany and Italy in war efforts, but until late in 1944, the Hungarian jewish population had been protected. That all changed 10 months prior to the end of the war when Hungary began talks to switch alliances. At that point, Hitler began the immediate deportation and extermination of the Hungarian Jews. We walked by a memorial on the Danube river of bronzed shoes. This was where local Jews where brought, shot and left in the river.

After the devastation of WWII, Budapest came under Communism rule. For about 45 years, the people lived the purest form of socialism, ruled by fear and violence. In 1989, between the year Zach was born and Molly, so much resistence to the leadership lead to the surrender of the rulers and a democratic republic was born. Not an easy transition either. Much unemployment, much hunger, difficult life for many.

As I walk around this city, I think of this history. I see old people on the streets, hunched over, walking with canes, carrying their grocery bags. I wonder what they have seen in there life time. I see a Jewish man, wearing a yamika (sp?). I wonder how he feels living here. I see kids my childrens age and think how much more the world can offer to them then what was offered to their parents. Some of the people look sad, grey, unhappy and I can understand why. But inside the somber body, the people we have met, seem genuinely kind and helpful and maybe this is a result of hope and new opportunity.

Hello, Budapest

2009-10-31T08:55:00.000-07:00

We flew from Geneve to Budapest on easyjet.com. Famous cheap international flights.....a little problematic on the times, but worth the savings.

First stop at the airport was to change our left over Suisse francs into Hungarian Forent. Crazy. The cashier handed me what appeared to be thousands of dollars. Paper bills worth 1,000 to 100,000 forent and coins that ranged from 5 to 500 forent. Problem is after conversion, the large bills turn into 1/226 of the face value, so 1,000 forent is like $5. Very confusing......after three days, I am starting to get comfortable with the money, but I did have to pull out the left over Suisse francs and Euros and put them in a different place......such a small continent to have so many different monies.

Our next challenge was getting to our hostel in this land of Hungarian and very different words and street names, but we did manage. I knew right away the country was friendly when a young girl and her mother helped Molly and I buy our train tickets in a funky coin operated machine. Upon arrival to our hostel, a yound man carried my luggage up 3 floors, as the elevator was out of service. He did it happily too.

Our hostel was in a 5 or 6 story building under renovation. It had various levels of security. Buzzer at front door. Code at main door. Code at next door. Key to hostel. Key to room. I felt very safe:) We went out and got some lunch (goulash) and took a long nap. Molly met some group from Australia she went out with that night and I enjoyed watching CNN in english and researching the city of Budapest.

Good-bye $witzerland

2009-10-28T13:55:00.000-07:00

Our last day in lovely $witzerland, we awoke in Zermatt, under down comforters to see the Matterhorn out our hostel window. I guess you get what you pay for. It was pretty spectacular.

We headed down to a breakfast and good coffee.....I was walking down the stairs sideways and slowly, after the 5 mile trek down the mountain the day before......there was no way we were going hiking again for awhile......but we had most of the day in this town, so we could (1) go up by train to Gornergrat or (2) go shopping. Hard choice. We decided it would be better to enjoy an experience instead of buy a new sweatshirt, so off we went to the mountain train.

A fun train ride up the steep mountainside. Beautiful views from the observation point. Warm sun against the patio rocks. Slippery trails and a cup of tea. We took many pictures and then headed back down to the valley in Zermott to take our train back to Vevey.

Mikael's dad picked us up at the train station in Vevey and took us back to his home. We did laundry, took showers, had pizza for dinner and packed to leave at 4:30 the next morning. Good-bye to the most gorgeous country, great fondues, expensive watches and good people. We enjoyed our hiatus from the road and the hospitality of both of Mikael's parents in their homes, but we were ready to get back on the road.......

The Matterhorn....not Disneyland...the Real Thing

2009-10-28T10:59:00.000-07:00

Monday, Molly and I get up early to catch a 7:30 train to Zermatt. This is the home of the most famous mountain in Switzerland and the namesake for the popular theme park ride at Disneyland….the Matterhorn. Zermatt is also a city with no cars.

We trained to the town of Visp, at which point we transferred into an old-fashioned, red and white, noisy, needs grease, train that pulls you one hour up the mountains closer to the Matterhorn. “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can” The views were amazing. The colorful fall trees, the mountain rivers, the yaks and sheep on the hillsides and the geologically astounding rocks. I kept taking pictures of the houses and buildings on the way~they all have slate roofs. Slate, not shake, not composition, not tile…….beautiful, huge pieces of slate. I know now that slate is cheaper in the area than wood.

We arrived in Zermatt, checked into our hostel (prices just keep amazing me….this hostel was $65 per night PER PERSON. I am changing the spelling of the country to $witerland) and headed off to take a gondola and go on a hike. We had both been wanting to hike and I think today, we got our fill.

In summary, we hiked about 18 km (12 miles?), almost 6 hours and an elevation gain of over 1,000 km (I don’t know, but it felt like a lot!). We hiked along glacier streams, past a dam, thru snow, mud and ice, thru alpine flora and a larch forest and little "hamlets" all to see the spectacular view of the north face of the Matterhorn. The "'Hamlets" are little tiny shacks that hearders use in the summertime as they move the cows and sheep around....... In all its glory and magnificence, the Matterhorn was all ours. Just ours alone, for one day, it was just ours.

We took a different route down, trying to catch the last gondola into Zermatt by 4:30. Needless to say, we missed it and had to walk an additional hour down to get back. The steep climb down smashed my toes, jammed my knees and made my legs shake, but, I made it along with Molly. Although exhausted and sore, it was a once in a lifetime adventure, that I think both of us will remember for a lifetime.

We were going to go hiking again the next day, but I think both of us had second thoughts…..a spa day would be lovely.