tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54035145795165246932024-03-19T12:29:54.561+01:00McRambles<i><center>"Not all those who wander are lost"</center></i> <center> --Bilbo Baggins</center>
<br>
<br>
We are the Mcs (mom, dad, kindergartner and toddler) blogging our transatlantic ramblings.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-87302975220288742032012-02-26T21:59:00.000+01:002012-02-26T21:59:11.923+01:00The Mcs greatest hits...we say goodbye to this stage of our life on Thursday, and b/c everyone's been asking, here's some of my favorites and bests.....<br />
<ul>
<li><strong>favorite family vacation</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2010/05/beach-pool-little-village-beach-pool.html" target="_blank">Algarve, Portugal</a> (hands down, didn't have to think twice)</li>
<li><strong>favorite European city</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2009/12/city-of-lights.html" target="_blank">Paris</a> (again, not even close. LOVE!)</li>
<li><strong>most AMAZING ancient sightseeing</strong>: Ephesus, Turkey (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>best book/movie sightseeing</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2009/06/raindrops-on-roses.html" target="_blank">Fraulein Maria's <em>Sound of Music</em> bike tour</a></li>
<li><strong>best WW2 history:</strong> <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2007/08/berlin.html" target="_blank">Berlin</a></li>
<li><strong>coolest kind of quirky destination</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2011/11/gobble-gobble.html" target="_blank">Thanksgiving Day in Leiden</a></li>
<li><strong>favorite Eastern europe destination</strong>: Wroclaw, Poland (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>favorite cheese town:</strong> Alkmaar, Holland (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>favorite harbor town</strong>: Volendam, Holland (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>most picturesque village</strong>: Riquewihr, France (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>best European meal</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/search/label/Portugal" target="_blank">Dona Barco Tavern in Portimao, Portugal</a> (now called O Barco)</li>
<li><strong>best shopping</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2009/11/catchin-up-poland.html" target="_blank">Boleslawiec</a> (and a yet unblogged 2nd trip)</li>
<li><strong>best main square</strong> <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2010/06/brussels.html" target="_blank">Brussels</a></li>
<li><strong>favorite girls' trip: </strong> <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2011/11/one-night-in-bangkok-aka-36-hours-in.html" target="_blank">London</a></li>
<li><strong>most surprising fun</strong>: 2 moms, 5 kids and a van <a href="http://www.pensionberghof.de/" target="_blank">just outside Regensburg, Germany</a> (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>favorite day trip</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2011/11/amsterdam-behind-scenes.html" target="_blank">Amsterdam</a></li>
<li><strong>oddest hotel</strong>: Mercure Hotel in Nuremburg (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>best Christmas market</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2010/03/christmas-markets.html" target="_blank">Trier</a></li>
<li><strong>most over-rated destination:</strong> Malta (not blogged yet)</li>
<li><strong>favorite local hangout</strong>: <a href="http://www.cafe-alteziegelei.de/index.php/de/kontakt.html" target="_blank">Cafe Liege</a></li>
<li><strong>most beautiful scenery</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/search/label/Scotland" target="_blank">Scottish Highlands</a></li>
<li><strong>best grown-up only destination: </strong><a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/search/label/Venice" target="_blank">Venice</a></li>
<li><strong>biggest, "whose wicked-cool life did I wander into by mistake?" moment</strong>: <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/search/label/St.%20Petersburg" target="_blank">the Russian Ballet</a></li>
<li><strong>favorite castle: </strong><a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/search/label/Vianden" target="_blank">Vianden</a></li>
<li><strong>place I most want to buy land and stay a while</strong>: Sicily (not blogged yet)</li>
</ul>
I'm sure once we get settled in stateside and the wanderlust hits, I'll eventually get around to blogging the unblogged portions of this list (as well as the many unblogged trips that didn't make the cut). It's certainly been a fabulous ride!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-15842876207549954902011-12-23T12:35:00.000+01:002011-12-23T17:56:43.716+01:00It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year...<div style="background-color: #6aa84f;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Merry Christmas! </span></div>
I didn't send letters with this year's Christmas Cards. Instead I directed folks to the blog. "Find our Christmas letter at mcrambles.blogspot.com," I said. I guess I better put up a Christmas letter, huh?<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eIH95ihYp28/TvRmJnR6KwI/AAAAAAAAAtk/wodQuhOJ_kg/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eIH95ihYp28/TvRmJnR6KwI/AAAAAAAAAtk/wodQuhOJ_kg/s200/003.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Nikolaus on the Christmas Train.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Dear friends, <br />
2011 has been a good year for us. The big news is that it's also been our last year in Europe and we move back to the states in March of 2012. We're going back from whence we came, to Warner Robins, Georgia. We are excited to be back in the South with its mild weather and plentiful sunshine. As you might imagine the details of moving are threatening to overrun the Holiday season, but for the most part I'm successfully keeping them in a box until the New Year.<br />
<br />
We've been so fortunate to be able to do oodles of traveling while living here, most of which you can read about by clicking the country categories on this site's navigation bar, so I won't rehash them here. (I am admittedly months behind in the travel blogging department. I usually get caught up in the Winter when the weather is so totally nasty that there's nothing more appealing than to sit inside at your computer, so if you're interested in our ramblings, be sure to check back.)<br />
<br />
As far as how life goes when we aren't out seeing the sights....<br />
<br />
The boys are 6 and 3. C started first grade this year. And he loves it. It was a bit of a transition at first as this is his first year in a traditional classroom, but he's taken to it well and I'm frequently amazed at both the depth and breadth of what he learns at school. He's at a DOD elementary school in a very small class with a supremely dedicated teacher. I think we've been spoiled, for sure! Here's hoping our tansition into the Georgia school system goes smoothly.<br />
<br />
This is B's second year in the German kindergarten and he continues to do well there. He'll frequently announce to me that when he's at kindergarten he's a German kid and when he's at home, he's an American kid. We're undecided if, when, or where he'll be doing any kind of preschool stateside, but I'm envisioning having to explain to him that he is actually an American kid, 24-7.<br />
<br />
D stays busy at work. Which is about all I can say about that, here. He was selected for Major this year and in between his stints here and there "saving" the world is one class away from finishing his Master's degree. We're proud of all his hard work.<br />
<br />
As for me, I manage to keep busy with all the typical SAHM things: volunteering at the elementary school, coffee with friends, playdates with pals, and when the weather's nice long walks and bike rides over the beautiful (but sometimes smelly) farm fields. I'm basically simply trying to soak up every last ounce of atmosphere before we leave. While I look forward to being back in the USA and having Publix and Target around the corner and to being able to complete a (as in ONE) load of laundry in under 4 hours, I love village life. I love being able to ride my bike to anywhere I need to go and am not at all looking forward to reacclimating to suburban sprawl.<br />
<br />
This time of year as the boys flip through toy catalogs and wander through stores and tell us all the things they want for Christmas, we try to talk them about Christmas really being about giving, not getting. (Mercifully, Armed Forces Network doesn't air commercials. Which stinks at Superbowl time, but is super convenient this time of year). Local organizations sponsor Angel Trees and we take them shopping for angel tree toys and try to explain to them how fortunate they are that they want for nothing. It seems that everywhere you turn these days, people are wanting. Times are hard, for many. There are lots of excellent charitable organizations out there doing outstanding work to meet the needs of those in need around the world. If you're considering additional holiday giving, but don't know where to direct your donations, consider some of these worthy organizations.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://rmhc.org/" target="_blank">The Ronald McDonald House</a></b> or the <b><a href="http://www.fisherhouse.org/" target="_blank">Fisher House</a></b> which provide lodging to family members of sick children and wounded warriors, keeping families together under devastating circumstances. <br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.gfa.org/gift/browse/from-the-stable/" target="_blank">Donate Animals</a></b> and feed a family. In most of Asia, rural economies dominate and donating chickens or milk-producing goats can provide a family mired in poverty with both food and longer term income generation.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://archive.constantcontact.com/fs046/1103655543543/archive/1108941181397.html" target="_blank">ENTRUST</a></b>, an organization founded by an old friend that uses professional mentorships and monetary donations to help local people in Haiti and Honduras create, manage, and grow their own businesses, breaking the cycle of poverty. <span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Their people- helping- people, invest- in-
the- community model of giving offers long term hope.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><b><a href="http://www.compassion.com/" target="_blank">Compassion International:</a></b> Sponsor a child; change a life.</span><br />
<br />
We hope you and yours are well this holiday season. There's not enough time left for us in Europe to invite you to visit us here, but if you find yourself traveling the I-75 corridor in middle Georgia and have time to sit-a-spell, holler at us!<br />
<br />
Do you facebook? If so, friend us. It's probably one of the easiest ways for us to not lose any of you as our contact information is constantly in flux.<br />
<br />
May your 2012 be filled with love, peace, and great joy!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">love,</span> The Mcs </span></span>:-)<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government
shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful,
Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.</b></i></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-91734227207201306632011-12-07T09:16:00.001+01:002011-12-12T11:15:21.207+01:00Operation Scenic Route to Spain<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wj1heu_VBwc/TuIu5u4glOI/AAAAAAAAAoE/D1BVsuDV73g/s1600/IMG_0995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wj1heu_VBwc/TuIu5u4glOI/AAAAAAAAAoE/D1BVsuDV73g/s200/IMG_0995.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
In Fourteen Hundred and Ninety Two (1492) Columbus sailed the ocean blue. In two-zero-one-one (2011) we did too; it was tons of fun!<br />
<br />
In the summer of 2010 we followed a big ol' Mouse all over Northern Europe. We had a great time on board Disney Cruise Line's (DCL) <i>The Disney Magic</i>, so much so that when I<b> <a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2010/08/tales-from-baltic.html" target="_blank">blogged that trip</a></b><a href="http://mcrambles.blogspot.com/2010/08/tales-from-baltic.html" target="_blank"> </a> I wrote at the end that I might just "space-A home for a visit next spring simply so we can cruise back to Europe with the Mouse."<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OumKDdyrXto/TuIriwaY6LI/AAAAAAAAAnE/jxWTTL8VEoM/s1600/IMG_0795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OumKDdyrXto/TuIriwaY6LI/AAAAAAAAAnE/jxWTTL8VEoM/s320/IMG_0795.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we spent a lot of time holding shirts</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ryHIxp_Iec/TuIsfHRQssI/AAAAAAAAAnU/BGEt32J-0fE/s1600/IMG_0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ryHIxp_Iec/TuIsfHRQssI/AAAAAAAAAnU/BGEt32J-0fE/s320/IMG_0857.JPG" width="200" /></a>Well, that's exactly what we did. The Disney magic left Port Canaveral May14 bound for Barcelona, Spain. She arrived two weeks later and in between stopped in the Bahamas; Funchal, Portugal; Gibraltar; and Cadiz, Spain. Of the 14 nights on board, 6 of those were at sea crossing the Atlantic between Castaway Cay, Bahamas and Portugal's Atlantic island, Madeira. Almost everything we've done over here falls somehow/someway into a "best ever" category, but it was indeed "the best ever" (or at least very very cool) to wake up on day 3 and look at the map on your stateroom TV and see the boat smack dab in the middle of the ocean, to stand at the rails and see nothing but ocean all around you and know that yep, there really is nothing but ocean all around you. Six days trapped on a cruise boat with no where to go but on another lap around the deck might be a little much on any other cruise line, but I think I could spend 6 weeks on a DCL cruise and not once feel the need to send anyone up the crow's nest looking for land. All the glowing things I wrote about our first DCL experience holds true, especially the dining room staff who made it their mission to get my picky two year old to eat something other than chocolate milk. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IWSlMDEpp8A/TuI14JNiZiI/AAAAAAAAAp0/jCxKF6Q4C40/s1600/IMG_1253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IWSlMDEpp8A/TuI14JNiZiI/AAAAAAAAAp0/jCxKF6Q4C40/s320/IMG_1253.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tuckered</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-20ydID6JZ48/TuIzGX2VssI/AAAAAAAAApE/JjPGzfZNNsQ/s1600/IMG_1147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-20ydID6JZ48/TuIzGX2VssI/AAAAAAAAApE/JjPGzfZNNsQ/s320/IMG_1147.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">luxury of time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And because this time there was more time, plus Grandma to pitch in with the kiddos, I got to do ALL the cheesy Disney things -- take the tour that explains the art and decor on board; learn how to draw Donald and Mickey, and test my trivial knowledge. (D and I cleaned up at TV theme song night, btw. No, we weren't latch key kids who spent every afternoon watching reruns on TBS, not at all.)<wink>. This trip there was time to go to all the broadway style productions and to see a number of movies, <i>King's Speech</i> and a red carpet PremEAR of <i>Pirates 4</i> among them. And there was more time to try all the yummy recipes on board and to pop into <b><a href="http://disneycruise.disney.go.com/ships-activities/ships/magic/dining/palo/" target="_blank">Palo</a></b>, the on board signature restaurant, for brunch. But with so many days at sea, we also had more time to interact with cast and crew, some of whom have really remarkable stories of how they ended up sailing with DCL. Surprisingly, there weren't very many kids on board, so a number of the staff took a special interest in mine, which made their two weeks even more fun. (And helped me feel less guilty all those days we left them on the boat while we went ashore exploring. Seriously, I didn't feel *that* guilty. I know what it is to navigate Europe with the pint-sized set. Furthermore,<i> they</i> know what it's like. I think all parties involved would agree that the kids spending port days in the Oceaneer Club is a win/win all around.)</wink><br />
<wink></wink><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y3jtKnj-YFI/TuInL4hk0VI/AAAAAAAAAl0/QyCC3TUZsD0/s1600/588365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y3jtKnj-YFI/TuInL4hk0VI/AAAAAAAAAl0/QyCC3TUZsD0/s200/588365.jpg" width="148" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83dG4aIJ6V4/TuInOzT8smI/AAAAAAAAAl8/EbyF6jYAULM/s1600/588193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83dG4aIJ6V4/TuInOzT8smI/AAAAAAAAAl8/EbyF6jYAULM/s320/588193.jpg" width="142" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YLcG0eb7htg/TuInoIVEakI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/VkwGPyqZcTs/s1600/640033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YLcG0eb7htg/TuInoIVEakI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/VkwGPyqZcTs/s320/640033.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pirate Night</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gMoiyDkOtSA/TuItbv0sOsI/AAAAAAAAAns/8QQJ3Z625zQ/s1600/IMG_0896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gMoiyDkOtSA/TuItbv0sOsI/AAAAAAAAAns/8QQJ3Z625zQ/s320/IMG_0896.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qh6debQehao/TuIq9kbs-vI/AAAAAAAAAm0/WuSGBI9SWgI/s1600/IMG_0754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qh6debQehao/TuIq9kbs-vI/AAAAAAAAAm0/WuSGBI9SWgI/s320/IMG_0754.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DZtnSlLBMKY/TuInny_ZZ5I/AAAAAAAAAmM/rnlcEwHUN60/s1600/662391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DZtnSlLBMKY/TuInny_ZZ5I/AAAAAAAAAmM/rnlcEwHUN60/s200/662391.jpg" width="160" /></a> (Full Disclosure: Some of my continued DCL enthusiasm comes from the fact that in the months since our eastbound transatlantic with Disney we have taken an eastern Mediterranean cruise with another major cruise line, and while that was a great trip with some of the most AMAZING sightseeing, the cruise experience on that other boat can't compare to DCL's. If we had never sailed with Disney, we would have loved sailing this other line, but as we had already sailed Disney we were left thinking this other company needed to find itself a stash of pixie dust somewhere)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--bIyewZPjiA/TuIrISMBp_I/AAAAAAAAAm8/7laLiOMPPkc/s1600/IMG_0773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--bIyewZPjiA/TuIrISMBp_I/AAAAAAAAAm8/7laLiOMPPkc/s320/IMG_0773.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castaway Cay</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Didn't much care about spending the day on CASTAWAY CAY (Disney's private Bahamian island) but that's mostly because we were coming off two weeks at our own private beach house (AKA Grandma's house).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n_uFuLsYVjw/TuIsyiWoVaI/AAAAAAAAAnc/ZLESl5yIeXc/s1600/IMG_0869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n_uFuLsYVjw/TuIsyiWoVaI/AAAAAAAAAnc/ZLESl5yIeXc/s200/IMG_0869.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">smak dab in the middle!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c3uE9zQY5Gs/TuI5OADTnEI/AAAAAAAAAq0/TOJNzTSHFSs/s1600/IMG_1350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c3uE9zQY5Gs/TuI5OADTnEI/AAAAAAAAAq0/TOJNzTSHFSs/s200/IMG_1350.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Rock"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My favorite port was GIBRALTAR. We took a van tour of the Rock, stopping at all the main sights --to see the Monkeys, and the bunkers -- and learning about the Rock's history. I can't really imagine what it must have been like living there before Spain opened it's borders. Our tour guide remembers going with his father on day long trips into Spain to shop. Day long trips because they had to get to and from Spain via a ferry from Morroco instead of simply walking 10 minutes to the border. Speaking of Morocco, I was supposed to spend a few days soaking up the African sun last winter and had to cancel at the last minute when my kid-care fell through. I only got slightly perturbed when we stopped to look out over the Straits of Gibraltar at Morocco and the African continent. Oh well, at least I now have pictures of Africa, even if I didn't get to step foot there. After touring we ate lunch in town and did some shopping. I designed my own champagne flutes at <b><a href="http://www.gibraltar-crystal.com/" target="_blank">Gibraltar Crystal</a></b>, where the crafters hand make their items on the island itself. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J9vxu3nEMEQ/TuI696CiRcI/AAAAAAAAArU/mVPPcqDaAz4/s1600/IMG_1319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J9vxu3nEMEQ/TuI696CiRcI/AAAAAAAAArU/mVPPcqDaAz4/s320/IMG_1319.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a final resting place!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8l83s48xVro/TuI5kGgmY2I/AAAAAAAAAq8/WsF6lHv3QQE/s1600/IMG_1300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8l83s48xVro/TuI5kGgmY2I/AAAAAAAAAq8/WsF6lHv3QQE/s320/IMG_1300.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WW2 Tunnels</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4nRHMZk0R14/TuI4RLz0qoI/AAAAAAAAAqs/xPhWJ-5rLJw/s1600/IMG_1292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4nRHMZk0R14/TuI4RLz0qoI/AAAAAAAAAqs/xPhWJ-5rLJw/s320/IMG_1292.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the most difficult landings anywhere. They have to shut down the road for planes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ExjN90STkXU/TuI4An4rEeI/AAAAAAAAAqc/Yj2-hyq4Z7w/s1600/IMG_1267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ExjN90STkXU/TuI4An4rEeI/AAAAAAAAAqc/Yj2-hyq4Z7w/s320/IMG_1267.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stalactites or is it Stalgmites?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AekguOaFeug/TuI2SRlASaI/AAAAAAAAAqE/IS3lz1A56NY/s1600/IMG_1258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AekguOaFeug/TuI2SRlASaI/AAAAAAAAAqE/IS3lz1A56NY/s320/IMG_1258.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AFRICA!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zx22Kb2TlME/TuI3WLZWuYI/AAAAAAAAAqU/QQXgeC2zhH8/s1600/IMG_1265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zx22Kb2TlME/TuI3WLZWuYI/AAAAAAAAAqU/QQXgeC2zhH8/s320/IMG_1265.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the most famous Gibraltan resident</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dTJsuvGkG9I/TuIuhnLw7YI/AAAAAAAAAn8/7iTPgjr4fDI/s1600/IMG_0999.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dTJsuvGkG9I/TuIuhnLw7YI/AAAAAAAAAn8/7iTPgjr4fDI/s320/IMG_0999.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">beautiful Madeiran flowers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FzC-NwwRm8w/TuIw2OX0wSI/AAAAAAAAAoc/8h4L_diKk4k/s1600/IMG_1013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FzC-NwwRm8w/TuIw2OX0wSI/AAAAAAAAAoc/8h4L_diKk4k/s200/IMG_1013.JPG" width="200" /></a>I also very much enjoyed MADEIRA, Portugal. We made port at Funchal and took a sightseeing bus up into the mountains. We saw some stunning scenery and ate a wonderful lunch of <b><a href="http://www.love-madeira.com/espada-fish.html" target="_blank">Espada</a>, </b>the local catch, at a cliffside patio cafe. Then, we rode the bus back downtown to shop for lace and wine. Here's another thing I like about DCL: We landed in Funchal on a Sunday, yet DCL made prior arrangements with some local shops to be open. (In contrast, that other cruise line put us ashore in Malta on a Sunday where not-a-thing but a few tacky souvenir stands and bars were open.) Because it was Sunday, we couldn't go to a tasting at the most famous of the Madeiran wine bars, but the wine shops we stopped into did tastings for us and of course we came home with several bottles of the famous spirit. The Bordal lace "factory" also opened and we saw where generations of Madeiran women have made lace products by hand; they still make their lace by hand at this factory. And although lace isn't really my style, I now have a far better appreciation of just how much work goes into producing one lace tablecloth.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yi_Kx5N_z6k/TuIxnjkXe_I/AAAAAAAAAok/8gE7V8Y25H8/s1600/IMG_1075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yi_Kx5N_z6k/TuIxnjkXe_I/AAAAAAAAAok/8gE7V8Y25H8/s320/IMG_1075.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our table</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yy7WwPTv76c/TuIwsdR195I/AAAAAAAAAoU/s5NBGK0mu4w/s1600/IMG_1069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yy7WwPTv76c/TuIwsdR195I/AAAAAAAAAoU/s5NBGK0mu4w/s320/IMG_1069.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">drying Espada</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: left;">
CADIZ: We spent one morning in Cadiz, a not-so-picturesque, yet very
"Spanish feeling" harbor town. We followed a self-guided walking tour
we picked up from the local TI office. We've done self-guided walking
tours all over Europe but what was unique and so user friendly about the
Cadiz tours is that the city has painted colored lines all throughout
town. They provide four walking tours and each is designated a color.
So if you're following the purple, Medieval District tour, you simply
wind your way through town following the purple painted line on the
ground. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jfSSOLhJAUY/TuIzWEGgjHI/AAAAAAAAApU/TjfjwgcsvAU/s1600/IMG_1162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jfSSOLhJAUY/TuIzWEGgjHI/AAAAAAAAApU/TjfjwgcsvAU/s320/IMG_1162.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cadiz Cathedral</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNwi72AFmW0/TuI1aoJaUPI/AAAAAAAAAps/mRZo3N6jE3I/s1600/IMG_1210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNwi72AFmW0/TuI1aoJaUPI/AAAAAAAAAps/mRZo3N6jE3I/s320/IMG_1210.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lush gardens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tslTgaXF0dw/TuI0b4BmV9I/AAAAAAAAApc/izlpBQL8FQ8/s1600/IMG_1227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tslTgaXF0dw/TuI0b4BmV9I/AAAAAAAAApc/izlpBQL8FQ8/s320/IMG_1227.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">War Memorial</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0H74V7-zbqg/TuJBBKtVLYI/AAAAAAAAAs0/dpA46ymkGtU/s1600/IMG_1460.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0H74V7-zbqg/TuJBBKtVLYI/AAAAAAAAAs0/dpA46ymkGtU/s320/IMG_1460.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Las Ramblas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I visited BARCELONA (and London and Paris and Munich and Rome) way
back in 1991 as high school Junior and it's been good fun to go back to
some of these cities now, as an adult, and compare today's experiences
to what my 16 year old self remembers. I was keen to visit Barcelona
this trip because back in 1991 <b><a href="http://www.barcelona-tourist-guide.com/en/gaudi/barcelona-gaudi.html" target="_blank">Gaudi's</a> </b>Cathedral
was 20 years less completed than it is today AND not open to the
public. This time not only did I get to walk around La Sagrada
Familia, but I also got to go inside. We left the boat early and
scooted to the subway and made the Cathedral our first stop. As it was,
we had to wait in line about 25 minutes. I'm guessing that by the time
we left, the line to get in was at least an hour, if not longer. After
learning all about Gaudi, we walked through Barcelona's oldest historic
district, following a Rick Steve's walking tour which happened to begin
at a square that was being occupied by Barcelona's unemployed youth. This was months before it became the cool thing to "occupy [insert
major city here]." (Although Barcelona's unemployment rate among young people is close to40 % percent, so you certainly understand the frustration). The
Barcelona police were in the process of trying to clear the square when
we got there. Barcelona's futbol team was playing in a championship
game that night and the city anticipated needing the square for
victorious futbol celebrations. Except, we found all this out later.
At the time all we saw were lines of police in full riot gear, oodles of
news crews, and helicopters circling overhead. In researching the
event, it apparently <b><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/may/27/spanish-protesters-clash-with-police" target="_blank">got pretty ugly</a></b>,
but fortunately we were there ahead of or behind the real
violence. We also spent a couple hours strolling Las Ramblas before
heading back to the boat for dinner and one last evening on board before
disembarking.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-76kZoNDt19Y/TuJBL25D4lI/AAAAAAAAAs8/UE-rTFrzGp0/s1600/IMG_1491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-76kZoNDt19Y/TuJBL25D4lI/AAAAAAAAAs8/UE-rTFrzGp0/s320/IMG_1491.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barcelona Market</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J0oDGW-CXO0/TuI_Dt2umTI/AAAAAAAAAsc/I8l4l_uHrsY/s1600/IMG_1430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J0oDGW-CXO0/TuI_Dt2umTI/AAAAAAAAAsc/I8l4l_uHrsY/s320/IMG_1430.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">school children celebrating</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JJz9U0QzEvY/TuI_4N-TItI/AAAAAAAAAsk/FZyLmEJdCuw/s1600/IMG_1409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JJz9U0QzEvY/TuI_4N-TItI/AAAAAAAAAsk/FZyLmEJdCuw/s200/IMG_1409.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">people protesting</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SdMbXS3oKuc/TuI9yVXNcmI/AAAAAAAAAsM/OyheyEYCQv4/s1600/IMG_1407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SdMbXS3oKuc/TuI9yVXNcmI/AAAAAAAAAsM/OyheyEYCQv4/s200/IMG_1407.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">helicopters circling</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KurRbeXbPkM/TuI9GWTsbeI/AAAAAAAAAr0/YccFFNqmvmU/s1600/IMG_1401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KurRbeXbPkM/TuI9GWTsbeI/AAAAAAAAAr0/YccFFNqmvmU/s400/IMG_1401.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A0ZHx4R9iWU/TuI77pweANI/AAAAAAAAArk/bOZ3bIbVrWs/s1600/IMG_1371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A0ZHx4R9iWU/TuI77pweANI/AAAAAAAAArk/bOZ3bIbVrWs/s400/IMG_1371.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gaudi's Passion</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Having spent 26 nights, total, cruising with DCL, I'm still one of
their biggest fans. I can't tell you how disappointed I am our move
back to the States isn't going to coincide with a westbound
transatlantic reposition. BUT, I've heard a rumor that DCL is planning a
Mediterranean itinerary out of Venice in 2013 and if the stars
align........<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-73549280588779169362011-12-05T02:00:00.000+01:002011-12-12T11:35:46.278+01:00Gobble! Gobble!I haven't yet made my top-five-coolest-things-we-did-in-Europe list, so I'm not sure which of our ramblings will make the cut. But whenever I do make such a list, our Thanksgiving day adventure in Leiden definitely gets a spot.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5H5EffPbaFsW5RW5dmHjFLwc9b7hkFCniWy7vLgEShUtwJRjC9VfFGtF2gPWYa-xNefM9YNhaDWnJG0_pO6xWDPOp3FXwkzXwnb0PtIWP1rAqLuPdrsEwYufLewlqQ_s8xvRsEiKQ3Y/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5H5EffPbaFsW5RW5dmHjFLwc9b7hkFCniWy7vLgEShUtwJRjC9VfFGtF2gPWYa-xNefM9YNhaDWnJG0_pO6xWDPOp3FXwkzXwnb0PtIWP1rAqLuPdrsEwYufLewlqQ_s8xvRsEiKQ3Y/s400/022.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leiden Centrum</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Not many Americans in my neck of the woods have heard about the American Thanksgiving service held each year at the <b><a href="http://www.pieterskerk.com/nl/">St. Pieter's Kerk</a></b> in Leiden, sponsored by the organization Overseas Americans Remember.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">(*I can't find a good web link to the organization, but they sponsor a half-dozen events a year, all in the Amesterdam or Den Haag area. In addition to the Thanksgiving service, they organize a MLK breakfst, a Friendship celebration in April, commemorating the date Holland first recognized the USA as an independent nation, a 4th of July celebration, a "Who's Your President" breakfast, the day after election day.)</span><br />
<br />
Why Leiden??? The group of early-American settlers we usually call the Pilgrims lived in Leiden from 1609-1620. It is from Leiden that they boarded the <i>Speedwell</i> and left for the New World. The Speedwell wasn't sea worthy, however, and they made land back in Southern England and tried again this time on the <i>Mayflower.</i><br />
<br />
Our plan for they day was this: leave early enough to make the 2.5 hour drive to Leiden and be at the church by 11. Grab a snack. Head to the Pilgrim Museum. Eat Thanksgiving dinner. Drive home. <br />
If you go, note that parking in Leiden is more than difficult. There's really no parking at the train station, and very little down town. There are two lots (one at the Groenoordhallen and one on Haagweg) where parking is plentiful and from where free shuttle buses run to the city centre. The shuttle buses run until 2:00 AM and parking is cheap, by Dutch standards. We paid about 10 euros for the whole day.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMPb5hY_NUnaQVGfYfSE8obgN0GfUEAjm0Dstr1J-R6adO0bnZdZHxu_Xu1pLZ1hP51bqfnd2bMJjECVCg1yzUnkkN41JA2j_VX6DhTUpYS2umciAzz-aA0z16eopz1ZJhx2pYnSLZgm8/s1600/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMPb5hY_NUnaQVGfYfSE8obgN0GfUEAjm0Dstr1J-R6adO0bnZdZHxu_Xu1pLZ1hP51bqfnd2bMJjECVCg1yzUnkkN41JA2j_VX6DhTUpYS2umciAzz-aA0z16eopz1ZJhx2pYnSLZgm8/s400/014.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Pieter's Kerk interior</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The church service was well attended, with about 400 people. Attendees were mostly Americans and the day began with a civic service including the presentation of the colors, patriotic songs, and historical readings. I had forgotten that before he was the nation's second President, John Adams had been the ambassador to the Netherlands and that he and his wife, Abigail, had written about their respective visits to Leiden. The letters of Abigail Adams constitute a chapter of my now-irrelevant-opus, so I should have made the connection between Adams and Leiden before she was quoted in the civic part of the service. If you want to read the letter that Adams wrote her sister about her visit to Leiden, her travels throughout Holland, and her insight into the importance of the relationship between Holland and young America, you can see an online version,<b> <a href="http://www.familytales.org/dbDisplay.php?id=ltr_aba3423&year=1786">here</a> . </b><br />
<br />
While Pilgrim leader John Robinson is buried in St Peter's church, most of today's historians agree it is unlikely that the Pilgrims actually worshiped in the church; they were a fringe religious group in Leiden society, and as such likely held their services in smaller, less official venues. Although, they most certainly were in the church from time to time.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cjLxzMRdogaZPECwi5lUpXPwnX0LsTUdkWIt6ZvcK9An8TPnm2urxHrF_10UFt-uAXeiujoNiftDzWMafoA395yCnaAmapbDlmY8518EMcsE2W79RwUlEGsyFFq1qRoObR4GizLyGAw/s1600/039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cjLxzMRdogaZPECwi5lUpXPwnX0LsTUdkWIt6ZvcK9An8TPnm2urxHrF_10UFt-uAXeiujoNiftDzWMafoA395yCnaAmapbDlmY8518EMcsE2W79RwUlEGsyFFq1qRoObR4GizLyGAw/s400/039.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is <a href="http://www.sacred-destinations.com/netherlands/leiden-hooglandsekerk">Hooglandse Kerk</a> .Can you believe I didn't take a picture of the outside of St. Pieter's Kerk?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sacred-destinations.com/netherlands/leiden-hooglandsekerk"></a><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After the civic service, there was an interdenominational religious service, consisting mainly of hymns and readings, representing Catholic, Jewish, and various protestant traditions. There was no sermon to speak of, simply various members of the American community in North Holland, sharing personal Thanksgiving reflections. (This part of the service was kind of labored-- didn't need to hear quite so many variations on the theme. One or two would have been plenty.) Kids were definitely most welcome. The church is very large, and a number of families with little ones stayed near the back while their restless ones toddled around the narthex. We sat on one of the less crowded wings, to minimize whatever distractions the kids might throw in. B watched a movie during most of the service (which clocked in at close to 90 minutes). C was interested in the singing and the musical performances, but he played his DS during many of the readings and reflections.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqwmKda9R25F_TFK_pHrzmGHCbOnl98OOwvpxr1G1-39EhLisHhFyMO-sYw-yTGXHeeNzlpb2V-pO2EweGZ-txfEvNftXAlY0T3LNKbqo9d2niKBUTkmhzRRUZOAQm4whB6vdix0AWBk/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqwmKda9R25F_TFK_pHrzmGHCbOnl98OOwvpxr1G1-39EhLisHhFyMO-sYw-yTGXHeeNzlpb2V-pO2EweGZ-txfEvNftXAlY0T3LNKbqo9d2niKBUTkmhzRRUZOAQm4whB6vdix0AWBk/s320/030.JPG" width="320" /></a>At the conclusion of the service, they served coffee and cookies and we toured the church, which has an impressive pipe organ above the altar. Then we moseyed Leiden, grabbed a quick bite at the local Bagels and Beans, and popped over to the <b><a href="http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/%7Enetlapm/Page12.htm">Pilgrim Museum</a></b>, a very very small museum commemorating the Pilgrims' years in Leiden. The Pilgrim Museum was very crowded (probably their busiest day of the year), so we didn't stay long. As the weather was lovely, we meandered some more, over to the <b><a href="http://www.castles.nl/leid/leid.html">Leiden Castle</a></b>. Leiden's Castle is really simply a fort, but it offers fabulous panoramic views of the town, is free, and perfectly suited for boisterous little boys to storm and climb. Who needs playgrounds when there's 12th century ruins around? After our little legs finished exploring, we meandered some more, over to the train station, in order to grab a train up to Amsterdam to partake in our traditional Thanksgiving dinner.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMytHIjxVhyphenhyphenERmSvbukFXcrMV_NQbY9ivwv7yb204ALOCpU2GAamld2J-lhdectbXV7Dul03ifuRhhmy8tvULGXQ2bF35w5Ll571Da3ED_8z3__fxOmTUcnYYESPBQtZl1eNLdWLx_9I/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMytHIjxVhyphenhyphenERmSvbukFXcrMV_NQbY9ivwv7yb204ALOCpU2GAamld2J-lhdectbXV7Dul03ifuRhhmy8tvULGXQ2bF35w5Ll571Da3ED_8z3__fxOmTUcnYYESPBQtZl1eNLdWLx_9I/s320/041.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My littlest turkey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Holiday Inn in Leiden was offering a traditional Turkey and all the trimmings buffet, but didn't open until 18:30 and we wanted to eat a little earlier so we could still make it home at a decent hour. The only other establishment google led me to that promised traditioanl Thanksgiving fare was the Hard Rock Cafe in Amsterdam, which turned out to be a fabulous choice as Hard Rock Cafes are usually loud, perfect for masking the loudness we bring with us. Dinner consisted of corn chowder, turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, dressing (stuffing), broccoli, and pumpkin pie. And it was good. Not as good as my home made feast would've been, but better than what I was expecting.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vlrlL78uJfsESzx2N85DWZfxgJjmYMZU5F5i1wfuTH8FEPuEhjpklA5V5RfAx_iG7E6l9TM4DJmC3bhpJb_m7rETyaDsMmrNgGijsQa1xKoqHIbB74iK7VOkS5dC7iNs7P_r985EC2U/s1600/046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vlrlL78uJfsESzx2N85DWZfxgJjmYMZU5F5i1wfuTH8FEPuEhjpklA5V5RfAx_iG7E6l9TM4DJmC3bhpJb_m7rETyaDsMmrNgGijsQa1xKoqHIbB74iK7VOkS5dC7iNs7P_r985EC2U/s320/046.JPG" width="213" /></a>While we caught a tram from Amsterdam Central Station to Leidesplein and the Hard Rock, we walked back. Each little square along the way was decorated with lights and festive with mini markets of Gluhwein and waffles.We found <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dam_Square">Dam Square</a> </b> jam packed with people waiting for the famous <b><a href="http://www.iamsterdam.com/en/whats-on/events/december/christmas/turn-on-the-lights">De Bijenkorf</a> </b>department store to turn on its lights.<br />
<br />
As you might imagine it was a really really long day and the kiddos, whom I often brag about here for being fabulous goers and doers, weren't in their most cooperative state, but 'twas still an unbelievably wonderful experience, even handicapped with whiny munchkins. (Both of whom fell asleep the instant their heads touched their car seats, so at least it was a peaceful drive home). We were most certainly the only non-North Holland dwellers present in Leiden that day, many were surprised we drove all the way up from Limburg to give thanks, but if you ever find yourself anywhere near Leiden the fourth Thursday in November, make it a point to stop and take in a little trans-atlantic history.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-66251567762712154162011-11-19T12:01:00.000+01:002011-11-20T12:06:36.593+01:00One night in Bangkok (AKA 36 hours in London)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAE_QnVlTvw5tYwBHX82p36DuyzRSHLXJvOlM8HDA6NHMpaGun-Ky3LSuV2JhDu0A5Vi-7tVaM5LAjQON554k7cX2j6nQrZkXBuVm2vsbYttSk9HWy1-TVb5vLR2FDSmyI0oO6htCEUc/s1600/IMG_6799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAE_QnVlTvw5tYwBHX82p36DuyzRSHLXJvOlM8HDA6NHMpaGun-Ky3LSuV2JhDu0A5Vi-7tVaM5LAjQON554k7cX2j6nQrZkXBuVm2vsbYttSk9HWy1-TVb5vLR2FDSmyI0oO6htCEUc/s320/IMG_6799.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> Here's the secret to a successful European assignment: It's all about the bucket list.<br />
<br />
We've done lots and lots of traveling in the three years we've been rambling (more traveling than evidenced by this here blog). Admittedly, my list was over ambitious to begin with, and truthfully grew a bit out of control once we got here and started swapping stories with our jet-setting buddies, but with four short months left on our current European go-round, I still had three major trips left. Normandy and Northern Portugal will likely have to wait for another day, but thanks to an agreeable husband and a good friend with a matching list seeing the London production of <i><a href="http://www.wickedthemusical.co.uk/">Wicked</a></i>..... CHECK!<br />
<br />
It was a whirlwind trip, leaving home Friday AM, back in time for Saturday dinner, but without the kids in tow, we covered a lot of British ground. We flew into Gatwick, grabbed the fast train into the city, jumped off at Victoria Station, giggled with glee when we passed the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo_Victoria_Theatre">Apollo Victoria Theatre</a> and its larger than life Wicked marquis, stashed the bags at our hotel, and promptly headed out for an afternoon of sightseeing before that night's performance.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTgsYftxyeA3GE34ckYMtBTD8maPO6IfUBHLIz423pAK0DDjec2fcizggd0FJBBahfFU1PRQyNY1XcOJl7MOG5xezwnEYPLpec2QEMKL26FrWsvB4DknWYI7xjtCSFlh6Hgjrr0pdrz8/s1600/IMG_6796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTgsYftxyeA3GE34ckYMtBTD8maPO6IfUBHLIz423pAK0DDjec2fcizggd0FJBBahfFU1PRQyNY1XcOJl7MOG5xezwnEYPLpec2QEMKL26FrWsvB4DknWYI7xjtCSFlh6Hgjrr0pdrz8/s200/IMG_6796.JPG" width="200" /></a>We made it to Harrods and saw Big Ben and Parliament. We happened upon a small Occupy London protest, the bulk of the protesters having gone home and taken the day off in honor of Armistice Day. We toured Westminster Abbey and breathed the royal air, realizing that if you were a regular-ol-guest at William and Kate's nuptials, you really couldn't see very much as the choir stalls blocked the view for most of the congregation. (Family and VIPs were seated right behind the altar, in front of the choir stalls). Then we ducked into a cafe for a champagne tea, stepped into <a href="http://www.westminstercathedral.org.uk/art_history.php">Westminster Cathedral</a> and walked back to our hotel to change clothes before the show began.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7dYMrB2id_SGdfCmfRsk31tGDJ4BlawVpo2jausAdNzSCmhlv6cUPofokMx8h9nK9M1xvKUY82894_NbmxnDp26PzEnaLfOfhA342ldguohSCPijkvN0IslUaFhne7090AMJJQTrgx0/s1600/IMG_20111112_102718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7dYMrB2id_SGdfCmfRsk31tGDJ4BlawVpo2jausAdNzSCmhlv6cUPofokMx8h9nK9M1xvKUY82894_NbmxnDp26PzEnaLfOfhA342ldguohSCPijkvN0IslUaFhne7090AMJJQTrgx0/s320/IMG_20111112_102718.jpg" width="239" /></a> The performance was outstanding. It's a little ironic that seeing this particular musical made it onto my bucket list, as I *hated* the novel, but <i>Wicked, the Musical </i>is far better written than <i>Wicked, the novel</i>. Its story is more streamlined, its characters and their motivations more clearly developed, and its intertextual connections to the original <i>Wizard of Oz </i>more skillfully utilized. The signature number, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdpUgrrzQV8">Defying Gravity</a>, is indeed a show stopper. (The link is to a you tube video, if you wanna see). Now that I've seen the London version, I do believe seeing the New York production tops my stateside list, even though most reviewers report the production quality in London is better.<br />
<br />
After the show, we wandered down the street and into a local watering hole, closing down the pub drinking warm ale with a bunch a middle aged locals. (British Ale is typically served warm and the pub's last call wast midnight, so closing it down wasn't that much of a feat). The next AM it was back to the airport for our flight home. Lots more of London to see, for sure, but I feel like we saw and did enough to make the short trip worth it. Made some great memories with a great gal-pal and most importantly, showed that blasted list who's boss. :PUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-31103540484813614972011-11-18T20:46:00.001+01:002011-11-18T21:02:24.186+01:00Amsterdam: Behind the ScenesAs if spending a day in Amsterdam, sans kiddos, with a friend wouldn't be fun enough, this summer I managed some time off for good behavior and got to go to one of Amsterdam's <a href="http://www.grachtenmusea.nl/engels/open_tuinen_dagen.php">Open Garden Days</a>. Each June, 30-40 of Amsterdam's canal side homes open their doors to allow you to walk through their first floors and sneak a peek at their gardens out back. Some of the homes are private residences, some are businesses (law firms and such) and others are smaller, lesser known museums. I had no idea Amsterdam had so many specialty museums. Because the neighboring buildings often cast deep shadows into the gardens, there aren't a lot of flowering plants. The gardens are mostly green, well planned and nicely manicured with fountains and statues for added interest. Because there's a limited number of shade-loving plants out there, after visiting 8-10 homes, the gardens started to feel derivitive, but it was beyond awesome to get a quick glimpse into the inside of some of the canal homes and short peeks into museums that otherwise I'd never visit. So, without further ado, onto the pictures. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZwUTmchlMDXx4IWWoH-Bgi3RSI-8nFmSFFaQ2K6h3lvpiaxGmE3Ejii8cxzMsDhZ7-UpqCOTm7ZoXCmpIdfzCLhPawrnw1rmwytmAZZIpwKNS-4PZaBr10JFWZwHF0OlBSx8_Mmnk24/s1600/garden1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZwUTmchlMDXx4IWWoH-Bgi3RSI-8nFmSFFaQ2K6h3lvpiaxGmE3Ejii8cxzMsDhZ7-UpqCOTm7ZoXCmpIdfzCLhPawrnw1rmwytmAZZIpwKNS-4PZaBr10JFWZwHF0OlBSx8_Mmnk24/s320/garden1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a private home; the most colorful of the gardens</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDD0poI6VVrfzwZXqNddF28SwroyZ9LORoiAi0zNdJFbuwCr9LKvb8dppuESWkV987qwxOVjzK2_UZfDl6TNq2yJ9wE57KcpiZPIyJEcx4hPWE-Qgefc4VI5no79X87Isg6OGNVs3Oc0/s1600/garden2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDD0poI6VVrfzwZXqNddF28SwroyZ9LORoiAi0zNdJFbuwCr9LKvb8dppuESWkV987qwxOVjzK2_UZfDl6TNq2yJ9wE57KcpiZPIyJEcx4hPWE-Qgefc4VI5no79X87Isg6OGNVs3Oc0/s320/garden2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a private home; there's a WW2 bunker in the back corner</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFU17CxskNwps0tN-Q57g_KF3smdJex0WUUOyHij2sTyJyElYEj_R4iqdiev6rTizkaBOu79rGPTxNwI_X9Jx1DdHuBmabXhTSjJLnQuqJdRP03c4Wjg_k4JzHLm9RhlJOTL2oZ0HIgas/s1600/garden3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFU17CxskNwps0tN-Q57g_KF3smdJex0WUUOyHij2sTyJyElYEj_R4iqdiev6rTizkaBOu79rGPTxNwI_X9Jx1DdHuBmabXhTSjJLnQuqJdRP03c4Wjg_k4JzHLm9RhlJOTL2oZ0HIgas/s320/garden3.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">given the relative narrowness of the homes, often surprised at the amount of space out back</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEWr5q3rvMxmJJeXo59vLaGV987ThPJxUh7UTJX4jVeBBtc11UDZEQ7iObJPV-v8ZN4Ylgs67R56j6v12w_663_M82beXm2tK6ZrgMLsvKg9v3rakVZdRxpqD15AR6D_Hwu6lekLDKaw/s1600/garden4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEWr5q3rvMxmJJeXo59vLaGV987ThPJxUh7UTJX4jVeBBtc11UDZEQ7iObJPV-v8ZN4Ylgs67R56j6v12w_663_M82beXm2tK6ZrgMLsvKg9v3rakVZdRxpqD15AR6D_Hwu6lekLDKaw/s320/garden4.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garden at <a href="http://geelvinck.nl/">Museum Geelvinck Hinlopen Huis</a> </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheiL2AvjUajWyMmTF14kyV_ntdctPVEkJ4OZWP5MS2RmgVRwNg4p6VZk3mcAXY1Xa-DbgaVR3A-qYBr-1CDSopjTEMzkUA4B2l16IrAjN_tvv46inohY9y1FrK5-ulRJrMn-TK8gPLTvk/s1600/garden5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheiL2AvjUajWyMmTF14kyV_ntdctPVEkJ4OZWP5MS2RmgVRwNg4p6VZk3mcAXY1Xa-DbgaVR3A-qYBr-1CDSopjTEMzkUA4B2l16IrAjN_tvv46inohY9y1FrK5-ulRJrMn-TK8gPLTvk/s320/garden5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old "Waloon Orphanage for Boys and Girls" The ladder is a sculpture. The garden was once divided: one side for the boys. One side for the girls.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzg5rnztnQ-BLJXXIkRVhwkQxnucwEEvmjLRjz0wEU0-mbtfFpuDrxOSXi-FXWgnkOF1pP3-AkBFecUBQk0fH8-MdTwEboniX4fc6QCG6BZuRdTYaPe7mK9OEWiMDsM_Ijdf_lEPR1l8/s1600/garden6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzg5rnztnQ-BLJXXIkRVhwkQxnucwEEvmjLRjz0wEU0-mbtfFpuDrxOSXi-FXWgnkOF1pP3-AkBFecUBQk0fH8-MdTwEboniX4fc6QCG6BZuRdTYaPe7mK9OEWiMDsM_Ijdf_lEPR1l8/s320/garden6.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">see the open door, had to walk right through the house to get to the garden</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VUKIbaWPJZ8SjBlx2z1_pn358Q74zMYBf_wwQW-SXSV2eQ6lUuInBmbvXd1pXSEBoLFON8U85CHC4THV6GxYWSWEE8HQBSZnWKveMKM9vSIf-rjV4GLmO6E1pMrIYumhJTlOClGxgsA/s1600/garden7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VUKIbaWPJZ8SjBlx2z1_pn358Q74zMYBf_wwQW-SXSV2eQ6lUuInBmbvXd1pXSEBoLFON8U85CHC4THV6GxYWSWEE8HQBSZnWKveMKM9vSIf-rjV4GLmO6E1pMrIYumhJTlOClGxgsA/s320/garden7.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">leaning canal side homes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
My favorite gardens were the boys/girl orphanage and the <a href="http://www.bijbelsmuseum.nl/english.aspx?ID=1&frame=2&zaal=000">Bijbels (Bible) Museum</a>. The Bible Museum has stocked its garden with plants mentioned in the Bible and then displayed them with corresponding Bible verses. I still can't figure how the climate in Northern Europe and ancient Mesopotamia is similar enough to make such a garden practical, but now I know what a Acacia and a Judas tree looks like (among others). Oh, and it was also kind of funny to catch the neighbors of one home on the tour walking around in their PJs and robes --at 3pm-- looking out their window, almost surprised at all the gawkers in the garden next door looking back.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(**All photos courtesy of RB, my camera-toting partner in crime for the day)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-76450662430564451452011-07-10T12:36:00.001+02:002011-07-10T13:20:36.997+02:00I'm a big kid now!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KhVl-vTr4LEr9Q2Y39pGXSROR_P5WRRton6-22Jw0R87S2TqAjPflNx7-eIU0bSszpAqJziDzqciO9Zyzue_wUO5ARKDN0wmMbNpsjso3D2rlENJNA3jDk6ZlAXXeYltOsV0V0FZEi4/s1600/IMG_1856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KhVl-vTr4LEr9Q2Y39pGXSROR_P5WRRton6-22Jw0R87S2TqAjPflNx7-eIU0bSszpAqJziDzqciO9Zyzue_wUO5ARKDN0wmMbNpsjso3D2rlENJNA3jDk6ZlAXXeYltOsV0V0FZEi4/s400/IMG_1856.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKsTBj9xL9r-anlK5sz3gJWON9WBEPOi8XP_SLaJl2tmL1V57rOneisfEHH4gvi9eRTbIHUlsN9KuWZJznuhE-_c9N-UYLC284LziFUJ-zJlT4b1qtcJYD3nAt3Zar7bUAZJc5PN8rD4/s1600/IMG_1835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKsTBj9xL9r-anlK5sz3gJWON9WBEPOi8XP_SLaJl2tmL1V57rOneisfEHH4gvi9eRTbIHUlsN9KuWZJznuhE-_c9N-UYLC284LziFUJ-zJlT4b1qtcJYD3nAt3Zar7bUAZJc5PN8rD4/s320/IMG_1835.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> B's three year old birthday passed a couple of weeks ago. He celebrated in style with marble cupcakes at a morning Kindergarten party. Then he whooped it up some more that evening with presents, pizza, ice cream cake, and a trampoline jump fest. <br />
<br />
A few months back he and I began discussing how three-year-olds were big boys and didn't need diapers. He could talk a big game how there'd be no more diapers when he turned three, but he didn't seem all that motivated to follow all that talk with action. I tried stickers, and candy, books and toys.... nothing doing. Like everything else this child does, he does it his way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NZ-y1HvocRvbaJdduuwfi60rdTzSNyDaXcXYYnFuLDILozqFHTZxYOJrhsmBQWYr7RaqDhjckWB7y_-9wR587mV4K1N3-mSxzr0Q4kh4_MQmvDfaeN-REzxBaIFOgzmQln9AxzPSVbY/s1600/IMG_1807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NZ-y1HvocRvbaJdduuwfi60rdTzSNyDaXcXYYnFuLDILozqFHTZxYOJrhsmBQWYr7RaqDhjckWB7y_-9wR587mV4K1N3-mSxzr0Q4kh4_MQmvDfaeN-REzxBaIFOgzmQln9AxzPSVbY/s320/IMG_1807.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>He woke up on the 4th of July (6 days post birthday) and simply declared he was wearing big boy pants to Kindergarten and that's been that. Looks like we successfully avoided the prolonged pull up phase and we got it taken care of *before* I ran out of my pre-paid diapers.<br />
<br />
What are pre-paid diapers you ask? <br />
<br />
Before we left the states I bought <b>$800</b> worth of diapers from Costco. The movers who packed us out, joshed me about filling an entire crate with diapers ( 25 boxes of Kirkland's supreme-- which btw are made by Kimberly Clark and just like Huggies, if you're a Huggies fan). The Dutch movers who moved us in asked, "Are American diapers different than German diapers?" Most of my gal-pals have had a good-natured chuckle at my diaper stash beneath the stairs. And because GK is such a small community, there's been at least one new friend who upon meeting me for the first time, in an effort to put a face with a name exclaimed, "so you're the one who moved over all those diapers!"<br />
<br />
Well People: -- <br />
32 months and 23 boxes of diapers later, I finally did the math. (Yes, I have two boxes left). Those 25 boxes, approximately 4000 diapers, would have cost me the equivalent of <b>$1500</b> on the local economy. Plus, it's hard to get Huggies over here (except at the Commissary and even with coupons Commissary Huggies are more expensive than Pampers at the Real or DM). I'm a Huggies gal through and through, so ultimately would have been paying almost double for diapers I liked less. <br />
<br />
I'm thinking I now have<b> $700</b> worth of Mad Money to my credit. Hmmmmm? Girls trip anyone?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-5586494582610095932011-03-31T09:36:00.009+02:002011-03-31T09:47:50.822+02:00Luxembourg<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7E2zo7z2Cl-ZpMwT46VM3F3-__4QKnf2stjequwHgDBwLaAa51uavBOFX2NSVG_Yi-NniJFlfuQmj3vt9lTxSz8Lvy_52K9qwUiexbxBER4Z0YEPENnXUkOXu0x9SkyojcKL2xyAt5hQ/s1600/DSC05246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7E2zo7z2Cl-ZpMwT46VM3F3-__4QKnf2stjequwHgDBwLaAa51uavBOFX2NSVG_Yi-NniJFlfuQmj3vt9lTxSz8Lvy_52K9qwUiexbxBER4Z0YEPENnXUkOXu0x9SkyojcKL2xyAt5hQ/s320/DSC05246.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I'm not sure whether to call Luxembourg the local area or not. It's within such easy striking distance, it's really day-trippable. We, however, opted to stay overnight at a nearby air force base offering cheap, family-friendly accommodations and an opportunity to stock up on some American staples.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXWJ7GxnODFQnNrmM4QqAPGwMc7VFiX_uWwYDVVjtrcIR-aOREDcM-XFLEhlfP_6QNW-rti0FrwiwYo79uvuM409uFLoabGM8M6xm_Mf-DBV9__tN23E5eOourjDEUQ4l934EbkgM-jE/s1600/DSC05316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXWJ7GxnODFQnNrmM4QqAPGwMc7VFiX_uWwYDVVjtrcIR-aOREDcM-XFLEhlfP_6QNW-rti0FrwiwYo79uvuM409uFLoabGM8M6xm_Mf-DBV9__tN23E5eOourjDEUQ4l934EbkgM-jE/s320/DSC05316.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We spent Saturday morning in Vianden, exploring the most kid-friendly castle we've yet to encounter. It's not stroller friendly, lots of steps, but my young 2 year old easily walked it. It's small enough to not bore/tire the kiddos. And while there are exhibits (armor, knives, tableware), the exhibits are centered in large rooms which makes it easy to run interference and keep the kids from touching anything. There are occasionally guided tours, more in the summertime, but as we visited in October, we took the self guided route. Bottom line: it is an invitingly trompable castle, with little boy adventures waiting around every bend, especially if you visit off-season (as evidenced by all the pictures of my boys tromping). For any local readers who are now German-castle-skittish, having made the drive to Burg Eltz only to be kicked out because your kid breathed funny, never fear, Vianden is the castle for you. We've yet to make it to Bavaria and the Cinderella-esque Neuschwanstein, but Chateau Vianden perched in the Luxembourg hills, though small, is as scenic as we've seen to date. <br />
<br />
As an added bonus, Vianden is a super cute little town, reminiscent of Monschau, but filled with cute antique shops and friendly bistros. Side note: Victor Hugo frequently vacationed in Vianden and just as I couldn't buy a copy of<i> Les Mis</i> in the Paris sewers nor could I buy a copy of it or even<i> Hunchback</i> at the Victor Hugo house in Vianden. REALLY!?! Someone needs a new marketing director, for sure. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRLDfn6Fl377SIeDKtX0a6XR82Bk6n7xdMjGCmTyj6z4rWDIKWDjmxsPOSJ1g9ZXYBACA4oFbPJzA8pHsu4PCp0Et3_Bm_TTiAChvkFbVn1Ympwb3bKjGrO1pvjtRX5AufAc7mhVnJYHY/s1600/DSC05336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRLDfn6Fl377SIeDKtX0a6XR82Bk6n7xdMjGCmTyj6z4rWDIKWDjmxsPOSJ1g9ZXYBACA4oFbPJzA8pHsu4PCp0Et3_Bm_TTiAChvkFbVn1Ympwb3bKjGrO1pvjtRX5AufAc7mhVnJYHY/s200/DSC05336.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Sunday our destination was Luxembourg City. Except..... before we got to sightseeing we had to stop and buy hats and gloves (no easy feat on a Sunday, mind you). We now have hats and gloves as souvenirs from our trips to Cambridge, Heidelberg, Hamburg and Luxembourg. You would think after two years I would have figured out just how cold Northern Europe can be, any time of year. In my defense, that Sunday in Luxembourg City was barely the middle of October, and the first REALLY cold day of the year, so hats and gloves weren't quite on my radar yet.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQMj-kNm30JpM7sVN_zzgFSPQeRi3nYpcQ72f_tp8CzD9xHFashMygYIUI56oeaQYi-nDGIT8-EAENsIfFvfyjFavHFA54Rj_TBd9wqaDk4A99ZEDTbQrrEywjxA82RD0AaQSBShJcDA/s1600/DSC05343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQMj-kNm30JpM7sVN_zzgFSPQeRi3nYpcQ72f_tp8CzD9xHFashMygYIUI56oeaQYi-nDGIT8-EAENsIfFvfyjFavHFA54Rj_TBd9wqaDk4A99ZEDTbQrrEywjxA82RD0AaQSBShJcDA/s200/DSC05343.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
Once we appropriately bundled ourselves, we set off on the shorter of the two self guided walking tours available from the Visitor Center. Luxembourg is pretty hilly, with some steep climbs and C was walking that day, so between the cold and being paced by 5 year old legs, we figured shorter was better. The city has remarkably preserved casements and walls, some dating back as early as 1644, that today surround a lovely park. Walking the casements provides some really beautiful views of the city. There's a uniformed guard on duty at the city's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Ducal_Palace,_Luxembourg">Grand Ducal Palace</a> and that's always fun for the boys. Luxembourg City, unfortunately, is just the latest victim of my "metropolis fatigue". On a beautiful day it would be a fun place to explore, on a cold and windy one, I could take it or leave it. Rumor has it, though, that there's a Villeroy and Boch outlet near there, so perhaps Luxembourg City and I will meet again one day soon.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjAtgDipU4KwAwXVGRDdcsIsQAVVt9VlQAVH_z8N7p2xtj2DCrigGTKAki8uuT1o0BoZhfqv3xd5_NfllCC-NvahZoDqJyUXUX9o78kF7grAYNqc7kgTzliZuYjPLh5lARXrb0YsO6q2w/s1600/DSC05288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjAtgDipU4KwAwXVGRDdcsIsQAVVt9VlQAVH_z8N7p2xtj2DCrigGTKAki8uuT1o0BoZhfqv3xd5_NfllCC-NvahZoDqJyUXUX9o78kF7grAYNqc7kgTzliZuYjPLh5lARXrb0YsO6q2w/s320/DSC05288.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tromping</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFJTmfCdexry55pAoQKTQhC8u2Ag0qPqMnZ3iRr6_UrN5bdjsysfO-QzHYosa9tMCKiTgRE6gUAgmCT2zhzwC895RFk2VP48asYfUskfaqjd-6Wkj3Kxk_OUqvXCX4FT5cuk0-c-JEh8/s1600/DSC05281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFJTmfCdexry55pAoQKTQhC8u2Ag0qPqMnZ3iRr6_UrN5bdjsysfO-QzHYosa9tMCKiTgRE6gUAgmCT2zhzwC895RFk2VP48asYfUskfaqjd-6Wkj3Kxk_OUqvXCX4FT5cuk0-c-JEh8/s320/DSC05281.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tromping</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuaS33yVJTV6DqV0GEHT6B4r1WiwqM8T_GIPkvMLnJEfwOnp7sxkhDYfKAAHHs_uxCGSZ_QMnZxQgkwQ5dVVshc_Eo9jrSQCNhkdoAQPjlbMcC-QcH-l2CzQJossMHTfpM8wNhhLQxYJA/s1600/DSC05269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuaS33yVJTV6DqV0GEHT6B4r1WiwqM8T_GIPkvMLnJEfwOnp7sxkhDYfKAAHHs_uxCGSZ_QMnZxQgkwQ5dVVshc_Eo9jrSQCNhkdoAQPjlbMcC-QcH-l2CzQJossMHTfpM8wNhhLQxYJA/s320/DSC05269.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and more tromping</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPr0NNWTS6vQm8LPwMJJo8xUwUETk0dFsxp4QHzimgMLKf7D5k9crIROPpfhb_ZOkj084HjBhacHLVo4kONcGiQ-y4mrAh5j_GIQPy1TA0HI-bwD6mPxrJ5sOtKbpTNRh-0Sh3PJIg-k/s1600/DSC05318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPr0NNWTS6vQm8LPwMJJo8xUwUETk0dFsxp4QHzimgMLKf7D5k9crIROPpfhb_ZOkj084HjBhacHLVo4kONcGiQ-y4mrAh5j_GIQPy1TA0HI-bwD6mPxrJ5sOtKbpTNRh-0Sh3PJIg-k/s320/DSC05318.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">any castle that does this.... priceless!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-57626245880782161192011-03-30T12:12:00.003+02:002011-03-30T14:28:16.134+02:00the search for the perfect Venetian Spritz....You may have realized by now that when Grandma and GP come to visit, we think it's important for them to have as much time with the grandkids as they can, especially time without Mom and Dad under foot. The Grands last visit was this past October, and D and I, to better facilitate cross-generational bonding, took one for team and cleared out for a few days. We headed to Venice.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OZJYoQrWtTZiPBDZj5PARVUAyXNdCwLcWRVSIVt4wRV36vM_iD-Ylyg9NVRcugADxVX4vPc8zjszLV_rx4AsfJXEfmN3ZopFA9tCqhQgwDA8EXYlBGJk288LliZYvdf9wp3YGkRudi0/s1600/078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OZJYoQrWtTZiPBDZj5PARVUAyXNdCwLcWRVSIVt4wRV36vM_iD-Ylyg9NVRcugADxVX4vPc8zjszLV_rx4AsfJXEfmN3ZopFA9tCqhQgwDA8EXYlBGJk288LliZYvdf9wp3YGkRudi0/s400/078.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the famous Rialto Bridge</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssTlFyT0EnD7feEZDMB3aGIHczRMnmvRRb6fm-Er5z4MRKw6W3fsA2U9elzGg_7CKS4Wmu8O-k1d4mwTIF8rdWv__lWmZr7neAQjS99QcVVEvB1NvHW1yDvHb1qtjwvXPefpkcPeAkjU/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssTlFyT0EnD7feEZDMB3aGIHczRMnmvRRb6fm-Er5z4MRKw6W3fsA2U9elzGg_7CKS4Wmu8O-k1d4mwTIF8rdWv__lWmZr7neAQjS99QcVVEvB1NvHW1yDvHb1qtjwvXPefpkcPeAkjU/s200/026.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssTlFyT0EnD7feEZDMB3aGIHczRMnmvRRb6fm-Er5z4MRKw6W3fsA2U9elzGg_7CKS4Wmu8O-k1d4mwTIF8rdWv__lWmZr7neAQjS99QcVVEvB1NvHW1yDvHb1qtjwvXPefpkcPeAkjU/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the Academia bridge on the Grand Canal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We tremendously enjoyed Venice and learned a lot about its history and the important role it once played in global politics and trade. (Well, global from the 13th century perspective). The city is as gorgeous, stunning, and picturesque as you've heard, but in a movie-set, don't look too closely or you'll see the man behind the curtain, kind of way. Because the city is actually a small island, it's far more self-contained than other popular European travel destinations. It doesn't have a historic district-- the entire island is historic, and it's hard to shake the feeling that your hotel room reservation is the admission ticket to a living breathing theme park. I don't even feel like I can now say we've been to Italy. We've been to Venice, and as fabulous as it was, it feels a bit like a larger scale exhibit in Epcot's Global Showcase. <br />
<br />
The water is steadily closing-in on Venice and the city is all too quickly sinking into the sea. Case in point: When the tides are right, St. Marks's square is under water. Street vendors blocks and blocks away sell colorful plastic bags with shoe clips to keep your footwear dry and the city places catwalks all over the square to elevate tourists above the water. The catwalks are placed end to end and are about 4 feet wide, so you get in line, and shuffle along across the square. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2kvSY2X44708c54LNql_j8jBbyk_6P5ZfkiSoCXRtIKFcbogG_xJ06EtyqKEvlsxQWZDGK8qxKnIusSeK0Z-0Zn7XCuRBKlmWGLOhMkzIIYiBrff2BQmy493wu2NuN0WLV1fI-k-H7Y/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2kvSY2X44708c54LNql_j8jBbyk_6P5ZfkiSoCXRtIKFcbogG_xJ06EtyqKEvlsxQWZDGK8qxKnIusSeK0Z-0Zn7XCuRBKlmWGLOhMkzIIYiBrff2BQmy493wu2NuN0WLV1fI-k-H7Y/s200/040.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNm1E7T5Li-3MGQ_D0HiFTMoB58h-6IC-EyxP4Fou4pw1hDPnMV6daE_cRIUtcbHKaiix5YYWYKEWWzmbeunc-LL6mQ0rMpCHLiCV2SDq1YAe4i818x9gHRpqsHcv79gZgrhltPOypU4/s1600/047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNm1E7T5Li-3MGQ_D0HiFTMoB58h-6IC-EyxP4Fou4pw1hDPnMV6daE_cRIUtcbHKaiix5YYWYKEWWzmbeunc-LL6mQ0rMpCHLiCV2SDq1YAe4i818x9gHRpqsHcv79gZgrhltPOypU4/s200/047.JPG" width="200" /></a> I'm glad we went without the kids. It's not that Venice isn't kid friendly, more that it isn't stroller friendly -- at all. There's no way you could navigate a stroller along the catwalks in the flooded sections of the city, but even worse, EVERY street in Venice is a canal side street, and EVERY street has small bridges crossing those canals. Unlike Amsterdam, where the bridges over the canals are smooth ramps, the bridges in Venice are composed entirely of steps. I can't imagine bumping the stroller up and down all those steps all day every day.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR5lvCyl4KQfSjdcPE8SCMiYQiJrJzdGZEzLZJ568RjN3L6jVT4Nj62Y4sWqmmcDv7x3LjHXHbJ4VVR_h2LSFuMpUiTCjg2pA46DYiukuO6_1Otx5nc8ULjlutgtHd62xADjNDUWltqA/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR5lvCyl4KQfSjdcPE8SCMiYQiJrJzdGZEzLZJ568RjN3L6jVT4Nj62Y4sWqmmcDv7x3LjHXHbJ4VVR_h2LSFuMpUiTCjg2pA46DYiukuO6_1Otx5nc8ULjlutgtHd62xADjNDUWltqA/s200/021.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A St.Mark's Orchestra</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We did all of the touristy things you're supposed to do and see while in Venice. We toured the St. Mark's Cathedral (which btw is far more Byzantine than anything else we've seen in Europe) and sipped coffee listening to the orchestras in St. Mark's square. I made D twirl me around a time or two just so I could say I've "waltzed" there. We ducked into several other <a href="http://www.sacred-destinations.com/italy/venice-santa-maria-gloriosa-dei-frari">smaller churches</a>, walked the <a href="http://www.venice-sights.co.uk/doges-palace.htm">Doge's Palace</a>, crossed the Bridge of Sighs into the Prison, shopped on the Rialto bridge, and snapped pictures at the crazy, smelly fish market. At close to 100 Euro, we did NOT go for the Gondola ride but instead opted for the minute long, 50 cent <a href="http://europeforvisitors.com/venice/articles/traghetto.htm">traghetto</a> ride across the Grand Canal [Really there are only so many bridges over the canal, so in between the bridges are strategically placed traghetto stops. Traghetto's are small gondola's with striped-shirt wearing pilots, just no serenading.] We discovered while in Venice that Rick Steves' website has free downloadable audio guides, so we downloaded those and listened to him guide us through Venice. We bought unlimited three day passes for the Vaporettos (public boat buses) and circled the grand canal several times, listening to Steves point out the interesting sights along the way. <br />
<br />
We slept at a Steves' recommended spot, catching our zzzzzzs at the <a href="http://www.donorione-venezia.it/ing/chi_siamo/storia.htm">Don Orione Cultural Center</a> . The hotel is a converted Monastery and prides itself on it's peaceful and relaxed atmosphere. The rooms are minimalist, but spacious, and the breakfast is generic but adequate. The daily rate at Don Orione is about 1/3 of the other hotels on the same square and the location (half way between St Mark's Square and The Rialto Bridge) is excellent, and despite the fact that the building has been modernized you can still catch glimpses of the old architecture and facade and imagine what it would have been like 100 years ago.<br />
<br />
We spent two days exploring Venice proper and while we bought a map (the buildings in Venice are sooooo close together the GPS could never get a lock), we only used it to get from the bus station to our hotel. The greatest fun in Venice is wandering and watching. As long as you can keep yourself minimally oriented to the location of the Grand Canal, there's really no way to get lost. The greatest challenge in Venice is spotting a local, well that and navigating through the throngs of cruise boat tour groups. In the end, I think we were more successful than most in at least rubbing elbows with the locals. How we did it: We walked from St Mark's square to the St. Elena neighborhood at the southern tip of the main island, (about 25 minutes) leaving the tourists behind with every step. I presume that most of the residents of St Elena support the tourist industry in some way; they live simply, in small apartments, with tiny windowsill gardens and laundry lines strung between windows over the narrow alleyways. We grabbed a slice in a local pizzeria, probably the only pizzeria in all of Venice where the proprietor spoke no English (pointy-talky strikes again) and ended up sitting next to a table of local college girls meeting for an afternoon cuppa, watching the local college boys play a pick-up game of street soccer. After lunch we walked back to the St Mark's madness and stood in line to tour the square's namesake church.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUWCkL0hYZVN3IyjkFzcVFAG58DGV2ZORLe36Ii9o6D-9ztr14k75Dl1WcyqqV2S9S5IB5PRrm2lQlStN0aSbSczlzBdTB68Xwa6bXpcjJrocYswD2zDCYXH7HMVtu5mFQUh6EETTIcs/s1600/056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUWCkL0hYZVN3IyjkFzcVFAG58DGV2ZORLe36Ii9o6D-9ztr14k75Dl1WcyqqV2S9S5IB5PRrm2lQlStN0aSbSczlzBdTB68Xwa6bXpcjJrocYswD2zDCYXH7HMVtu5mFQUh6EETTIcs/s320/056.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">street soccer</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexx6HgYRP1TVxTiefXykqP7Q3P82snm7VlVXxVTwA99is1c3Bh-Sg5eh6PI2lExOessYKMjrNIC9aCz4XGAFMB3UoxLkvdM2unpJZGHsfRvTiMadeaKbiOCNXoQH5aCoeBcP5TgTMJUU/s1600/091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexx6HgYRP1TVxTiefXykqP7Q3P82snm7VlVXxVTwA99is1c3Bh-Sg5eh6PI2lExOessYKMjrNIC9aCz4XGAFMB3UoxLkvdM2unpJZGHsfRvTiMadeaKbiOCNXoQH5aCoeBcP5TgTMJUU/s200/091.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just how narrow were they?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdBQ9BilfCdN7-c-h0GiLcwG1RnFujrqxJiXdRBgXE7HRyYaHKkxfiggRcGbeJ8CTcSm1DKVHi2Zh6TFR1XifFf536acIg21THCj__5Jpwf9jx2PXyokHKykWvLcoYplaf11VK00TF2A/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdBQ9BilfCdN7-c-h0GiLcwG1RnFujrqxJiXdRBgXE7HRyYaHKkxfiggRcGbeJ8CTcSm1DKVHi2Zh6TFR1XifFf536acIg21THCj__5Jpwf9jx2PXyokHKykWvLcoYplaf11VK00TF2A/s320/052.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cat at home in St. Elena</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nOyAlLd8hRE-WRVjGnUbLVfFXa3o-SXZp5YkrPFzHpyOz3bgQh_Eg5TWYUmyKzmrc9DTniyUDR8v-s-FMv-koOvhR9ADUnK9Q4lvZoyS_7wchJdx6a_juOxQ7CQEiAUOMg4mRLFNPlQ/s1600/050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nOyAlLd8hRE-WRVjGnUbLVfFXa3o-SXZp5YkrPFzHpyOz3bgQh_Eg5TWYUmyKzmrc9DTniyUDR8v-s-FMv-koOvhR9ADUnK9Q4lvZoyS_7wchJdx6a_juOxQ7CQEiAUOMg4mRLFNPlQ/s320/050.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water spickets like this one are all over the city. The water is perfectly safe to drink; it comes down an aquefor from the Alps. Notice the catwalks stacked on the side ready for the tides to come in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwc9KwXOUpvfUfDNd3LEVDB_LznwB-lRFbukpxa5HFnxPBLOYoHe7tlh-Z3GfqoJqJIoNdg9DzWt0mcNlpPbtfeeO4RwY-nNJ_I8iO2n77a20iIelHfvP4oFpeu9e3kkTHvgiRO-pXE5E/s1600/045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwc9KwXOUpvfUfDNd3LEVDB_LznwB-lRFbukpxa5HFnxPBLOYoHe7tlh-Z3GfqoJqJIoNdg9DzWt0mcNlpPbtfeeO4RwY-nNJ_I8iO2n77a20iIelHfvP4oFpeu9e3kkTHvgiRO-pXE5E/s200/045.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view of St Mark's clock tower </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<a href="http://www.italyguides.it/us/venice_italy/st_mark_s_square/piazza_san_marco/st_mark_s_basilica.htm">The church </a> turned out to be my favorite of the historical sights. It's an Eastern Orthodox church full of icons and imagery that would seem fundamentally out of place in the famous Italian Renaissance churches and palaces in Florence and Rome. Every alcove in the church houses a separate exhibit with separate admission prices, some worth it, some not. My advice would be to skip the treasury and the golden altarpiece (on the main floor), but definitely go upstairs to the San Marco Museum and the famous Bronze Horses. After you've wandered the museum, be sure to go outside onto the roof for up close pictures of the massive replica horses and stunning views of the square, the canal, and the clock tower. Grab a piece of ledge and sit a spell, watching the square bustle beneath your feet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjReHLweAJ8zsCAgYTZJjTpKZtuvrcwnThZx9Evx12Oh-Vmih8gXbFSJUHhNYQHBenDZXNz_OYN30iQ0DFgc4wKArgTGXoswP-a-CZO864NiJrV4A_TJFV-7ZnfZPyx1hwflEawFYRDRLc/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjReHLweAJ8zsCAgYTZJjTpKZtuvrcwnThZx9Evx12Oh-Vmih8gXbFSJUHhNYQHBenDZXNz_OYN30iQ0DFgc4wKArgTGXoswP-a-CZO864NiJrV4A_TJFV-7ZnfZPyx1hwflEawFYRDRLc/s320/040.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1TPyPa-nyjndBgPzys9W3Tw-qY8J_0rFzzNWuo189m28QtqDuYdJejM05ZD3zFXmAQeRVAzA9_6lZ7yNhPlHNhu9vUeMUcIvAzO8_x7w48GzGgg59RQkTH9vsF1GxlP4DEDX2R6Hz4s/s1600/100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1TPyPa-nyjndBgPzys9W3Tw-qY8J_0rFzzNWuo189m28QtqDuYdJejM05ZD3zFXmAQeRVAzA9_6lZ7yNhPlHNhu9vUeMUcIvAzO8_x7w48GzGgg59RQkTH9vsF1GxlP4DEDX2R6Hz4s/s320/100.JPG" width="240" /></a>Back to the sport of spotting local Venetians....<br />
Another place to spot locals is at the fish market; they're the ones carrying large baskets and actually buying the fish rather than simply snapping pictures of it.<br />
<br />
Our other brush with Venetian residents was at the local bars as we strolled from small square to small square in search of the perfect <a href="http://www.aperolspritz.it/">Aperol Spritz</a> (prosecco, aperol, maybe a little sparkling water, and an orange slice). The price of your spritz doubles if you want to sit on the square at a table and drink it with the other tourists. So again, taking advantage of the fact we left the munchkins home with the Grands, we stood at the outside bars and drank. The barkeeps all gamely tried to seat us at a table and offer us "the best touriste menu in all of Venice", but we finished our drink, looped the square and then picked a side street roughly in the direction of our hotel. Followed the side street until it opened up onto another small square with another small bar and started the process all over again. Don't worry we paced ourselves, kept a close watch on our belongings, and made it back to the hotel early enough to get a good night's sleep for our next day island hopping.<br />
<br />
Touring the local islands was my favorite Venetian day. The city is stunning, but in good weather the boat ride out to the islands is lovely water watching and the islands themselves, quaint and picturesque. It's about a 100 minute ride back to St. Mark's square from the furthest island, so it really is an all day trip (and that's if you don't spend oodles of time at each island). Be sure to note the boat schedules and make your connections or you'll be stuck far longer than you want to be on Toricello, leaving you no choice but to cut Murano or Burano short.<br />
<br />
We left from the Fondamenta Nuove stop (on the lagoon side of the main island) and stopped first at Cimiterio San Michele. The island is an old cemetary. Ezra Pound and Igor Stravinski are buried here as are lots and lots of American and Brits. I took pictures of some of the 18th and 19th century English tombstones, thinking I could later do some research to determine how and why these "ordinary" people found themselves in Venice at their deaths. Some were obviously soldiers, but I'm curious about the others. Next Stop: Murano.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ssn1QKV4IfS5vUFK1FtiooUYeR7YeZIvqSW4Rsv1LQogNRZyOQaXzCRb0CeIfIB23BVS7Ra42-vPSo7xzRPGi04hUOFC_WpHUtz8_BXcpiAGlngXYZgih5kpQ0VGQqqdwJ2KYeCaJk0/s1600/057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ssn1QKV4IfS5vUFK1FtiooUYeR7YeZIvqSW4Rsv1LQogNRZyOQaXzCRb0CeIfIB23BVS7Ra42-vPSo7xzRPGi04hUOFC_WpHUtz8_BXcpiAGlngXYZgih5kpQ0VGQqqdwJ2KYeCaJk0/s320/057.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">main street in Murano</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Murano is the glass island: glass factory after glass factory, glass shop after glass shop. I wanted a few pieces of Murano glass jewelry for myself and for gifts, and eventually just had to pick a store and figure I'd do all my buying there. Otherwise, you'd drive yourself crazy looking for the perfect piece or two. We watched a short glass blowing demonstration and then toured the glass museum before grabbing another boat to Burano, transfer point for Toricello.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://europeforvisitors.com/venice/articles/venice-islands-tour-torcello.htm">Toricello </a> is as isolated as it gets, sandy scrub covered, very much like any coastal Florida State Park. There's a cafe or two for the tourists, but the only thing to really see there is the Santa Maria church, which claims to be the oldest church in Venice.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2USVxCbtF2HCVqmx30XMsTwYjIpzXa8_ZdrudVayOP9TabZnPY5lkuueshQhFfY1SOk9BrT5ilZ7UdxYHr8ngIWQD9sDT5fTaNXOVGJpVvsl5gS_8Fvc055J5_itZw80ASdYZhH3PrzY/s1600/090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2USVxCbtF2HCVqmx30XMsTwYjIpzXa8_ZdrudVayOP9TabZnPY5lkuueshQhFfY1SOk9BrT5ilZ7UdxYHr8ngIWQD9sDT5fTaNXOVGJpVvsl5gS_8Fvc055J5_itZw80ASdYZhH3PrzY/s320/090.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">colorful Burano</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Back to Burano: What glass is to Murano, lace is to Burano. We didn't buy any (I'm just not a lacy gal), but walking Burano is fun. It's smaller than Murano with lots of colorful buildings side by side and when you ignore the lace shops it has a very old Key West, fishing village mystique to it.<br />
<br />
Venice, everyone should go. It's completely touristy, but it's Old Europe too. If getting there isn't on your radar, grab a copy of the recent Angelie Jolie/ Johnny Depp blockbuster, <i>The Tourist </i>. Watch it once for the fun movie a; watch it again for the scenery -- you'll get a great view of the grand canal and other famous Venetian sights.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-62344524915026224512011-01-16T19:05:00.002+01:002011-01-16T19:11:34.676+01:00Local Historythis one isn't so much a local treasure as it is a little piece of unsung local history.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18yKM7Y-ASA95GkPhkp_St9RkCXftgrF8Jbx9hAStiIzI4VuNjMJ3VGZgWhLV3edmO3MVEWh2pWzpwLtxlCcdpm46BDiRRL14Cng-M-oFxYIuObG1SDmhEMK5xs-bkiuMOEYoaB2WhR0/s1600/IMG_0231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18yKM7Y-ASA95GkPhkp_St9RkCXftgrF8Jbx9hAStiIzI4VuNjMJ3VGZgWhLV3edmO3MVEWh2pWzpwLtxlCcdpm46BDiRRL14Cng-M-oFxYIuObG1SDmhEMK5xs-bkiuMOEYoaB2WhR0/s320/IMG_0231.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>With only a few short morning hours to myself each day, hours which are inevitably spent shopping or errand running or at the gym or grabbing a quick cuppa with a friend, it's hard to have any real hobbies to speak of. I do a bit of reading and a bit of blogging (a very little bit of blogging of late) but both of those are difficult with the numerous interruptions a 5 and 2 year old bring to the table, curious and inquisitive little boys who it always seems are bustin' at the seams to, in their words, "tell me something". However, between fixing lunch, refereeing light saber battles, designing lego masterpieces, and pancaking play doh I can putz around online. Yep, pretty pathetic that googling is my hobby, but it is, and I often find myself googling "local German village + World War Two" just to see what pops up. This week a search for "Gangelt and World War Two" yielded <a href="http://www.amherstbulletin.com/story/id/186209/">this link</a> .<br />
<br />
Click through and you'll find the story of Walter Leopold. Leopold, a Jewish survivor of WW2, was born in a Dutch town not too far from here. When he was a baby he and his family went into hiding. They survived the war and moved to the states in 1954. In 2009 Leopold returned to the Holland to try to discover more about his family's past, specifically his German father. His search led him to Gangelt, his father's birthplace. His time exploring Gangelt eventually led him to a forgotten and desecrated Jewish cemetery on the outskirts of town. As things go, he arranged to have the cemetery's gates shipped to him in Massachusetts, to grace a Jewish cemetery in Amherst. (The details of his story are interesting, so do click through and read his account and see a pic of the gates).<br />
<br />
Enter: Google<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2S4JQIxPEgvCBowIt36I54-I-g1LlTTwvazA6mnxj66FMXlJJrhIJt-zxt6z1uEnssSU2tyT4j0yoPE2MRQJ5UF4op9BCieldDThTNxCCB1O1OhROeU-oEw5kcMApgZb_CXz5V1fpBNY/s1600/IMG_0233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2S4JQIxPEgvCBowIt36I54-I-g1LlTTwvazA6mnxj66FMXlJJrhIJt-zxt6z1uEnssSU2tyT4j0yoPE2MRQJ5UF4op9BCieldDThTNxCCB1O1OhROeU-oEw5kcMApgZb_CXz5V1fpBNY/s200/IMG_0233.JPG" width="200" /></a>Not too many years ago, had I happened across Leopold's article in the <i>Amherst Bulletin</i>, short of ferreting out if there was some sort of Gangelt historical society or driving around town looking for said cemetery, that'd been that. Now-a-days, however, a quick search and a click of the translate button later and we discovered the Jüdischer Friedhof (Jewish Cemetery) was in use from 1877-1937 and is located on AmWirtsberg, off the B56. Today was an unseasonably warm and sunny Sunday, so another click over to google maps to find the precise location of Am Wirtsberg, and we grabbed the bikes and hit the farm roads to go see for ourselves. (For any locals out there Am Wirtsberg is off the B56 right at the edge of Gangelt as you head towards Stahe. The cemetery itself is across the street from the smokestack, up a narrow gravel path. And yep, you could drive past it everyday and not notice it unless you specifically went looking for it). <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrGf7Fg4y6stLxY_UdaM0i1X4VZFSJKdKt2PY2hV2C4w7z2okXx4neeppfZe7kWPlHGQjixFqVcdxaw_xVyxuOImqn5UnrTeHu6gUNw4pzsAQ3RTmOeqOOEyNN4AUN36ULvpAUwzLcvo/s1600/IMG_0238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrGf7Fg4y6stLxY_UdaM0i1X4VZFSJKdKt2PY2hV2C4w7z2okXx4neeppfZe7kWPlHGQjixFqVcdxaw_xVyxuOImqn5UnrTeHu6gUNw4pzsAQ3RTmOeqOOEyNN4AUN36ULvpAUwzLcvo/s200/IMG_0238.JPG" width="200" /></a>When Leopold discovered the cemetery in such horrible condition, a group of locals set about cleaning it up, so today it looks respectable. My kiddos had a hard time understanding why they couldn't climb on the cool looking rocks; they did much better sitting outside with a snack. Many of the headstones are too worn to read and most of the headstones are in Hebrew. We did puzzle for a few minutes over the one woman who was born in 1852 and appeared to die in 1997, until we looked closer and figured out the 9 was a 2. 1927 fit better with what we already read about the cemetery anyway.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTNRzsW1VdiVgOhaamYHWzdoVo7x8t289wh4hpPmLSoggZAb42eSC6Hqe5lvYRzICcZHJ2YTGwPc4JXX66FabqQzIsNIaprAjYT2CFKaJgqnQeGRl1tLNVuxB3ZGFHjBavUVLlXMmy08/s1600/IMG_0236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTNRzsW1VdiVgOhaamYHWzdoVo7x8t289wh4hpPmLSoggZAb42eSC6Hqe5lvYRzICcZHJ2YTGwPc4JXX66FabqQzIsNIaprAjYT2CFKaJgqnQeGRl1tLNVuxB3ZGFHjBavUVLlXMmy08/s320/IMG_0236.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXSv5Oy7itjoUAxM8Th9NIypVM1T3H4-JYnNn-rrAXqy764JUhorCBcenvsvAYY3pWSudiqhMwjtdmGFJKEq-SJ7i2zRWf9RWz-nlUM7F3RPHd3BF1baKV1JSyVUSE1PfN_qompsosn_0/s1600/IMG_0251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXSv5Oy7itjoUAxM8Th9NIypVM1T3H4-JYnNn-rrAXqy764JUhorCBcenvsvAYY3pWSudiqhMwjtdmGFJKEq-SJ7i2zRWf9RWz-nlUM7F3RPHd3BF1baKV1JSyVUSE1PfN_qompsosn_0/s320/IMG_0251.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09e0F3WbBBuFS9W_kacLbm1mHA26Va5yUZSmI6-DNz8pSkFDnOQWTjg1PdSuZgjvbWf6v48b_rcfMy0PcrXx_xt3Re1vvn1F9BzxzErNMjJOWfapM5pBnboSFwCypgqzxq1uglHkacys/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09e0F3WbBBuFS9W_kacLbm1mHA26Va5yUZSmI6-DNz8pSkFDnOQWTjg1PdSuZgjvbWf6v48b_rcfMy0PcrXx_xt3Re1vvn1F9BzxzErNMjJOWfapM5pBnboSFwCypgqzxq1uglHkacys/s320/IMG_0232.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-41304685746595064402010-12-09T20:41:00.002+01:002010-12-11T16:30:39.956+01:00to the beach house!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-_C9DfeLbkVUdMgD_DY8K2wN97-KKqcW-zcwn3-Hj4uv-XugXxlnO33jpwmfJ9KWpsTqvF_pyGECv3FvInhvJ44HFnFq9ITdxlQCw-IyTkR1ZMOk0Df_prgUYUkjYss6GsfqXfxW42VE/s1600/IMG_0344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvO7pv0FE1o2XJwcS8I_N-uNt1yeysCD_9PE6EXkUIxlohQ5fVCWtCXgUva70yJIZyi6FAokdrcQHJyHUWYh_u18INxzkNqiMYCXUjDzRhyphenhyphenRyKeFEf89359NQOr9_pinHoHM47H3ZXo4/s1600/IMG_0378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvO7pv0FE1o2XJwcS8I_N-uNt1yeysCD_9PE6EXkUIxlohQ5fVCWtCXgUva70yJIZyi6FAokdrcQHJyHUWYh_u18INxzkNqiMYCXUjDzRhyphenhyphenRyKeFEf89359NQOr9_pinHoHM47H3ZXo4/s320/IMG_0378.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Getting that Vitamin D the old-fashioned way. (Don't miss that German snow-- not one little bit) <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbffEf6cMEng9WOYGr3NuA3pwuz_f13VIzyZdv-1AUb87bsOvrjNor_I4hNlsoDym4nyStBRk5BemYwarkuqRqQ_MFlLVJWKNJagEoxnSwLMEuuWL9kA5eInjH_1YpaOoGNSbXcOuc98Q/s1600/IMG_0381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbffEf6cMEng9WOYGr3NuA3pwuz_f13VIzyZdv-1AUb87bsOvrjNor_I4hNlsoDym4nyStBRk5BemYwarkuqRqQ_MFlLVJWKNJagEoxnSwLMEuuWL9kA5eInjH_1YpaOoGNSbXcOuc98Q/s200/IMG_0381.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRggqe2xdoFFnZ5UAtPVI1sHroJIV9Vnv-I63T-SFCJWwhAjxa8Non8NQjVMw20MbykwmuazpQEnLmrFXqYmRtiflyIadgJWWOQRDQGP5bacwW2-n0Kt37WSZne5awS3lZROuGcAVEwo/s1600/IMG_0453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRggqe2xdoFFnZ5UAtPVI1sHroJIV9Vnv-I63T-SFCJWwhAjxa8Non8NQjVMw20MbykwmuazpQEnLmrFXqYmRtiflyIadgJWWOQRDQGP5bacwW2-n0Kt37WSZne5awS3lZROuGcAVEwo/s200/IMG_0453.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnP7-1gRNK07MPp2SmSXd-mBZ1KogSWKodYYXv4K9y-CwFbfyD4MdxcMfTmV-1Ec-FVxHyov4Hu7Ix0XenvoSN6pXvPGiaGR8LTTpnaXK4otzOHRthDAx8v5WnYbovSk54yXUj44X-S2E/s1600/IMG_0422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFL16xIlK-kcUdLtITZe6ZTEG_ZtfiX9p3IX01MVW2lG_ZOm4A-w6I12IIkzYDxuyCSgrqwKTQ-48gm1BxcfpMKoqV8SmcRe9spy1W_u8mgy6_68EQKjvcbbOTzPhjmfH9Z_bV1FXZ50/s1600/IMG_0410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFL16xIlK-kcUdLtITZe6ZTEG_ZtfiX9p3IX01MVW2lG_ZOm4A-w6I12IIkzYDxuyCSgrqwKTQ-48gm1BxcfpMKoqV8SmcRe9spy1W_u8mgy6_68EQKjvcbbOTzPhjmfH9Z_bV1FXZ50/s400/IMG_0410.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqt888qp18jbfeNg0gtgdka1lvAb_lKISVqzUZGyiGroWTxtEopZWp3-CObd9MDhL7rrQCh7UhcwmJ7hHkLAbfNFLTAxFOH-wa75PLtrpst9PzBqqiXxiN9rFpGZkXogT-4iltMrUlJXA/s1600/IMG_0390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqt888qp18jbfeNg0gtgdka1lvAb_lKISVqzUZGyiGroWTxtEopZWp3-CObd9MDhL7rrQCh7UhcwmJ7hHkLAbfNFLTAxFOH-wa75PLtrpst9PzBqqiXxiN9rFpGZkXogT-4iltMrUlJXA/s200/IMG_0390.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJ7rBdJY7aG1SZ9R-M6-D_aCsviP90iQQKMWMO-pakGBY7lNLvTLMuvc2fPJ8rWgiag09xP5FrlEqyAl3PzxZcvnc2c2dfpOVKj0yxpghYM_YTHMlzzZA0KHiu_35VjUf4HuZUc7vauc/s1600/IMG_0412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJ7rBdJY7aG1SZ9R-M6-D_aCsviP90iQQKMWMO-pakGBY7lNLvTLMuvc2fPJ8rWgiag09xP5FrlEqyAl3PzxZcvnc2c2dfpOVKj0yxpghYM_YTHMlzzZA0KHiu_35VjUf4HuZUc7vauc/s200/IMG_0412.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIZFwsa9wG8fISmGSz0gAMypQDsnjBnUBGGj3wCsNAF5Bijyd1o3jvSQ0XfjrtWOk-cSul5KtTT7574uweggFUGdniCWVvKGjYmyUWhwVOxY0BchzkygHrs_-1VI9v_CCTeAX2E3xZmg/s1600/IMG_0416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIZFwsa9wG8fISmGSz0gAMypQDsnjBnUBGGj3wCsNAF5Bijyd1o3jvSQ0XfjrtWOk-cSul5KtTT7574uweggFUGdniCWVvKGjYmyUWhwVOxY0BchzkygHrs_-1VI9v_CCTeAX2E3xZmg/s200/IMG_0416.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj374kxbxEMNrt1GAnIK0yzo3fkdOJH-hfpPhVNNBtX6XTzZDDtLFvOkFFeSRNOWFjV88h4I-JpaiSZ6-azOacuvYP98nNsNJymNDHcgQ5rTydPybAmr3hGCKxUyxdLBFD2DVy6EgSIFPk/s1600/IMG_0404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj374kxbxEMNrt1GAnIK0yzo3fkdOJH-hfpPhVNNBtX6XTzZDDtLFvOkFFeSRNOWFjV88h4I-JpaiSZ6-azOacuvYP98nNsNJymNDHcgQ5rTydPybAmr3hGCKxUyxdLBFD2DVy6EgSIFPk/s400/IMG_0404.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-_C9DfeLbkVUdMgD_DY8K2wN97-KKqcW-zcwn3-Hj4uv-XugXxlnO33jpwmfJ9KWpsTqvF_pyGECv3FvInhvJ44HFnFq9ITdxlQCw-IyTkR1ZMOk0Df_prgUYUkjYss6GsfqXfxW42VE/s1600/IMG_0344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-_C9DfeLbkVUdMgD_DY8K2wN97-KKqcW-zcwn3-Hj4uv-XugXxlnO33jpwmfJ9KWpsTqvF_pyGECv3FvInhvJ44HFnFq9ITdxlQCw-IyTkR1ZMOk0Df_prgUYUkjYss6GsfqXfxW42VE/s400/IMG_0344.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>C keeps telling me over and over, "Mom, we're lucky boys" And they are too, not only to have grandparents who want to have us stay for weeks at a time, who are willing to romp and frolic and play, but that we get to call the South Florida sun home. We've seen Gulf Coast beaches, North Atlantic Beaches (on both sides of the Atlantic) North Sea Beaches, Mediterranean Beaches and Iberian Peninsula beaches and although those Portuguese dunes were fabulous, and the St. Tropez sand exotic, there really is no place like home.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-475421366938579992010-11-25T10:32:00.000+01:002010-11-25T10:32:00.898+01:00fun in the sun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqiOw5eTSNT2AqD0SFnbqB5FEa1ivlZ7mTQSPKFgyUscLAzXXJQuMq1i2BBojrwv69JcbIk2kFMPKEwiC0gyMeTuotnYOTtm4CBlhyphenhyphency4zAEZyqg-AlnwHheHEjaL9kUkLdyr9ZYv6Is/s1600/IMG_0162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqiOw5eTSNT2AqD0SFnbqB5FEa1ivlZ7mTQSPKFgyUscLAzXXJQuMq1i2BBojrwv69JcbIk2kFMPKEwiC0gyMeTuotnYOTtm4CBlhyphenhyphency4zAEZyqg-AlnwHheHEjaL9kUkLdyr9ZYv6Is/s200/IMG_0162.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj41lFz5CNCdP7rDtvODLVG_K35oPxJI99FYVNFGcq0_XrU3q_DkLOf3cy-tjP870py-nbm9LCyrIYI-hyVW0wGV9pJxRQsYlFLIUAichMUPQrh1ki1SCFZMnu9QE3SZxaH3x7cekF4Cj0/s1600/IMG_0197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj41lFz5CNCdP7rDtvODLVG_K35oPxJI99FYVNFGcq0_XrU3q_DkLOf3cy-tjP870py-nbm9LCyrIYI-hyVW0wGV9pJxRQsYlFLIUAichMUPQrh1ki1SCFZMnu9QE3SZxaH3x7cekF4Cj0/s200/IMG_0197.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
fun in the sun -- and we haven't even made it to the beach yet!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-UTlGmFLojG_GSsGXNAY7N4WZodPyVmvSw2KVNWy0ljc3J5qFN4XWrn1XbBF8lvF9kkiVdtjtDEEIpYQZeLyiPKxQ6Zmh7o26WrGnIhO2KSdSkCWXdXKQhmXYV5bealakNvgP4zjwTc/s1600/IMG_0273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-UTlGmFLojG_GSsGXNAY7N4WZodPyVmvSw2KVNWy0ljc3J5qFN4XWrn1XbBF8lvF9kkiVdtjtDEEIpYQZeLyiPKxQ6Zmh7o26WrGnIhO2KSdSkCWXdXKQhmXYV5bealakNvgP4zjwTc/s200/IMG_0273.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqj7NazfVnl1xU2ljD7zjI7COadLKtE_BnEjnfXJaa77UQTfKhKJnfcRK5KXxesxsbbkJkhHKk3KBcM5_8b672OHeVzAQwzeJZQPMwraguiOv10u0mjThwKtEIM8fb70ghsouQs2cr_s/s1600/IMG_0202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqj7NazfVnl1xU2ljD7zjI7COadLKtE_BnEjnfXJaa77UQTfKhKJnfcRK5KXxesxsbbkJkhHKk3KBcM5_8b672OHeVzAQwzeJZQPMwraguiOv10u0mjThwKtEIM8fb70ghsouQs2cr_s/s200/IMG_0202.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlr7exSa_yYB-tqN5hQOgqcYeSPr9TRvJvdzymqkjEcf7_QZZ6iJquzUZhpQoC3EPJgxPSPQ9FFqYQV6Esa1lJFac8UrXzXJQHtALPpzoSjZT5V-fLcOLh8TZIzQkv_AmYsZJFfgBaNk/s1600/IMG_0245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlr7exSa_yYB-tqN5hQOgqcYeSPr9TRvJvdzymqkjEcf7_QZZ6iJquzUZhpQoC3EPJgxPSPQ9FFqYQV6Esa1lJFac8UrXzXJQHtALPpzoSjZT5V-fLcOLh8TZIzQkv_AmYsZJFfgBaNk/s200/IMG_0245.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrh-kCUj96m4p7riE8P2vIdP21lD15RYQtftJzmKpy42XpGxe9cqymf7ayH1jNiHQ0z9Mddd_W0U88XyZOTLNsXHuAz7ebPGwpvDEUelZFltknuvXDiltJIjmLfcZjchgLZD7JFbx7a7s/s1600/IMG_0248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrh-kCUj96m4p7riE8P2vIdP21lD15RYQtftJzmKpy42XpGxe9cqymf7ayH1jNiHQ0z9Mddd_W0U88XyZOTLNsXHuAz7ebPGwpvDEUelZFltknuvXDiltJIjmLfcZjchgLZD7JFbx7a7s/s200/IMG_0248.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpWGCBdTRaM3uqGRhtIptAbhDdGAzHG7WuF4TdBxEew1msspYVyaCp2RifKH-_VDfYX1u-G2g_eRn4n3Jls_-yjNl9OBWxcNEsVn2MYhBBx0l-vAqsNkjACwJEEGnve_P_OL-GoFGX0Q/s1600/IMG_0278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpWGCBdTRaM3uqGRhtIptAbhDdGAzHG7WuF4TdBxEew1msspYVyaCp2RifKH-_VDfYX1u-G2g_eRn4n3Jls_-yjNl9OBWxcNEsVn2MYhBBx0l-vAqsNkjACwJEEGnve_P_OL-GoFGX0Q/s200/IMG_0278.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-8579086695451644492010-10-27T15:10:00.003+02:002011-01-17T14:38:59.134+01:00feels like "home" final cruise blog-- <b>Warnemunde/Rostock</b>, Germany and <b>Tallinn, </b>Estonia<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgqjis8WciDFsU22xdSQnvZSpPLW-beuJFTBDoZndI3fnC4KK_R1yJ9D0P9m_xM4jS-3NCjhiICKSbacuLfEZc_8OB1LyZNbY8s7kS7OUzT0MMLTSqja8zQiwB7t3L2bXj6EnIvEPMuA/s320/DSC04115.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warnemunde and the North Sea</td></tr>
</tbody></table>At the half-way point of our cruise we stopped at Warnemunde, Germany. The cruise lines have dubbed Warnemunde the "Gateway to Berlin" and 90% of the passengers dutifully trekked to the train station at 5AM for the 2 hour train ride into Berlin. We watched them all pour out of the trains 14 hours later, exhausted. As D and I have already been to Berlin, we skipped the fun and stayed in port. Our table-mates (who live in Landsthul) also skipped Berlin. They ventured to the beach. D and I grabbed B and bopped over to Rostock, the area's historic county seat.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgljY5C0qE8hSThS5xwDBMTmltxRH8KEXFhVfh9VPUBw1OvlwLMAPNkZPfpR2e1fa2JG1aPo9ZZ3FtJcedXQSaDnzM1OTZZgdRAc8ihwlp7zy91kgSWaSOk9fPQVWZgfwV9gCqXTnNwM5w/s320/DSC04105.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rostock Market Square</td></tr>
</tbody></table>As we left the port, we had to pass through customs control. They had two lines: one for passengers and one for crew members. The lines, however, were not clearly marked. (Surprise surprise -- Europeans, even the super orderly German variety, can't queue). D and I ended up going through the crew turnstyle. The German bean counter nearly had a meltdown. Welcome "home", I thought.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYK_-mCSPUBivI7I1mZawv6FAcDZb9U0c4Gqi0wFboOmfRUQowlP9XE3wAFeJMpHbHd1QjdCzWfvqTjbciNOWWmp1AQbQRRjhLSew2ikr7HeRZJcjBNKRX_heP4TYyQM8RnA2bDc-Jzk/s640/DSC04108.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shopping and the big red balloon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYK_-mCSPUBivI7I1mZawv6FAcDZb9U0c4Gqi0wFboOmfRUQowlP9XE3wAFeJMpHbHd1QjdCzWfvqTjbciNOWWmp1AQbQRRjhLSew2ikr7HeRZJcjBNKRX_heP4TYyQM8RnA2bDc-Jzk/s1600/DSC04108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>It happened to be market day in Rostock, so we bought cheese and bread and fruit for lunch and strolled the main shopping district. If we hadn't been living here for the past two years, we would have marvelled at the quaintness of it, but Rostock's market is like any other market in any other town. We did, however, get to get our shop on at the T.J. Maxx buying a winter coat for C and some fill-in clothes for D. See, upon leaving Dover, D and I had a misunderstanding. I had packed for the boys and I had packed for myself. I packed for our weekend in Dover separately. I thought I had explained perfectly well that the dirty clothes from Dover were spending the cruise in the car. D missed the memo, and by our halfway point he was running out of clothes, even though I had already done laundry once. The rest of us could get home without doing more wash, so I couldn't help but laugh when I found him in the men's department with a shopping basket full of underwear, socks, and t shirts. I guess he didn't want to do laundry either.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7F9lXIi5EKezVYITEPYPtdezgyT1DboT-nyUtywkYtv3WWq-Jn5rK9_MB-PIzZJkA4IoKEPULOwBi35MwsSYYDiqOhmQEemQWDy26U9nOmxbyxbe-F32uQn22jOnTJm1qsJLSJJfbWQs/s320/DSC04114.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the shipyard</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7F9lXIi5EKezVYITEPYPtdezgyT1DboT-nyUtywkYtv3WWq-Jn5rK9_MB-PIzZJkA4IoKEPULOwBi35MwsSYYDiqOhmQEemQWDy26U9nOmxbyxbe-F32uQn22jOnTJm1qsJLSJJfbWQs/s1600/DSC04114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7F9lXIi5EKezVYITEPYPtdezgyT1DboT-nyUtywkYtv3WWq-Jn5rK9_MB-PIzZJkA4IoKEPULOwBi35MwsSYYDiqOhmQEemQWDy26U9nOmxbyxbe-F32uQn22jOnTJm1qsJLSJJfbWQs/s1600/DSC04114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></a> The best thing about Warnemunde is that it made me feel better about my limited German language skills. Most of the time, here, when I try to speak German, the locals look at me like I have horns growing out of my head. In Rostock, however, every market vendor, barrista, and store clerk understood me. I'm not sure whether the difference is dialect or if in a tourist area the locals are more willing to roll with an outsider's slight mispronounciations and figure things out. Probably a little of both.<br />
<br />
It's not a bad thing, to stay on the boat when every one else goes exploring. There were no character meet-and-greets in port, but there were still activities, demonstrations, movies, and other fun to be had. As we left Warnemunde that evening the boat --the Disney Magic-- sailed right past the shipyard where she was built. As a side note, Disney's newest cruise liner, the Disney Dream, is being built in another German shipyard, in Papenburg, about 3hours from us. It's due to leave dry-dock this weekend and then float out to sea in the next couple of weeks.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Tallinn, Estonia</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJv2fponpcdIQcgwkRRkrsD58SBpq4Lg0t3Faimif3LDsQXRBwr_AAXHIbJQnQU5r7oCAgEKLqDF28lbGXG3Aiah_nPrSJ1F28Q3c1IBrYvqfnk4ykSuNgopKcj9vIfNCSnI2g8HvdiU/s1600/DSC04390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJv2fponpcdIQcgwkRRkrsD58SBpq4Lg0t3Faimif3LDsQXRBwr_AAXHIbJQnQU5r7oCAgEKLqDF28lbGXG3Aiah_nPrSJ1F28Q3c1IBrYvqfnk4ykSuNgopKcj9vIfNCSnI2g8HvdiU/s320/DSC04390.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Of the 7 ports of call, Tallinn was the one I was most excited about. The thought of going to St. Petersburg was cool, but going to Estonia sounded downright exotic. I mean Estonia of "Estonia-Latvia-and-Lithuania" fame, one of the big three Baltic rebels that told the USSR to stuff it. We've seen a lot of Europe, but I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow going to Estonia would make us world travelers in a way that going to Italy, Austria, or even Poland just couldn't.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4SRcpWD9zlSEG11RHjH1BNTcfNAymtp8ODzgeXpZtNMMxxgDUd04tRF-PLx6IE6UXBQMHhdkmOmAARWBSk4EB6KvpvT9A644tpNdr9Iu6_CxzNUrPUJThxPyPyR5ARH_FNJ2Ljkoqws/s1600/DSC04376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4SRcpWD9zlSEG11RHjH1BNTcfNAymtp8ODzgeXpZtNMMxxgDUd04tRF-PLx6IE6UXBQMHhdkmOmAARWBSk4EB6KvpvT9A644tpNdr9Iu6_CxzNUrPUJThxPyPyR5ARH_FNJ2Ljkoqws/s320/DSC04376.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
Except...<br />
No one ever told me and I never bothered to learn that Estonia spent much of her life under German rule, was established by Germanic peoples, and looks and feels a lot like any other German city. I kid you not, if you blindfolded me and plopped me in the middle of Tallinn's historic district, I could have been in Heidelberg, Rothenburg, Monschau, or any other historic German city.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmF04knXwFncj0snEeFOyfdGqQP0VP1Qwt8aYTIuPFXfHAmUK6Urc8sxRAhtNykYkYWePzChbZOKqbwdBUCUMismjjcOKMAShsV1LTQRVUSvXK2AQ9OiR1Ce-ZG9QhlakcP762Y8LpqEQ/s320/DSC04422.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweater Wall -- stall after stall of knitted items</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmF04knXwFncj0snEeFOyfdGqQP0VP1Qwt8aYTIuPFXfHAmUK6Urc8sxRAhtNykYkYWePzChbZOKqbwdBUCUMismjjcOKMAShsV1LTQRVUSvXK2AQ9OiR1Ce-ZG9QhlakcP762Y8LpqEQ/s1600/DSC04422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtDZ8nU1ScDHiIn0Vh2VBVRAdIRi8zKbBfw4SIRxU_JMYiaGR-4XsWqTb7VqTYiWRp4nb33iklmF_OHA8C8DzTXwYPsq6hYUfdEGe7Ge_Dw6r02X7XW7XDZ1dDwWmsRQaC2WBNnmqpvw/s1600/DSC04405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtDZ8nU1ScDHiIn0Vh2VBVRAdIRi8zKbBfw4SIRxU_JMYiaGR-4XsWqTb7VqTYiWRp4nb33iklmF_OHA8C8DzTXwYPsq6hYUfdEGe7Ge_Dw6r02X7XW7XDZ1dDwWmsRQaC2WBNnmqpvw/s320/DSC04405.JPG" width="240" /></a>We took B with us into Tallinn so we wandered the historic district, followed along with a walking tour, climbed some old ruins, drank some good beer, and ducked into a local church or two, one of which was the picturesque Russian church, which apparently the Estonians hate, but keep around as a political and cultural peace offering to the Russian minority that still calls Estonia home. Before heading back to the boat, we detoured to an Estonian grocery store to buy diapers. I had brought plenty, I thought. But B spent a lot more time in the nursery than we anticipated and I think they changed the kids hourly, whether they needed it or not, and I was running low. Diapers on board cost a whopping $1.50 a piece. I'm happy to report that Estonian pampers are just like the German ones. As we re-boarded the ship each day we had to pass through metal detectors and have our bags x-rayed. I caused the crew members manning the machines to chuckle as I sent my mega-pack of 100 Pampers through to be scanned. (It was the smallest bunch they had in B's size) -- Good Times!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OSaSFPRgun6fowxQrUr48lfx4cED1nTpWQCMwB8SH5c2vmMQbMM3YewGbnxRfEh5-mJvtCgfNlgrwWUT4Ba7Sgey91_f97JnM71JscJ_8pxZ6UMofeE_OLLVDJkwepbTBhx3zPY6A0A/s320/DSC04411.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View to the port from the ramparts</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gvD7ujboYK87jcpqYq81JOXxgxwS9GaMHIT9j2Xsdrmms1mPDh9ZZpm5HgMZrvgpeoExDe_kJF1ggNGAZT0RpWGbANh0EZTxtQArGS89MF_3tDMTUpiHpNzwnjBfZp08gG0E-nwlj28/s320/DSC04412.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tallinn's New Town</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OSaSFPRgun6fowxQrUr48lfx4cED1nTpWQCMwB8SH5c2vmMQbMM3YewGbnxRfEh5-mJvtCgfNlgrwWUT4Ba7Sgey91_f97JnM71JscJ_8pxZ6UMofeE_OLLVDJkwepbTBhx3zPY6A0A/s1600/DSC04411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gvD7ujboYK87jcpqYq81JOXxgxwS9GaMHIT9j2Xsdrmms1mPDh9ZZpm5HgMZrvgpeoExDe_kJF1ggNGAZT0RpWGbANh0EZTxtQArGS89MF_3tDMTUpiHpNzwnjBfZp08gG0E-nwlj28/s1600/DSC04412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-2570979450259511702010-10-26T21:38:00.003+02:002011-01-21T10:04:34.504+01:00The Russians are coming; the Russians are coming!still cruise blogging.... next up,<br />
<b>ST PETERSBURG</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Hh52tGjqq0vY6BF81m16AaHRGaq257lpYk3hZcAut6l3GUXfHSPJYGQ_sg7i_Fi2tASZtX6lGswX3yHuYFBJ6S6BhIJcAsg0gySzFBYImpE4clpEq9UnDpbIJiGSV1hmQa3Y-fV_wQw/s1600/DSC04220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Hh52tGjqq0vY6BF81m16AaHRGaq257lpYk3hZcAut6l3GUXfHSPJYGQ_sg7i_Fi2tASZtX6lGswX3yHuYFBJ6S6BhIJcAsg0gySzFBYImpE4clpEq9UnDpbIJiGSV1hmQa3Y-fV_wQw/s400/DSC04220.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'm just about convinced that cruising is the best way to see the Baltic/North Sea/ Scandinavia. There are downsides, mainly that it's crowded. You can only cruise in Summer and that's when everyone else, crusiers or no, head north. But the upsides are worth considering.<br />
<br />
It's expensive, with a big 'ol "E", to travel in Northern Europe. It's expensive to sleep and it's expensive to eat, let alone expensive to do things. (Dinner for two, no wine, at a moderate eatery --easily 100 Euro). Book the right cruise and cruising can be a good value as you eat and sleep on the boat. Cruising is also the most hassle free way to see a little snippett of Russia. Russia requires US citizens to obtain a visa, an expensive and sometimes a lengthy process. I know people who have done it, but it does require planning and leg work. If you travel last minute, like we so often do, both of those things can be difficult. If you cruise into Russia, you do not need a Visa. The only catch is you *must* disembark with an organized and prearranged excursion/tour. <br />
<br />
When we booked our St Petersburg excursions online, we simultaneously tried to book B into the Nursery, to no avail. Our philosophy on Europe with little ones is this: It's not that we don't do things b/c of the kiddos, but we almost always do things a little differently with the wee set than we would on our own. We don't plan more than one event each morning and one event each afternoon. We respect lunchtime, pack oodles of snacks, and make sure there is a stroller available come afternoon nap time. So, that was the plan. We scheduled museums in the AM (when B's at his best), walking tours in the afternoon when we hoped he'd crash in his stroller, and D quickly volunteered to stay on board with the boys while I went to the ballet. But, a sprinkling of pixie dust later, turns out the nursery had space for him on our St Petersburg days after all. SCORE! (Though D still begged off the ballet, so the kids wouldn't be up past their bed times. Took one for the team, he did.)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUpBHnyptK7KWDwaWbVL2jOstRtymDqWfI_JM1opU0QuoR9k-kfXsP102IjJlseJ7Ak9hKnl7LO0cys3h6aGnDZ7eYROxU8SjO0wr0l4KekfziRNURyQ-D1exMSWPLQG3pBJphmJnH4A/s1600/DSC04173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUpBHnyptK7KWDwaWbVL2jOstRtymDqWfI_JM1opU0QuoR9k-kfXsP102IjJlseJ7Ak9hKnl7LO0cys3h6aGnDZ7eYROxU8SjO0wr0l4KekfziRNURyQ-D1exMSWPLQG3pBJphmJnH4A/s320/DSC04173.JPG" width="320" /></a>First up was an afternoon walking tour full of churches, palaces, Russian history, and BRIDES -- lots and lots of brides. Because St. Petersburg is such a beautiful city, it's a popular destination wedding spot for Russian couples. Marriage in Russia is still largely a state thing and sprinkled all over the city are wedding halls that seem to function kind of like wedding chapels in Vegas with ceremonies scheduled every 15 minutes in high season. Apparently summer is high season. During our three hour walking tour we saw 25 brides and grooms posing for pictures in local parks. (One of the teenage girls on our tour was keeping track).<br />
<br />
St Petersburg is a beautiful beautiful city, but other than an onion-domed church here and there and the magnificent <a href="http://www.saint-petersburg.com/virtual-tour/church-of-savior.asp">Church of the Spilled Blood</a> , it doesn't really look "Russian". Peter the Great built St Petersburg, from scratch, out of the marshlands in the 1700s, so it's not a very old city. Peter was a well-educated, well-traveled man, who loved Amsterdam. Lo and behold, St. Petersburg looks a lot like Amsterdam, more ornate, but with the same general character.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_Dy8P-SO7HfhXbxyrtZXeYsZgcVmm2egpdUqiXdR50mMkHhmG3Zy2q8qU4BAjWiniTTxbtglu7cHanda9Or3qlu6UmImeebbnFq76cIvElZ7WMAcDPLxywwGSEeZnZbe6fvURpJHulM/s1600/DSC04195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_Dy8P-SO7HfhXbxyrtZXeYsZgcVmm2egpdUqiXdR50mMkHhmG3Zy2q8qU4BAjWiniTTxbtglu7cHanda9Or3qlu6UmImeebbnFq76cIvElZ7WMAcDPLxywwGSEeZnZbe6fvURpJHulM/s200/DSC04195.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter Palace</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Every excursion we went on began with a guided bus ride narrating the sights we passed. Curiously, not a single guide pointed out any revolution/communist era sights. They gave us current information concerning demographics and daily life in St. Petersburg, but no 20th century history --at all. We drove past Lenin's command post, churches used to store/hide huge repositories of art and other valuables during WW2 when it was clear St. Petersburg would come under siege, and old KGB headquarters, yet the guides said nothing. When asked directly about life in soviet-era Russia, the guides quickly brought discussion back around to Peter and Catherine's eighteenth century heyday. Disney offers lectures before each port of call, providing guests with historical overviews. I didn't attend any of the lectures --too much other stuff to do. But, fortuitously, the guy who gave the lectures happened to be on our tour, and he filled us in as we drove past. I'm sure many Russians simply don't know very much(having never been taught) about Russia's embattled past. Really, what society --anywhere-- wants to highlight again and again the darkest days of their history. It's not so much that the guides denied Russia's bleak years, they simply had no interest in discussing it. I would leave it at that.......<br />
<br />
<i>Except.....</i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzG-ecU6jWqCeSLWykml4y2MteoAdqvN3Y-51o_sl2XPH4PjrRuq9BMP87oqnDP1ShqvJDYA_FgUg2rvUUGkdOnNxG6X1a6vhUn5YZ8RP4_BO6VqsEYyYZwUkgNagfE0GhyphenhyphendK3nu7ylE/s320/DSC04169.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Isaacs Cathedral</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzG-ecU6jWqCeSLWykml4y2MteoAdqvN3Y-51o_sl2XPH4PjrRuq9BMP87oqnDP1ShqvJDYA_FgUg2rvUUGkdOnNxG6X1a6vhUn5YZ8RP4_BO6VqsEYyYZwUkgNagfE0GhyphenhyphendK3nu7ylE/s1600/DSC04169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>All of our guides spoke excellent English and all were university educated. Two of them were teachers who picked up tours in the busiest tourist months for extra income. All were significantly younger than D and I (10 years, give or take).<br />
<br />
Hmmm??????<br />
<br />
I was 10 when the Cold War started thawing. I was 15 when the Soviet Union collapsed and 20 when the former Soviet republics first competed under their own flags in the Olympic games. That means our guides were babies, preschoolers and tweens and have spent much of their lives in an, presumably, increasingly "free" Russia. Consider too that one of the guides explained to us that just like America, Russia is a large country divided into states because<i> smaller states are easier to control</i>. Yep, control was her word. Maybe she meant govern and the word choice got lost in translation? Maybe she's only had a brief primer on American government and legitimately believes that improving administrative logistics is the main impetus behind statehood? I realize it could take more than a single generation to undo years of entrenched thought and maybe today's Russian tweens (the ones who will be tour guides 15 years from now) have a markedly different perspective, but I thought the statement telling nonetheless.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3aba3hqXGY-mOXzVC-Ck8PLOuT2_ZJwPIRJYy2wT3EeeqYaZ728ecA2lYMdIHcZpexQad6B3zJANrIqSN-LX7DwCZqo22iEv4ZvtJWvHiPR8vp-avnuirEUJdb9usRChVVUSMkTyfH4/s1600/DSC04252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
Back to touring....<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3aba3hqXGY-mOXzVC-Ck8PLOuT2_ZJwPIRJYy2wT3EeeqYaZ728ecA2lYMdIHcZpexQad6B3zJANrIqSN-LX7DwCZqo22iEv4ZvtJWvHiPR8vp-avnuirEUJdb9usRChVVUSMkTyfH4/s320/DSC04252.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer Palace</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The next morning, we boarded buses and rode about an hour outside of St Petersburg to Catherine the Great's summer palace. Palatial is indeed the right word. Stunning. We saw the outside of the Winter Palace during our walking tour but didn't go inside. We chose to tour the inside of the summer palace because of the <a href="http://www.geo.uw.edu.pl/HOBBY/AMBER/amberroom.htm">Amber Room</a>-- an entire room with floor to ceiling Baltic Amber siding. The current room has been recreated. During the war the palace was occupied, bombed, and burnt and the siding was not removed for safekeeping. Presumably there's some Nazi treasure chest somewhere stuffed to the brim with Catherine's amber.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuSSa-dBffhY6tQVFtgq-JjaaUpR5312dEl10v7mb1OmZkENx5UhLuKyyOnj4kmulG7wGvGVNhSJqj98D-F_IX5dWfWuIpQrSjXmlK-KUqexk44Ue0uGaUxus0Mq4aOhJxUC2DcnaJKrg/s1600/DSC04271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuSSa-dBffhY6tQVFtgq-JjaaUpR5312dEl10v7mb1OmZkENx5UhLuKyyOnj4kmulG7wGvGVNhSJqj98D-F_IX5dWfWuIpQrSjXmlK-KUqexk44Ue0uGaUxus0Mq4aOhJxUC2DcnaJKrg/s200/DSC04271.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ballroom -- look at all the people!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>As we drove to the outskirts of the city, we learned that 95% of St Petersburg's residents live in apartments and that real estate is expensive, Southern California kind of expensive. What was not clear is whether there are any subsidized paths to home ownership or whether most Russians in the city rent because that's the affordable way to do it, which of course begs the question: who exactly owns all the property--corporations, businesses, government or the Russian nouveau riche? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUfV1cEbuAZgKHIWifj4x5YDyiKwyY76Q2rW2AlwMc5Lt4avqGDjxDwPHfdv3xyrbAfR9Ib4ezIAC2Wk6mrrEyOQyd2ZFIfKZunEdGzvGIzWyXkYefBl673CcRjnuWDSBL1Q0vN3eqLl0/s1600/DSC04334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUfV1cEbuAZgKHIWifj4x5YDyiKwyY76Q2rW2AlwMc5Lt4avqGDjxDwPHfdv3xyrbAfR9Ib4ezIAC2Wk6mrrEyOQyd2ZFIfKZunEdGzvGIzWyXkYefBl673CcRjnuWDSBL1Q0vN3eqLl0/s320/DSC04334.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1w-obNzGhJ5prw5CCt9GkZCi49aP3A_ufAd9qZWZDW_Up58ArSB-z372L474FYyxtBwTunWYPSpKfI-b8uW5ub8T5D0gQJ9W07e_vOzXk3CXtzIeMhiPJgB3ZKXqWQwCaVDnZTcW5udU/s1600/DSC04178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1w-obNzGhJ5prw5CCt9GkZCi49aP3A_ufAd9qZWZDW_Up58ArSB-z372L474FYyxtBwTunWYPSpKfI-b8uW5ub8T5D0gQJ9W07e_vOzXk3CXtzIeMhiPJgB3ZKXqWQwCaVDnZTcW5udU/s320/DSC04178.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpg1ZBun7gPhW33U6RyKrrBPADuVMQqRor2DD5RfBN0QldpP9U4kytfA2n_iiL3lCYQgBFjNfh3-mHzNNsFdgRiianXTcJ6H-XLucnwWe4C6COCJMPS-YCYnoa_n0G5In3f3ljiViZUE/s1600/DSC04332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpg1ZBun7gPhW33U6RyKrrBPADuVMQqRor2DD5RfBN0QldpP9U4kytfA2n_iiL3lCYQgBFjNfh3-mHzNNsFdgRiianXTcJ6H-XLucnwWe4C6COCJMPS-YCYnoa_n0G5In3f3ljiViZUE/s320/DSC04332.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It happened to be Naval Day in St Petersburg the morning we went to the palace, so our bus ride back to the boat took close to three hours. We had to wait for parading sailors, cheering crowds, and booming canon as St Petersburg put her naval might on display. As an outsider how do you see such a display and not call to mind news footage of May Day parades and tanks rolling through Red Square? Just another instance how St Petersburg, as an example of both historical and modern Russia, leaves me scratching my head. I can't shake the feeling that it's a city stuck at a crossroads, a city that wants to be progressive but just isn't sure how. Other than our guides we didn't get to interact with any "real" Russians. We didn't get shoot vodka with a local or breathe any local air, so there's much I didn't get to experience. Even the performance of Swan Lake I attended was scripted for cruise passengers. Don't get me wrong, it was an AWESOME performance, by a respected Russian ballet company in the oldest theatre in town, but there wasn't a Russian in sight -- by necessary design, I imagine. After all, what do so many tourists, me included, want to do in Russia? What do they view as the quintessential Russian experience, if not attending the ballet? It makes sense, then, that the ballet company would simply contract with the cruise lines to fill the theatre with ballet-seeking passengers. All in all, St Petersburg was my favorite port city of the cruise, so definitely go if life ever hands you the chance.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-18675370349054090692010-10-25T13:07:00.002+02:002011-01-21T10:10:38.888+01:00Scandinavian Cities<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBd1nBGeI41CEDlBw6eopUqXCzISoZuemP8WzKsBFfyWEn2D6ABlUWQxU4yOJqsSWE18uNGCFQsq_ylp__lIfb7L2yafQZrETO1k6H4_dFYFBZmwqW9-_wWHhIu80EpE71m9E2nB6G2vg/s320/DSC03895.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view of Oslo harbor from our porthole</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Our dash through Northern Europe in August was dubbed a "Capitals" cruise with ports of call at all three Scandinavian Capitals. It's now two months later and my take on Oslo, Copenhagen, and Stockholm still holds: I'm glad I visited, but if I'd gone through the hassle and expense to connect the three on my own without the cruise experience thrown in, and if those cities were all I saw of the region, I'd have been disappointed. Some of that stems from what I fear is metropolis fatigue. We've crammed alot in over the last 2 years and sometimes one European city really does blend into the next. Now that I've seen the cities, I'm pretty sure Scandinavia's treasures lie in getting out and enjoying the natural beauty--cruising the Fjords in Norway or the Archipelego's in Sweden (two things I would definitely go back to do).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLWGYYt58STtXVGgwnWiC1HS5DURb4vA7Rf7NF8jRS2ZcMfv3NL5tiN0krVyvlKcAqCFfYVY-t14zmquz4CGbpu5FPh73VYHg0VZlCA9uIdtDjI9vL4A04SVDEV0mSFL81BQ8a0gzLM-U/s1600/DSC03994.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtF4VvEKBXE_ZAnLS9-2-djU7crpx0qCSUFA8ooxVA6NfAV6sJUR0ALyCrijhWXKb_9tj4yK_nj-9vcW8Iyo5NiZJk-Db2cSLYKeutixq_xgRyFjhrznPAKAx4ZqWRJKZuQl-G-TU3JeU/s1600/DSC03997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBd1nBGeI41CEDlBw6eopUqXCzISoZuemP8WzKsBFfyWEn2D6ABlUWQxU4yOJqsSWE18uNGCFQsq_ylp__lIfb7L2yafQZrETO1k6H4_dFYFBZmwqW9-_wWHhIu80EpE71m9E2nB6G2vg/s1600/DSC03895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><b>OSLO</b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwwIeh_VsDq0SXNXIHSx3X7CbW7Ucb4PA2Lb-3t5Y30_hlGQ6QnFDB6KhDvsZ8vnx8dLE_Nb9StnUJ4QB1-oy4PTNPE5QweyP8CHBBX56vY-gA8hm6cI2ZGRhHY2O6Znoa9mZ5xCJSqY/s1600/DSC04005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwwIeh_VsDq0SXNXIHSx3X7CbW7Ucb4PA2Lb-3t5Y30_hlGQ6QnFDB6KhDvsZ8vnx8dLE_Nb9StnUJ4QB1-oy4PTNPE5QweyP8CHBBX56vY-gA8hm6cI2ZGRhHY2O6Znoa9mZ5xCJSqY/s200/DSC04005.JPG" width="200" /></a>Oslo was my favorite of the three cities. We walked from the cruise terminal to the main railway station (the beginning of Rick Steve's walking tour). We followed Steve's path ducking into churches and pausing in front of monuments to read more about Norwegian history. We eyed the cafe famous Norwegian playwrite Henrik Ibsen frequented and meandered a <a href="http://www.visitnorway.com/en/Articles/Theme/What-to-do/Attractions/Vigelandsparken-sculpture-park/">sculpture garden</a> dedicated to the works of Gustav Vigeland. His most famous work might very well be the <a href="http://cruises.about.com/od/northerneuropeancruises/ig/Oslo--Norway-Pictures/Vigeland-s-Angry-Boy-Statue.htm">screaming baby</a>. Legend has it he gave his model candy, and then quickly took it away to encourage toddler rage. Yep, I'd say he got it about right.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdy2heZOH-cVz_zEuUJKytC1UpMYt5jo-tYx5bSxqXFmm0BHh9Dz3zA5HyK5qT7UjBPuCKH3THLOfeQ8qBmQJ52mP1F4dGsqD7HLxS-K8Lvvy-ZOGjJEfqINhDjhFBRW5CYCf5-TfjqE/s1600/DSC03974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdy2heZOH-cVz_zEuUJKytC1UpMYt5jo-tYx5bSxqXFmm0BHh9Dz3zA5HyK5qT7UjBPuCKH3THLOfeQ8qBmQJ52mP1F4dGsqD7HLxS-K8Lvvy-ZOGjJEfqINhDjhFBRW5CYCf5-TfjqE/s200/DSC03974.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-R9Wo1-5LNOIMPB3sarpi6fEHMqMG6FxIPYPPn2c9w-QhVsbvzh7NNcst-uNLn5K1Wis0FzkEoiy80h_rDm_IarK08r-CFSXvGm96KN4sBaG3RARvL-wtyDSiT5A5hN97KcGaoQiVac/s1600/DSC03944.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-R9Wo1-5LNOIMPB3sarpi6fEHMqMG6FxIPYPPn2c9w-QhVsbvzh7NNcst-uNLn5K1Wis0FzkEoiy80h_rDm_IarK08r-CFSXvGm96KN4sBaG3RARvL-wtyDSiT5A5hN97KcGaoQiVac/s200/DSC03944.JPG" width="200" /></a>Then we popped into the National Art Gallery to see their <a href="http://www.norwaves.com/edvard-munch-man-behind-scream-and-munch-museum.html">Munch</a> collection. Next, we grabbed a ferry across the bay and toured the <a href="http://www.norway.com/directories/d_company.asp?id=671">Viking Ship Museum</a>, with two remarkably well-preserved, Leif Ericsson era Viking ships. The ships were likely grave ships, burial sites set adrift in the sea and were rather neat to see up close. After a quick and expensive lunch (25 USD for a reindeer burger and baked potato), we hit the open-air <a href="http://www.norskfolkemuseum.no/en/Exhibits/The-Open-Air-Museum/">Norsk folk museum</a> which houses a 12th century <a href="http://home.loopme.com/fortidsminneforeningen/sites/fortidsengelsk/go.cfm?id=66555">Stave Church</a>, the most architecturally unique church I think I've ever seen, but apparently a style common in old Norway. Also, lots and lots of sod houses. The museum has recreated Norwegian village life through the centuries by trucking in restored buildings from elsewhere in Norway and is a great way to get an overview of everyday life in Norway from the middle ages all the way up to present times.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJfpZ3ralaY_vd-vYlqIkhaCAH-fzVWI-VNMyh4NyeEjX9CWIbajNzCAnNaWyNZ1cxZhpFthu_9soFG6mGUHIfDCfbuBcUzbWl8wJQVh_LnTbLBKWYCaNMVLd9PrPj3L3qdSJGOjiMTk/s1600/DSC04095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilb5zOPkctmRKhDvaL-Y-De42T822FxGyBmtKTBi6hlOvNI5AhxYmHDS3yJeiQqxUs5w1pA6zxuRORdGiRWhdoi2oDMMHvPOkFFimFdPQbORgmim_k2pGeoR2gSIG-FWDgkoAlaWgmFOc/s1600/DSC03915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilb5zOPkctmRKhDvaL-Y-De42T822FxGyBmtKTBi6hlOvNI5AhxYmHDS3yJeiQqxUs5w1pA6zxuRORdGiRWhdoi2oDMMHvPOkFFimFdPQbORgmim_k2pGeoR2gSIG-FWDgkoAlaWgmFOc/s200/DSC03915.JPG" width="200" /></a>I liked Oslo, and while expensive, the Oslo Pass provides a good value including all public transport and museum entrance fees. The city is relatively compact so with only one day to sightsee we could cram alot in. Not so much with our next stop and least favorite port of the entire cruise (not simply my least favorite of the Scandinavian big three): Copenhagen<b> </b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0azNU3zVC0gr6WndoAuL1HJU4wULfhOt2UkS0TgPtRLzbEgE2NmpBpihtdeEiKs2Pfv1RhBzcR5RPwDiW8TMLtg1ATaA10Yp7DsCkIZC-wDDIBZqJMVup2bc_rI5wTKiax0eoxAu3SU/s1600/DSC04041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0azNU3zVC0gr6WndoAuL1HJU4wULfhOt2UkS0TgPtRLzbEgE2NmpBpihtdeEiKs2Pfv1RhBzcR5RPwDiW8TMLtg1ATaA10Yp7DsCkIZC-wDDIBZqJMVup2bc_rI5wTKiax0eoxAu3SU/s200/DSC04041.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<b>Copenhagen</b> = urban sprawl and sprawl and sprawl. We used public transit in most of the ports and the Copenhagen system was by far the least user-friendly. Supposedly you can rent public bikes, picking them up and dropping them off at various points around the city. Um, yeah. There were never any working bikes available. BUT we did see numerous blue Copa-bikes chained with private bikes in bike racks. The public bikes have a unique design and cannot be serviced using regular bike parts, which was supposed to keep people from pedalling off with them. However, that doesn't take into account how to keep people from monopolizing them until they break. So, yeah, getting around was a bit difficult.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYffPLID9aMw-SBsSWheQ761pRwOpugD1JPHfzs0tJRETiI9ugnH7ocNHAUj9hf7R5FnZG2lbUgTmP8F_24TLvliRIk5DaolN3PjYVYNLFMaoKxolpxNFKDa_ajuUe-SroIxoZJjey5I/s1600/DSC04043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJfpZ3ralaY_vd-vYlqIkhaCAH-fzVWI-VNMyh4NyeEjX9CWIbajNzCAnNaWyNZ1cxZhpFthu_9soFG6mGUHIfDCfbuBcUzbWl8wJQVh_LnTbLBKWYCaNMVLd9PrPj3L3qdSJGOjiMTk/s320/DSC04095.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the Little Mermaid site</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYffPLID9aMw-SBsSWheQ761pRwOpugD1JPHfzs0tJRETiI9ugnH7ocNHAUj9hf7R5FnZG2lbUgTmP8F_24TLvliRIk5DaolN3PjYVYNLFMaoKxolpxNFKDa_ajuUe-SroIxoZJjey5I/s200/DSC04043.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our table at lunch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The port is right next to the Little Mermaid's home; however, the famous princess of the deep is currently on loan to Shangahi. In her place, they have erected a screen, playing a live video stream from Shanghai, a system which really had the potential to be cool. BUT, the technology stunk and you saw nothing more than a vague, grainy blob, sigh.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3Mo6VeUb55S1HJRCy9FJApvDFNlVFBhDv8e73dy1byWL2TebD42s2JzSiHm3ACIHRVElBpj45B-WGJB2C0aICzOoqSI62da_53T3He3X0urWTQxzK-Ri17KCRPqG0ONqPnHUBIGsY4c/s1600/DSC04034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIY5ltp48yFQgeOKAwQGmpX9lsUFbgOqK50hZTwr20Q6D7GL-s3PgScfOpmnr5IoW5EYZoii0cRV0sABXevPI9uDIQjGdbXTdYhKHI4PDlu_GcKEQkrXEk8szWePvIPYJBIkJ5Tm1UO30/s320/DSC04051.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christiana</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIY5ltp48yFQgeOKAwQGmpX9lsUFbgOqK50hZTwr20Q6D7GL-s3PgScfOpmnr5IoW5EYZoii0cRV0sABXevPI9uDIQjGdbXTdYhKHI4PDlu_GcKEQkrXEk8szWePvIPYJBIkJ5Tm1UO30/s1600/DSC04051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3Mo6VeUb55S1HJRCy9FJApvDFNlVFBhDv8e73dy1byWL2TebD42s2JzSiHm3ACIHRVElBpj45B-WGJB2C0aICzOoqSI62da_53T3He3X0urWTQxzK-Ri17KCRPqG0ONqPnHUBIGsY4c/s1600/DSC04034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3Mo6VeUb55S1HJRCy9FJApvDFNlVFBhDv8e73dy1byWL2TebD42s2JzSiHm3ACIHRVElBpj45B-WGJB2C0aICzOoqSI62da_53T3He3X0urWTQxzK-Ri17KCRPqG0ONqPnHUBIGsY4c/s200/DSC04034.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wJDlsj5p_45fDSVGr4IS37K_6WqIN3eLL7tHmIfVe9iLyO_qYCeGn66lmolDeW5PwhX3nkY7hg8Mc3EN4FeSzfUU8QwLkNt1-1zBON9ds6F-IhZddxFpOUyZcUAnfU1CFgsdUxus3pA/s1600/DSC04062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wJDlsj5p_45fDSVGr4IS37K_6WqIN3eLL7tHmIfVe9iLyO_qYCeGn66lmolDeW5PwhX3nkY7hg8Mc3EN4FeSzfUU8QwLkNt1-1zBON9ds6F-IhZddxFpOUyZcUAnfU1CFgsdUxus3pA/s200/DSC04062.JPG" width="200" /></a>In between a walking tour of the historical highlights, the most prominent of which was <a href="http://www.copenhagenet.dk/CPH-Rosenborg.htm">Rosenborg Castle</a>, we did have a lovely traditionally Danish lunch at a local eatery and fun stop into the Ice Bar, so all was not lost. We also wandered Christiana -- probably the world's most well known commune and Copenhagen's second most popular tourist destination. Originally Christiana grew up on the grounds of an abandoned military facility. Homes are ramshackle, without running water or electricity... and there's a waiting list to move in. New residents are voted on by the populace and they are, for the most part, a self-sufficient community, living "free" (complete with the smell of burnt tea bags permeating the air and an awful lot of brownies for sale). As you leave Christiana there's a sign over your head reminding you that "You are now entering the EU", which pretty much sums up the attitude of Christiana residents to the Danish government.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyuRt5trw2s3CoZuduiGCDQyYT9qCxZLc0HgHlNjQdkbqcTUrh6Zb6QZeK0SEf4ZiwiWek0Rre_vhJNTQKPp9kcZaj4ytJkY-In1LcYF2Cux3E2kzUNbVs1rGiXNJOI4uf6kDQbtsb7C8/s320/DSC04044.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">traditional lunch -- lots of pickled items</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I kind of wanted to pop into <a href="http://www.tivoli.dk/composite-7438.htm">Tivoli Gardens</a> -- the Danish amusement park that inspired Walt Disney as he created Disney World but we didn't make it to that side of town until late in the afternoon and feared we wouldn't make it back to the boat on time if we lingered too long -- not a good thing, considering both kiddos were on board that day. My gut thinks they would have waited for us. Otherwise they would have had to take charge of the munchkins. But, they did not wait for everyone. We ran into someone in Stockholm (last stop) who had missed the boat in Tallinn (next to last stop) and made his own way to Stockholm in order to catch up.<br />
<br />
Speaking of <b>Stockholm..</b>... <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rTHmyGqklmiLZPzuJ0p2rCGWe2NuQkaV3GXRumknGoCACc7WnLllqtrK1uSS4R1_As18cGKzXK5g1nKFri4sxAZXFYJZQ4qttQro7y2CKAp4q30gxl0kKqn0NpVtouHxSx0Q53AjBKs/s1600/DSC04438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rTHmyGqklmiLZPzuJ0p2rCGWe2NuQkaV3GXRumknGoCACc7WnLllqtrK1uSS4R1_As18cGKzXK5g1nKFri4sxAZXFYJZQ4qttQro7y2CKAp4q30gxl0kKqn0NpVtouHxSx0Q53AjBKs/s320/DSC04438.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmopUbgBLfXagkxDN5MH9x127DfQ5d7NzdqJXboml5a5MX5PylDlD103C1jL0t17c18tjkaHpYl3cwYpXwvC3aJFVmZ_U0XPh6LaHC38Kadm9eA9jL2GioGWFYzS4oFoayAViOx4Bm5Q/s1600/DSC04461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmopUbgBLfXagkxDN5MH9x127DfQ5d7NzdqJXboml5a5MX5PylDlD103C1jL0t17c18tjkaHpYl3cwYpXwvC3aJFVmZ_U0XPh6LaHC38Kadm9eA9jL2GioGWFYzS4oFoayAViOx4Bm5Q/s200/DSC04461.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Stockholm was fun. Disney Cruise Line provided transportation from the port to a centralized drop off station, but we walked to the local bus stop and made our own way into town.We started the morning at the <a href="http://www.vasamuseet.se/">Vasa Museum</a>: In 1625 King Gustav commissioned a warship to be built. The ship was poorly designed, too top heavy, and sunk within 15 minutes of sailing. In the1960s the ship was found, completely in tact, off the coast of Sweden and forms the entirety of the Vasa Museum. It's a good thing we made it our first stop, because by the time we left 90 minutes later, the tour buses had arrived and the admission lines were huge.<br />
<br />
After the VASA, we meandered the old town with our handy Rick Steves walking tour and then back to the boat for an early afternoon boarding time. We only had a short day in Stockholm and although there was more to see, I don't feel the need to go back just to see it. As we cruised out of Stockholm to begin making our way back to Dover, we cruised through the island chain known as the <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Travel/story?id=8182129&page=1">Archipelagos</a>. The scenery was stunning, and I would definitely go back to spend a few days island hopping, especially if we weren't still taking a stroller with us everywhere we go.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDSJxlQHfTrWhAmnJbxJ4XjltpL1a8S6n4QCEWzwxh0aLsm-p0zssQrQnF_6F5dlFXDQJkg8NL06qV-D7epKTzcAN7q2AgKHVsf0hf_3tLHT4YZ6z-EjIqCGsOsnHyUTSKUzBQU42z3A/s1600/DSC04499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDSJxlQHfTrWhAmnJbxJ4XjltpL1a8S6n4QCEWzwxh0aLsm-p0zssQrQnF_6F5dlFXDQJkg8NL06qV-D7epKTzcAN7q2AgKHVsf0hf_3tLHT4YZ6z-EjIqCGsOsnHyUTSKUzBQU42z3A/s400/DSC04499.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Travelling in Scandinavia and the Baltic states, especially moving quickly as we were, is more cumbersome than travelling in other parts of Europe, simply because each country uses its own currency. We had to change Swedish Krone, Norwegian Krone, and Danish Krone, as well as Russian Rubels, Estonian Kroon and British Pounds. We obviously had plenty of Euro in Germany, and we could have easily used Euro in Estonia because as of January 2011 Estonia is changing to the Euro. Disney Cruise Line offers a helpful service in that they will change money on board for you and then let you turn in any unused currency at the same rate you bought it. Their exchange rates weren't the best, but you weren't paying fees or losing money both directions. However, they only offered the service to and from US Dollars, and I think we only had 30 USD on hand between us. So yep, we kept changing that same 30 dollars all week long and then hit an ATM as soon as we found one in each port. It wasn't all bad, however. I ended up with amber earrings from St Petersburg, a limestone mortar and pestle from Estonia, and yummy snacks from the Stockholm market just 'cause we had money left to burn.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbumqBufNu0awFCQBBoI_p_c6QNEkIahGY0k1nHuGO2P6AKsQajoU5waKt5pBo9H1SRBHKESkEFsM-eeSfDpKxMfRz4IT_-CiydHTdQ5FegoP8jKZXRhkAkAY4EimzjSdBzlAZgf4AWww/s320/DSC04493.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Stockholm our bus had to pull over to let the marching band through. Happens in Germany all the time. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwHJ31vRRox1IZ7vYfBPU181HYqnYBUCZMopUipAkTb7vjIEhvlTTmV0SFCvDLL-yUpiVyElHgQ8cxd43tQgfB45VqGey8pT1_IT0YBi_qfYUsI80EIsRtC56jxZfen8qq1Tt4zdHkKo/s320/DSC04497.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a great market in Stockholm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-39491320780779187512010-10-23T15:36:00.001+02:002011-01-17T14:41:02.318+01:00Dover: Second Chances<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQa5stQ9W59od4WPFZtDlcDMJeCq9Zam1-LCtL41Rx5crNqaVpSKyGmul7i8RSXdaoKPEiBTFOv5PZgE2AF-Fq8rVoo0yuEUD9fyfaytyzGGAF2bEfqzFg63ZYSRjcBA97NE47SDM8UTQ/s1600/DSC03806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQa5stQ9W59od4WPFZtDlcDMJeCq9Zam1-LCtL41Rx5crNqaVpSKyGmul7i8RSXdaoKPEiBTFOv5PZgE2AF-Fq8rVoo0yuEUD9fyfaytyzGGAF2bEfqzFg63ZYSRjcBA97NE47SDM8UTQ/s320/DSC03806.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Our summer cruise through the Baltic Sea, departed from Dover, England, so although we didn't board the boat until Sunday we headed to the UK on Friday afternoon in order to spend Saturday in Canterbury, correcting an oversight my teenage self made nearly 20 years ago.<br />
<br />
We took the ferry across the Channel from Dunkirk, way way way cheaper than the Channel Tunnel and this way, D didn't have to drive and the boys could frolic on the ferry rather than being cooped up in the car. Including the crossing (but not the time change), the trip took about 6.5 hours. C was convinced for the first half of the ferry ride that he was on "Mickey's Boat" and he was distressed that Mickey himself was nowhere to be found. [just imagine how much more impressive Mickey's actual boat was for him when we pulled up to the port Sunday afternoon.]<br />
<br />
We spent Friday and Saturday night in a Holiday Inn in Ashford, about halfway between Dover and Cantebury. During cruise/summer sea season, hotel rooms in Dover itself are as scarce as they are pricey, so either book way ahead or be prepared to sleep in the surrounding towns. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqR8blXqIkpCngg65J4R5LboRS34v7D6bIRuJk2T69E6kIwFP1ZzJE7cxmy_mzvWfb3fzRrCx7cu2NpSeyQaw6fM7whAWRGpRXdN5bSIzy71FZApfzuYg69-fHrZRO1qyv8iK11A5wN7E/s1600/DSC03799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqR8blXqIkpCngg65J4R5LboRS34v7D6bIRuJk2T69E6kIwFP1ZzJE7cxmy_mzvWfb3fzRrCx7cu2NpSeyQaw6fM7whAWRGpRXdN5bSIzy71FZApfzuYg69-fHrZRO1qyv8iK11A5wN7E/s320/DSC03799.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Saturday we headed to the Medieval mecca of Canterbury. I spent several hours in Canterbury in 1991 as a quick side trip between Calais and London with a tour group of high school students. We didn't get to tour the Cathedral because it was closed for an event, and I made the mistake of not buying a copy of <i>Cantebury Tales</i>, even though the thought crossed my mind. Fast forward a few years: I declared myself an English major in an undergraduate English department heavy in Medieval, Rennaisance, and British Literature classes. <i>Canterbury Tales</i> ended up on a class reading list at least three or four times. Each semester I studied it, I wished I had bought a copy while I was in Cantebury--not necessarily a leather-bound, fancy copy. Heck it could have been the same Penguin translated copy in the campus book store, I simply wanted a copy that came from Canterbury.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>BUT, unless you're a serious British history student or have enough time in your London itinerary to make Canterbury a day-trip, it's not really a destination of itself. I doubted we'd get back. While the other members of the family might have preferred spending Saturday exploring Dover or climbing castles, I invoked mama's privilege and they never seriously got a vote. We were doing Canterbury on Saturday and they could like it or not. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
I quickly ducked into the Cathedral while D and the boys walked the street; then I found a bookstore to buy my copy of the<i> Tales</i>, then we picknicked and walked the old wall that surrounds the city learning more about Medieval Canterbury's history before heading back to the hotel to let B grab a nap.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngttbvoYOcD-wqjo8X2rxocgJabeu-PVa0mBUpGmC33eiHQwY_T5mmxuhKf-ZONNu58Q1Yf6ughVkHTOWmR3-298jt3nJ8jNx-ww8JpOJ1V22h6SCWVyOYU3cbnu18lZPVjPOZ-h9QhQ/s1600/DSC03802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngttbvoYOcD-wqjo8X2rxocgJabeu-PVa0mBUpGmC33eiHQwY_T5mmxuhKf-ZONNu58Q1Yf6ughVkHTOWmR3-298jt3nJ8jNx-ww8JpOJ1V22h6SCWVyOYU3cbnu18lZPVjPOZ-h9QhQ/s320/DSC03802.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>That evening we journeyed to the seaside resort town of Folkestone. Folkestone's heyday was during Victorian times but in recent decades the town has revitalized its sea front and restored a few of the old hotels. It's easy to stand on the sea wall, close your eyes, and imagine the promenade filled with hoop skirts and parasols as the turn-of-the-century elite took the air and spent the evenings strolling the garden paths to see and be seen. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zbHzBrdVFX6ld6nDYk_4lqyoSq4bHKrcROvnnz6nxSGoIz_dQRpTf0CgNK98ZstnvwPh1P9bi1KyKKdITp9rYaP6Ec5fUUTDUHn4M21VIPz_aDaqg-RapUy5gfkEWzOTBLlLTUrb1mM/s1600/DSC03813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zbHzBrdVFX6ld6nDYk_4lqyoSq4bHKrcROvnnz6nxSGoIz_dQRpTf0CgNK98ZstnvwPh1P9bi1KyKKdITp9rYaP6Ec5fUUTDUHn4M21VIPz_aDaqg-RapUy5gfkEWzOTBLlLTUrb1mM/s320/DSC03813.JPG" width="320" /></a>The next morning we lazily made our way to the port, stopping to pick up a few things we had forgotten and took these pictures of the famous White Cliffs of Dover and the Dover Castle from the boat while we frolicked on deck. The plan was to hit Dover Castle the morning we arrived back in port before heading home to Germany, but both kiddos were worn out from two weeks of playing hard, and turns out B was fighting the sniffles, so rather than kill the close to two hours before the Castle opened, we skipped it and got an earlier ferry back across the Channel. The Castle looked grand. All summer they have special performances and festivals on the grounds. The day we were to go, they were performing Shakespeare's <i>Tempest</i> on the grounds followed by evening fireworks. Would have loved to have hung around for it. Maybe we will............ 20 years from now, on Dover's third go 'round.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-10582879340194322792010-08-09T20:08:00.001+02:002011-01-21T10:05:29.055+01:00Tales from the Baltic...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRZfYztlB-3Bo37ZEfJmD_zD18bd-n9OvYRJPl85fRtTwrqSXeby8TKtvDGpy8oNe_QsVGNNeciU-QV-l3bSriK94qJE7G6gEpJ9b4d-y85K2i5EcO2e4j94afxAx5509OsMhk9eZ7lU/s1600/2413247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRZfYztlB-3Bo37ZEfJmD_zD18bd-n9OvYRJPl85fRtTwrqSXeby8TKtvDGpy8oNe_QsVGNNeciU-QV-l3bSriK94qJE7G6gEpJ9b4d-y85K2i5EcO2e4j94afxAx5509OsMhk9eZ7lU/s320/2413247.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So, a mouse walked onto a cruise boat...<a href="http://disneycruise.disney.go.com/"><br />
</a><br />
<br />
Disney branched out into the <a href="http://disneycruise.disney.go.com/">cruise industry</a> a little over a decade ago. Now, they're just getting ready to bring their 3rd boat online, the 4th is in the shipyard, and they've added Mexican riviera and Alaskan cruises to their Carribean and European offerings. Thanks to a fantastic military discount, the family Mc just spent 12 nights cruising Northen Europe with Mickey and his pals and all I can say is WOW!<br />
<br />
Each port of call will get a blog entry, eventually (there were 6 -- Oslo, Copenhagen, Warnemunde, St Petersburg, Tallin, Stockholm, plus Dover where we began and ended) but the boat itself was the truly fabulous part of the vacation.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFoMMOGUwAd9YZzvvzGnCCm4N2lweVdlMJ0UJTtjqJ6S4MjLYeUnYSdrdWsyRcTBnCyPTWtbtImIj_BkMSpDUnF10oNsnhDap62p9Hy1-5ljSsLbPRjKF8ObvT8Mu2rHKMt45aB0G6xE/s1600/DSC03843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFoMMOGUwAd9YZzvvzGnCCm4N2lweVdlMJ0UJTtjqJ6S4MjLYeUnYSdrdWsyRcTBnCyPTWtbtImIj_BkMSpDUnF10oNsnhDap62p9Hy1-5ljSsLbPRjKF8ObvT8Mu2rHKMt45aB0G6xE/s320/DSC03843.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We had never cruised before and while we far prefer to do our own things while in port (instead of buying excursions and following guides), the experience on board was right up our alley, and yep, it is typically Disneyfied. Whatever kool-aid they drink in Orlando that enables costume-clad cast members to be chipper and cheerful while selling ice cream to sniveling kids in 100+ degrees of Florida heat and humidity, they drink it on the boat too. No one was ever less than helpful or less than happy. At the buffet restaurants I never had to balance a tray while corralling a youngster; a crew member magically appeared at my side to do one or the other. I never had to wiggle the stroller out the door as I propped it open with my hip; the guy sanding the deck, painting the porthole or polishing the elevator doors stopped what he was doing to hold the door for me. I never had to change my schedule to work around housekeeping and my room was cleaned twice a day. I never had to ask for extra towells or clean crib sheets or diaper genie refills (heck I didn't even have to ask for the Diaper Genie). Changing stations were stocked with diapers and wipes, so I didn't have to fret that I left the diaper bag in our cabin. The restrooms were never out of soap, towells, or paper. Special ordering from the menu was never questioned. Coffee was always waiting. Room service orders always correct and the front desk always helpful.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MlcKV35crMhUbMUT3FT8vAKXNyqYYQAoj-64dzHF_f4kvg5TQfNidQhvWNKAE9GBXYjCJWTUQcwZWrlP7D4uLIBCO6ADNgqfPenFZ_VsndHG5UtVQshXOJAqGInL61u3CyHKZffunlk/s1600/DSC04525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MlcKV35crMhUbMUT3FT8vAKXNyqYYQAoj-64dzHF_f4kvg5TQfNidQhvWNKAE9GBXYjCJWTUQcwZWrlP7D4uLIBCO6ADNgqfPenFZ_VsndHG5UtVQshXOJAqGInL61u3CyHKZffunlk/s200/DSC04525.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>In short, consistent 5 star treatment from every crew member, for every guest on board, even the temper-tantrum-throwing, mess-making guests (especially those guests)<br />
<br />
The boat had a lot to offer adult guests: Bingo; beer, whiskey, and wine tastings; art auctions, shopping briefings; historical lectures; piano playing lounge singers; towell folding, animation, and dance lessons; spinning yoga and stretching classes, plus any for-purchase spa service you can imagine. I've already decided once D retires Dr. Mc is gonna get the gig giving the historical lectures for each port of call. The boat also had a lot to offer tweens and teenagers including age-appropriate, out of the way hang-out spaces (although no rock wall).<br />
<br />
BUT... for the elementary/preschool/toddler set, I don't think any other cruise line can top it. I know from my own research that Disney is the only major cruise line to offer anything for children under three who aren't potty trained. They call it Flounder's Reef nursery and,yes, you do pay extra for it (6 USD per hour) but the counselors are fabulous, and they're consistent so your child gets to know them over the course of the cruise. The play space is incredibly fun. Characters visit. They even managed to get my child to nap for them. B spent a lot of time at the nursery and the night before we disembarked they delivered him a scrapbook full of pictures they had taken of him and crafts he had made, even a handprint. (Our table mates had a nine month old and they too were way-impressed).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBZ31BPtQgVUVn79n0wEZAQGx0JjCmTlfDlsdJe2gZ8cO26xFY8eYFsMfr9lZBpYVBMPcwMiNYpFfPNGYw9NksQjpUVnCsQbUhzyWzpoVivowNQ1zat49F7f2ykEmqcN_z5dvaGYiy4g/s1600/DSC04633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBZ31BPtQgVUVn79n0wEZAQGx0JjCmTlfDlsdJe2gZ8cO26xFY8eYFsMfr9lZBpYVBMPcwMiNYpFfPNGYw9NksQjpUVnCsQbUhzyWzpoVivowNQ1zat49F7f2ykEmqcN_z5dvaGYiy4g/s320/DSC04633.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>For C, he spent his days (and his nights, or any waking moment we'd let him) in either "the lab" or "the club" --spaces specifically designed for 4-10 year olds. The club is more playground, game, open space centered. The lab has more organized activities or stations that kids can set themselves up at (lego station, art station, computer station, etc). Upon boarding C was given a armband, we were given a pager. When we checked him into the club/lab they scanned his armband. If he was ready to leave or if they needed us, they paged us. The kids can move back and forth between the two spaces simply by asking a counselor to take them. (Parents can grant older kids the right to check themselves in and out and kids younger than 4 can visit too as long as a parent stays with them). If your kid is there during meal time, they feed him. If your kid wants to rest, he stretches out on a bean bag. They keep a counselor stationed outside the bathroom door to make sure each exiting child has washed his/her hands. At the chek-in desk, the put a squirt of soap in each arriving kid's hand and send them immediately to the bathroom to wash up. Characters visit here too and the counselors engage with or leave the kid alone to whatever extent the kid needs. No child plays by himself if he doesn't want too. A shy child wants to play Jenga, there's a counselor. A techno-loving 5 year old (ahem, C) really wants to play the lego Star Wars game on the computer but doesn't know how, there's a counselor. A child only speaks German, there's a counselor. (The crew is remarkably international. Two of the club counselors were from German speaking countries. We ratted C out and told them to get C to play with the German kid 'cause he could understand him). Mornings in port the kid spaces openened early so that shore-going adults could get a jump start. Mornings at sea they didn't open till 9AM and C was always chomping at the bit to get there. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVX7SM77oaFeCQesgW7D4_cGo5jlaipDZkhuF-v_BRnACvtwCf578bjWaybdZfMUNmPExVoV8nzu1neWWos2RmLm0WM99LrVhLp8mSBysyxJEQRMY_pfEd9MtJereYDPccPAUqrzKT9pQ/s1600/2537173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVX7SM77oaFeCQesgW7D4_cGo5jlaipDZkhuF-v_BRnACvtwCf578bjWaybdZfMUNmPExVoV8nzu1neWWos2RmLm0WM99LrVhLp8mSBysyxJEQRMY_pfEd9MtJereYDPccPAUqrzKT9pQ/s320/2537173.jpg" /></a></div>C'll tell you he went to Norway and Sweden and Russia, but truth is, he never left the boat. Every day we'd tell him what we were gonna do and ask him if he wanted to come, but he never did. In his defense, however, he's already seen a gazillion castles, gone on a gazillion boat rides, rode a gamillion trains, but..... the Oceaneer Club and the Oceaneer Lab, Mickey, Minnie, and Pluto, that's not something he gets to see and do everyday. Some of the other moms and dads on board thought we were depriving him of the chance of a lifetime by leaving him on the boat, but as I told them: we've drug this child around Europe for the past 18 months, we will drag him around for the next 18 months, so why force the issue. If he never gets back to Scandinavia, then so be it. (And at least he has green-screened images of him in all the Scandinavian capitals from when if was 5 :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8gLPgatJxzevvCKWpXf0VI8XqBVmgD5JaCM4cCtW0CHWqJ3436QC2k8qejrCjnv0f2bHGiQzVex1nLU2irj7X0GoHRmoriGSg5JQFfDfUXAhZm-sn1cRmK5zhcmJh7ZUFlL_aREv_1k/s1600/DSC03866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8gLPgatJxzevvCKWpXf0VI8XqBVmgD5JaCM4cCtW0CHWqJ3436QC2k8qejrCjnv0f2bHGiQzVex1nLU2irj7X0GoHRmoriGSg5JQFfDfUXAhZm-sn1cRmK5zhcmJh7ZUFlL_aREv_1k/s200/DSC03866.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>In addition to the Club and the Lab, they had movies. C saw <i>UP</i> and <i>Oceans</i>. He saw <i>Toy Story 3</i> twice (once with mom and once with dad). D and I each saw the <i>Sorceror's Apprentice</i> (which has a great homage to<i> Fantasia</i>, btw). They had broadway-like live action performaces every evening and a slew of on deck activities -- sail away parties, beach parties, pirate parties. They had designated character meet and picture times, character breakfasts, and plenty of characters just roaming the ship. Let's see if I can remember them all. We met: Minnie, Mickey, Donald, Daisy, Pluto, Goofy, Peter Pan, Captain Hook, Mr. Snee, Pinocchio, Cinderella, Suzy (one of the mice in Cinderella), Belle, Beast, Tiara, Snow White, Dopey, Alice in Wonderland, the White Rabbit, the Queen of Hearts, Chip, Dale, Lilo, Stitch, Jesse, Woody, Captain Jack Sparrow. And we met various incarnations of some of the characters. For example, we saw formal Minnie, princess Minnie, Bavarian Minnie, pirate Minnie, Nautical Minnie, and the list goes on and on.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRM_F1fI-vdyKHWxggtsIyUKYFRZFJGO8VsLkoNrz3Zk_BUzlXiittCRgZ2EsyKMo1CJqSd3pUKsI0QopFieJ8WAG_9XkiN5N86lda1_YFv9EQBsJj8aJnGlYnXR6Ue0idM_ZJHY9xg08/s1600/DSC04535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRM_F1fI-vdyKHWxggtsIyUKYFRZFJGO8VsLkoNrz3Zk_BUzlXiittCRgZ2EsyKMo1CJqSd3pUKsI0QopFieJ8WAG_9XkiN5N86lda1_YFv9EQBsJj8aJnGlYnXR6Ue0idM_ZJHY9xg08/s200/DSC04535.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>The best part.... the lines for the characters are a fraction of the lines at the theme parks. When we took C to WDW this winter he didn't get to meet any characters or get their autographs b/c time was short and lines were long. On the boat he didn't have to choose between riding Big Thunder Mountain and meeting Goofy. And the same crew members evidently donned the same costumes day after day because Minnie (B's favorite) quickly learned he loved to play peek-a-boo. And Goofy remembered B was partial to chatting on the floor . C wore a Peter Pan style hat most of the trip but on the days he left it in the cabin, the characters would pat his head as if to ask, "where's your hat"? The handlers and the photographers quickly learned and remembered names, making it a little easier to not only keep the character queue moving, but get distracted kids to smile at the camera. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZcoyJ25uiPVdLKVTbsUNOic4LuEc2QpX1WxhlusmUqRaabsMjZ4s-6iA_9zirGq6KTzpzf8o8gKqrdBuhIBZIYRxkNCsWELhvcnU8ONwDu41z5yS18VewA9VBgrShSgEmhQFC82Tlas/s1600/DSC03862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZcoyJ25uiPVdLKVTbsUNOic4LuEc2QpX1WxhlusmUqRaabsMjZ4s-6iA_9zirGq6KTzpzf8o8gKqrdBuhIBZIYRxkNCsWELhvcnU8ONwDu41z5yS18VewA9VBgrShSgEmhQFC82Tlas/s200/DSC03862.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Cruises are synonymous with plentiful food, and the food was incredible with lots of variety. Each evening you and your tablemates as well as your servers were assigned to one of the three main dining areas: Lumieres, Parrot Cay, or Animators Palate. Your servers stayed the same throughout the cruise and moved with you has you moved through the three restaurants. Each evening's menu was different with a selection of appetizers, soups, salads, main courses, and desserts that you could combine in whatever way you wished. The kids could order off the kids menu or off the adults menu or I could pick out ingredients of the meals and ask for that (sweet potatoes from the beef plate, bowtie noodles, plain, from the pasta plate, watermelon from the fruit bowl, a banana for good measure). And, on the evenings that you didn't feel like being social, getting dressed, or eating at your assigned time, you could always go to the buffet restaurant on the top deck and help yourself to many of the same items on the evening's menu. At lunch time the same buffet was themed -- tex mex, British favourites, seafood, etc. Breakfast was also buffet with all your standard breakfast offerings (American, British, and European style breakfasts) or a table service brunch. Somehow I managed to not gain any weight --maybe it was the no-sugar-added desserts (which were the best I've ever had, btw)<br />
<br />
In addition to the main dining there was a fast-food snack bar with just average pizza, nuggets and burgers. The "healthy" snack bar was somewhat better with salads and deli sandwiches. But there was always self-serve pieces of fruit, cookies, and ice cream to be had as well as a 24hr drink station with milk, coffee, water, tea, and sodas. No juice in the self serve beverage station, but I simply got two extra juices each breakfast and stashed them in our cabin fridge. I did the same thing with milk cartons, so I didn't have to go from deck 5 to deck 9 every time a munchkin declared he wanted milk. Room service was available 24 hours a day and we frequently ordered room service breakfast so that D and I could get everyone fed, watered, and dropped off at their respective kid spaces in a timely manner.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEdHoWWMcrAoeyqV-STTcNh3zFZf8vfGZ0dLgUPUmA9uMquQbdyBv0_Cm0RL1i4-ek81LgeRyIAltsrqAiEuLedOifjGQiP82rEn3NV0GvaT4Vp4or23ZVcXsYUtk7Kly4bHe7V-U7_MM/s1600/DSC04513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEdHoWWMcrAoeyqV-STTcNh3zFZf8vfGZ0dLgUPUmA9uMquQbdyBv0_Cm0RL1i4-ek81LgeRyIAltsrqAiEuLedOifjGQiP82rEn3NV0GvaT4Vp4or23ZVcXsYUtk7Kly4bHe7V-U7_MM/s320/DSC04513.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We were cruise newbies and we loved it, and I'm pretty sure it's the little Disney touches that made it so special, things that I'm not sure other cruise lines do: napkin animals or origami toys for the kids each evening, elaborate towell animals and sleepy chocolates each evening and all sorts of TLC for the little ones, all over the boat. We're already planning our next cruise and might space-A home for a visit next spring simply so we can cruise back to Europe with the Mouse.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-32691542260062945122010-08-08T11:21:00.002+02:002010-08-08T14:34:53.389+02:00partied like a rock star<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMHy0tUsxT12GfCoklI2_zJuAVzb5vWME_o-RT_EC0nS5y5Y_Ve9h3qktJ8s8N5eDzCBxNB1aZ7btqMJ2U6TcWSEtycd3aMFl0WivF2XStYNv9hTmRKtv0orSeVB9GrjSXl_pUMMvZu0/s1600/bikepic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMHy0tUsxT12GfCoklI2_zJuAVzb5vWME_o-RT_EC0nS5y5Y_Ve9h3qktJ8s8N5eDzCBxNB1aZ7btqMJ2U6TcWSEtycd3aMFl0WivF2XStYNv9hTmRKtv0orSeVB9GrjSXl_pUMMvZu0/s320/bikepic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>After a big weekend of sleepovers and birthday parties, he passed out on the way home. It's hard work being 5. Baby brother was tucked up next to him, awake, with the most patient, enduring look on his face. As if to say, "being slept on by big brother who outweighs me by at least 30 pounds is just part of the gig." Sometimes it's hard work being 2, too. (And it's hard work being thirty-something, 'cause one of us had to pull the two of them).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-52866484795346096742010-07-13T08:05:00.001+02:002010-07-13T09:06:50.120+02:00Dusseldorf<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiWVV1Zo2GIEooupbo8ghEfOhw_ShhM4O9KdWf1HvNLbHz0znFQJfAcWctZ379OQ1NYL_VVSxEghSLCB3KKxRGRa5B9ArXDDLSLVqPsSlRrjql8sThoonPVis1aXU5Hg3NOBSCv7komk/s1600/DSC03745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiWVV1Zo2GIEooupbo8ghEfOhw_ShhM4O9KdWf1HvNLbHz0znFQJfAcWctZ379OQ1NYL_VVSxEghSLCB3KKxRGRa5B9ArXDDLSLVqPsSlRrjql8sThoonPVis1aXU5Hg3NOBSCv7komk/s200/DSC03745.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Summer weekends: I try not to waste them sputtering around the house or at Schinnen, simply becuase there are some many cold/dreary days coming I feel some sort of pressure to make the most of the nice ones. Last weekend I was itching for an outing, but none of us had it in us for a long day. Enter: Dusseldorf. About 45 minutes by car, a smidge longer, but easy by train.<br />
<br />
We had been down to Dusseldorf one evening the first March we we here and were less than impressed. It was cold. It was Friday evening and on Friday evening old town turns into quite the bar/club scene with throngs of people and their typical European crowd-navigation technique, plus pushy maiter d's accosting you every 5 feet to come eat in their establishment. We just weren't feeling it. Despite an excellent Dim Sum rest. we've heard about in the area, have never been back. <br />
<br />
Like so many other European cities, Dusseldorf is simply not stroller friendly, but Sunday, all we wanted to do was be outside in the gorgeous weather, to walk, and to wander. Gorgeous weather meant outside cafes or an impromptu picnic, so we knew we wouldn't have to gear up to handle a super-cramped German eatery with the kiddos, AND there's a Dunkin Donuts in Dusseldorf, so off we went: to window shop while I drank coffee and the boys smeared donut goodness all over the stroller. We even took the <a href="http://www.joovy.com/pages/pd_cabooseultralight.php">JOOVY</a> stroller so we knew C could sit and play his video game and himself have a relaxing afternoon.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqn5UkeTPOLYD3ZuIB-I44XoSTJwht_oFp9x5MZZzi_b-xr3LuntefX3JzWOnSQ3fyTMxfez1ueLXBMLknpVZpIXbNmtb6Tu3tjhkOhu-iejy3nFi2Op9R0EONBkhZJCLW4bZisCnLGc/s1600/DSC03749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqn5UkeTPOLYD3ZuIB-I44XoSTJwht_oFp9x5MZZzi_b-xr3LuntefX3JzWOnSQ3fyTMxfez1ueLXBMLknpVZpIXbNmtb6Tu3tjhkOhu-iejy3nFi2Op9R0EONBkhZJCLW4bZisCnLGc/s200/DSC03749.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>We strolled the KO. Because I grew up in the land of the beautiful people, instead of gawking at the excess of it or wondering who in the world buys this stuff, I loved the familiar feel of it (not that I've seen a lot of fur displays in my time). We encountered not one, but three Dunkin Donuts with fabulous iced coffee, half price stale donuts for the boys, and a friendly cashier who figured out right off the bat we weren't his typical English-speaking tourists. "You came to Dusseldorf for the coffee?" I've done stranger things, I assured him. (For example: I've gone to Poland just to buy some coffee cups and next week I'm going to Canterbury for a book, but that's another story)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKIQUe1-JEC639WajfXs7j5iyr1f6HbSBSFK_yxafVYDNMW6SSbnYo2nJHbXHP01RyoGEzI6H-3WIJpfVxhWrguWRGrLCMD4Ph94dbdQCQz692gMtDkP7SjAFYEoz9d3I7McEaV2wo5c/s1600/DSC03759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKIQUe1-JEC639WajfXs7j5iyr1f6HbSBSFK_yxafVYDNMW6SSbnYo2nJHbXHP01RyoGEzI6H-3WIJpfVxhWrguWRGrLCMD4Ph94dbdQCQz692gMtDkP7SjAFYEoz9d3I7McEaV2wo5c/s200/DSC03759.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mWmr9TM_fnRBMWCAgJ7c6EVuVupEQBD6xtvFnnv67Jz569w390NB9_Bn29pK-lFfYZRToJQijYb978pNvqUwyYOZUmqPUHDngHuHQ5wsqEmgumNc001I9pCo8-bobxt8_M8ICT2b1rc/s1600/DSC03758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mWmr9TM_fnRBMWCAgJ7c6EVuVupEQBD6xtvFnnv67Jz569w390NB9_Bn29pK-lFfYZRToJQijYb978pNvqUwyYOZUmqPUHDngHuHQ5wsqEmgumNc001I9pCo8-bobxt8_M8ICT2b1rc/s200/DSC03758.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Speaking of books.... there was also a book fair going on. The riverfront street in the Old Town had been converted into a bibliophile's paradise. AND, b/c we're in Germany I only had to look for the boxes marked English Literatur. Didn't find any treasures to bring home, but had a great time looking. Who wouldn't want an East German cookbook? I love it when I happen upon cultural interpolations of the cold war era, artifacts that demonstrate a reunified Germany's struggle with its historical past, but really, I'm not sure (other than tourists?) who the intended audience might be for a DDR cookbook. I know American culture takes political correctness to an extreme, and although it's not quite the same, could you imagine walking into your local Barnes and Noble, perusing the bargain bin and finding an Apartheid cookbook, or a Jim Crow cookbook or a Triple K cookbook? Like anywhere else, each region of Germany has regionally specific cuisine, but to label said cuisine as DDR cooking seems like an interesting marketing choice.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvFbOWcunGbb-RIhdXthbmEwsXlRAHRPCVKfqcpn7XC1fYs8llzDgjEDqBMh2H2_O2sQc6Lg0UFObQBjxG0sYLSOGWNHSYujkZ7zIE7ZQOezZelVEJ3U_EhhgcKVs3g21vrrksvwRlLU/s1600/DSC03753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvFbOWcunGbb-RIhdXthbmEwsXlRAHRPCVKfqcpn7XC1fYs8llzDgjEDqBMh2H2_O2sQc6Lg0UFObQBjxG0sYLSOGWNHSYujkZ7zIE7ZQOezZelVEJ3U_EhhgcKVs3g21vrrksvwRlLU/s200/DSC03753.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Old Town itself has some lovely restored seventeenth-century townhomes and a couple of brewpubs serving a local brew and a ceramics museum I might go down and check out one wintry day. All in all it was a pleasant diversion. Don't come to Germany to go to Dusseldorf. If you're short on time don't even schedule an overnight here. If you're having visitors take them to Maastricht or Monschau or Aachen or Satzvey first, but don't discount Dusseldorf alltogether.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-68898018008591838512010-07-11T14:59:00.023+02:002011-01-21T10:17:09.872+01:00World Cup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnPAIqDRRuLa4LMWeVp6OkbtrIdwNus20t4VhxFJ52Fxc02FQkbG7hjb_6xLxQQnDCpJwhpHr34_79YYtJN1iNucze4AISk2gY7FQ2pJkya6D1wfwaC8WVSA4yb8axBQzPxqn2SGz87R0/s1600/Picture+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnPAIqDRRuLa4LMWeVp6OkbtrIdwNus20t4VhxFJ52Fxc02FQkbG7hjb_6xLxQQnDCpJwhpHr34_79YYtJN1iNucze4AISk2gY7FQ2pJkya6D1wfwaC8WVSA4yb8axBQzPxqn2SGz87R0/s200/Picture+001.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Last Night Germany beat Uruguay to claim third place. Tonight, the Netherlands takes on Spain. Despite the fact that even at the tournament's outset many predicted it was Spain's year, despite a local <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2010/jul/09/psychic-octopus-paul-picks-spain">Octopus</a> with a flawless record picking Spain to win (yes, you read that right, an honest-to-goodness Octopus--only in Germany), we will be rooting for the Netherlands. <br />
<br />
We love the Netherlands. We love the Dutch people - they're generous and crazy and zany and traditional all rolled up in one. Most of our favorite local hangouts are on the Dutch side, some of our favorite day trips are further into the Netherlands. We want this one for them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtEXthv2pWrj_lNQVDzc-EVGBNnHUX9LBp8lYSrpAIdjPdVk3bxwE-nwoyWEParus1_ymzZHpo7VKDOYN5pilA0GVXe_Nv6mx6SHd2cl4arOY7Rb4kAWElIuexOuoLxviukOvgxbuulBg/s1600/Picture+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtEXthv2pWrj_lNQVDzc-EVGBNnHUX9LBp8lYSrpAIdjPdVk3bxwE-nwoyWEParus1_ymzZHpo7VKDOYN5pilA0GVXe_Nv6mx6SHd2cl4arOY7Rb4kAWElIuexOuoLxviukOvgxbuulBg/s200/Picture+002.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Yet, we also wanted it for Germany. For the quarterfinal game last week, we dressed up in yellow, red, and black, grabbed our German flags and headed to the Heinsberg main square to watch the game on the jumbotron. We stood in the back to keep the kids out of the craziest of the mayhem. By and large the crowd was well-behaved and when they noticed we had little ones did their best not to dance over them or spill beer on them. EXCEPT..... by the time the game ended, Germany was up 4-0. With each goal the crowd got larger. With each goal the crowd got rowdier. Everytime Germany scored a goal, the crowd celebrated by instantly tossing whatever beer/beverage they had in their hands into the air. In the beginning of the game, no problem, but remember how I said with each goal the crowd got larger, the crowd got rowdier ....yeah. We had to put C in the stroller under the canopy to keep him from freaking out from the spontaneous and seemingly random "rain."<br />
<br />
After the game we stopped at the closest ice cream shop and watched the celebrating as an impromptu parade of decked-out fans and decorated cars erupted down main street. I just can NOT imagine what viewing parties in Aachen or Koln or larger cities must've been like, and I think, even though we love the Dutch, that we'll make it a point to stay home today.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-45163995519521128672010-07-10T21:50:00.002+02:002010-07-10T21:56:30.257+02:00bloggy back up<i>The PICS are up</i> (3 years late, but whatever)<br />
the theme today in my house might very well be procrastination. Actually, it not truly procrastination, just that it's too blasted hot to do anything other than sit in front of the fan. The kiddos won't let me focus enough to sit and read, so this was the next best thing......<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjElI41IR1PPw49fJ_1nWWlJLxNr-Oar1lEadPx-o6imx62ALT8q3FQ-uvJu7oAPEnV2rE9et0-3vBEukRGm34rIpLLlgmoFqbvSk7K2yZDGpND40WHGWvUvTB2ztywUc81erz5f11rW4Q/s1600/IMG_6892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjElI41IR1PPw49fJ_1nWWlJLxNr-Oar1lEadPx-o6imx62ALT8q3FQ-uvJu7oAPEnV2rE9et0-3vBEukRGm34rIpLLlgmoFqbvSk7K2yZDGpND40WHGWvUvTB2ztywUc81erz5f11rW4Q/s320/IMG_6892.JPG" /></a></div>If you've ever glanced at the blog archives on the right column, you'll notice it goes all the way back to 2007. But wait, we didn't move over here until the Fall of 2008?<br />
<br />
In the summer of 2007 as a graduation present to yours truly, D cashed in 3 weeks of leave, we deposited C with the grands, and armed with nothing more than a backpack each, German rail passes, a guidebook and a cell phone as an emergency contact number, we hopped a flight to the continent.<br />
<br />
The blog was born because we didn't have a cost effective way to check in with grandma on a regular basis and because I wanted someway to preserve our immediate memories. Although we hoped we'd get stationed over here,eventually--you never can tell with bees--and who knew when/if we'd ever get back. At the time I was teaching an on-line class, so we had to find a computer cafe every other day for me to check in with my students, so it's not like it took that much extra energy to also blip a note to the blog to keep everyone back home up to date. HOWEVER, I had no easy way to add in pictures. BUT, I do now, so this afternoon I did . . . finally (btw, in the pic leading off this post D and I are in the Prague Royal Gardens and it is the *only* pic of the two of us together)<br />
<br />
Hard to believe now, after doing Europe with two kids in tow, that we traipsed around sans reservations (sans any real plans, for that matter). The thought : we'd leave home, fly into Germany and then head to Berlin, Prague and Vienna. The reality: we flew to England, via Spain, spent a week in East Anglia visiting Mildenhall, Ely, and Cambridge, plus a day in London. Then onto Berlin and Prague before we headed back to Germany to fly home.We spent 5 days in transit back and forth over the ocean waiting on flights, but since the price was right and the leave plentiful, we didn't mind waiting. We've seen a lot of Europe since we've been here, but still Prague and Berlin are two of my favs. (Mildenhall too was fortuitous 'cause there's a lot to love about East Anglia, but it's not like anyone ever plans a trip there).<br />
<br />
We tell ourselves, now, when we begin to fret that we won't have time enough to do it all while we're here, that before we blink the kids'll be in college, D'll be "retired" and we can space-A at will. Heck maybe we'll even be lucky enough to score a 2nd European assignment before then and this blog'll turn into the travel blog that never dies. Who knows?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-79513951681451884372010-06-28T11:24:00.029+02:002010-07-10T12:09:46.445+02:00birthday boyZERO, ONE, TWO!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpefPUoJ-qOWiHgeaIeuf6aoAQn4yCJY0IQHyvQNyvEIYEPYcd8rPjOrL2Q_q6nD3fh9cNbtjuxWSK1y05NDPTMy_9pnisDytHDQoqdQtZ3vaGFuvhO0h5QXtXgyKWu55AaQkWjoyhYCw/s1600/DSC00436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpefPUoJ-qOWiHgeaIeuf6aoAQn4yCJY0IQHyvQNyvEIYEPYcd8rPjOrL2Q_q6nD3fh9cNbtjuxWSK1y05NDPTMy_9pnisDytHDQoqdQtZ3vaGFuvhO0h5QXtXgyKWu55AaQkWjoyhYCw/s200/DSC00436.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoH4ZQypSi-7IYy6I4gc2tJuJ9evolBYTEZzNMHodLBoeWCDSRIMvlR_7IcR885sESI8gaa3OxirT98JuVcWt-M75EhmuJECqMCUBeJiBCVIpHqeHapkUD5WULSK0t_Y-6kwD0B6Oe8ZQ/s1600/DSC01665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoH4ZQypSi-7IYy6I4gc2tJuJ9evolBYTEZzNMHodLBoeWCDSRIMvlR_7IcR885sESI8gaa3OxirT98JuVcWt-M75EhmuJECqMCUBeJiBCVIpHqeHapkUD5WULSK0t_Y-6kwD0B6Oe8ZQ/s200/DSC01665.JPG" width="200" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvvG234zQFA02-oDuV1SZ9Y1Z3ZW9imJZLWkYj9tXmlqPFcLqyhMxo1FKvuSPczFSQYL5WG82XLLrQSzWSy-EFCAhy3IjlHluSva6SOl1CGTIASLqRSfKDUeKGsv9tbX03eWXyAFIOqI/s1600/DSC03708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvvG234zQFA02-oDuV1SZ9Y1Z3ZW9imJZLWkYj9tXmlqPFcLqyhMxo1FKvuSPczFSQYL5WG82XLLrQSzWSy-EFCAhy3IjlHluSva6SOl1CGTIASLqRSfKDUeKGsv9tbX03eWXyAFIOqI/s200/DSC03708.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<br />
as far as stat's go: he's now 28 pounds and 34 inches, puts him about in the middle of all other two year olds for height and weight. If you do the ol', double his height at two thing to predict is adult height, then that means he'll top out at 5'8.<br />
<br />
He's got the temperament of a stereotypical two year old: from 0 to royally ticked off in just under 2 seconds. He must do everything himself, except for when he doesn't want to. He knows how to look sheepish when he's supposed to and how to laugh on cue at big brother's antics. Playdoh, paint, and cars are his favorite pastimes. Blues Clues and Diego are his favorite videos. <br />
<br />
He never stops talking, does a running commentary of his daily activities. Last week when I went in to get him after his nap, he stopped fussing the instant I walked in the door, put this great big smile on his face and said to me, "I crying mama". Really kid, I didn't know. Something tells me he's already figured out how to work the system.<br />
<br />
<br />
He's a sweet boy, but definitely mischievous. Fortunately, big brother is a rule follower, so hopefully this time next year, when B finds C and tells him he thinks it would be fun to put all the LEGOS down the toilet, C will have the presence of mind to tell him to think again. Here's hoping!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-65901681553208069772010-06-20T17:00:00.010+02:002010-06-20T19:20:32.423+02:00BrusselsI call this series: Baby in Brussels.<br />
<br />
It was going to be "boys in Brussels", but big brother got a better offer, so B got some simulated only-child time. The buildings in the background are Brussel's Grand Place, which really might be the most impressive square we've seen in Europe, to date. For a better picture and some brief history of the square go <a href="http://www.trabel.com/brussel/brussels-grand_place.htm">here</a> or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Place">here</a>. It's a large enough square that B got to get out of the stroller and tromp around while D and I took turns chasing him and reading about the square's history.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XyiSY26ogDrq2J_3viH3y7f5QeY3jvicmGKblyquIu6RdMbfSluCETiFxnBg1fp0sUvr5YV97q8Mn38_D0F9VgDK0C4QuLTM9UL8e27w4cQsz1Uh_XzA7Cg3iq4T9stopHskM5ma77s/s1600/DSC03657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XyiSY26ogDrq2J_3viH3y7f5QeY3jvicmGKblyquIu6RdMbfSluCETiFxnBg1fp0sUvr5YV97q8Mn38_D0F9VgDK0C4QuLTM9UL8e27w4cQsz1Uh_XzA7Cg3iq4T9stopHskM5ma77s/s320/DSC03657.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpnmoEMncLGG5ue0LFG9VrGzlaSLyAO-HYZSyphTVSEfbSh_sB7_zoHMcYvgrGeM03ZaGMvw0xddFT3JJicaiRhXXzwr5gQhD9kofZA1o1kJB0Mx1Zzf8CS-IrDr5vkKQpAfT7aR2oaA/s1600/DSC03660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpnmoEMncLGG5ue0LFG9VrGzlaSLyAO-HYZSyphTVSEfbSh_sB7_zoHMcYvgrGeM03ZaGMvw0xddFT3JJicaiRhXXzwr5gQhD9kofZA1o1kJB0Mx1Zzf8CS-IrDr5vkKQpAfT7aR2oaA/s320/DSC03660.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92DCWAMGuxySnojJwVwvPMqnSu0-bGBDPRZaaqTeJK77sIF4SZGER0y3Q74jnmUnEUO2myYxqBSFLaiTl9P4rr6w5j0hNJjHsmjCphfinF5VMokaVFPs0gVTcnU6EgbI3L2UOi9dECYQ/s1600/DSC03666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92DCWAMGuxySnojJwVwvPMqnSu0-bGBDPRZaaqTeJK77sIF4SZGER0y3Q74jnmUnEUO2myYxqBSFLaiTl9P4rr6w5j0hNJjHsmjCphfinF5VMokaVFPs0gVTcnU6EgbI3L2UOi9dECYQ/s320/DSC03666.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO056UQHKQAycp7vQqL8A05pc9-Q-O_uZYbVTyNejIC9X1pqmUGjjsyOJT8_OLaScvA26T_7AzQixmw4-JoCZ235fDKGzMN4-5nzauwa44jYstpf-Zh8eTL4TuvZUe2_NVUrgElBH5k_o/s1600/DSC03667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO056UQHKQAycp7vQqL8A05pc9-Q-O_uZYbVTyNejIC9X1pqmUGjjsyOJT8_OLaScvA26T_7AzQixmw4-JoCZ235fDKGzMN4-5nzauwa44jYstpf-Zh8eTL4TuvZUe2_NVUrgElBH5k_o/s320/DSC03667.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAd24yEgd0l58qk20ChKjRZti0sV9O3s4B90sAlhmoLCZAIZ_JgPYiLXoyf2SND0XXhCT2oOIjEoO5X9dRl_zD2MxOTUhjcwXJaFim9IW4H62fe1IP-r537OM2Tz4eCCGggHR5cdhSHj4/s1600/DSC03674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAd24yEgd0l58qk20ChKjRZti0sV9O3s4B90sAlhmoLCZAIZ_JgPYiLXoyf2SND0XXhCT2oOIjEoO5X9dRl_zD2MxOTUhjcwXJaFim9IW4H62fe1IP-r537OM2Tz4eCCGggHR5cdhSHj4/s320/DSC03674.JPG" /></a></div><br />
this one was back in the car and he's holding a pilfered Mango Ice cream cone -- which was mama's, but he had to hold it so that I could carry him down the stairs into the parking garage and I never got it back. (after I had already bought him and he had already eaten a gooey, sticky belgian waffle, btw)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOrb_SHxG3A84wGMaOpQjTgbesHeyyjK00bIfS_AqcJz4JvNhvHZ195zOnSiQjI1Ehf0Q7smAl0MG1pTwI4cgDknt7Ch9b_03PpOYfIim24PME3Ey1_XwXr83UHxBsvmFrT6xuXN6KP_s/s1600/DSC03668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOrb_SHxG3A84wGMaOpQjTgbesHeyyjK00bIfS_AqcJz4JvNhvHZ195zOnSiQjI1Ehf0Q7smAl0MG1pTwI4cgDknt7Ch9b_03PpOYfIim24PME3Ey1_XwXr83UHxBsvmFrT6xuXN6KP_s/s320/DSC03668.JPG" /></a></div><br />
including this pic of the famous <a href="http://www.earthinpictures.com/world/belgium/brussels/manneken_pis_statue.html">Manneken Pis</a>, b/c I promise in the not too distant future it'll be my baby performing a similar action all over the squares and parks of Europe. Manneken Pis gets a new costume every once in a while. This weekend he was a Maltese Knight. Why? I'm not sure. If you're interested, <a href="http://www.brussel.be/4328">here's</a> his wardrobe schedule.<br />
<br />
ETA: We found out by skimming the news headlines this AM, that we missed the naked bike ride that took place in Brussels yesterday. (If you google world naked bike ride, you'll get a --ahem-- colorful link with pics of actual rides that explains the activism behind such a ride). Another cultural difference, indeed. However, it was mighty chilly and rainy yesterday. Maybe the ride was rescheduled. Will have to check on that.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-2105960053310160082010-06-19T09:10:00.015+02:002010-06-20T09:41:54.509+02:00Resistance is Futile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2vqEaSbUMToBFirs-NQjH-gFOqgRaH6ci8FuuSTqj6tRYSeFwov2N8NSft_Gwtj5hMqNtx-reJxs7VYSJnTc-0TVmr_uQwN047FwBnF_6XTH8X6Nl9OE69IlvE8TyL6Df5gIB1v8GcE/s1600/worldcup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2vqEaSbUMToBFirs-NQjH-gFOqgRaH6ci8FuuSTqj6tRYSeFwov2N8NSft_Gwtj5hMqNtx-reJxs7VYSJnTc-0TVmr_uQwN047FwBnF_6XTH8X6Nl9OE69IlvE8TyL6Df5gIB1v8GcE/s320/worldcup.jpg" /></a></div>While I imagine the world cup is barely a blip on anyone's radar 'cross the sea. Here, it defines everyday life. Since we're so close to the Netherlands, not only do we witness German World Cup celebrations, but Dutch ones as well, especially since the Orangemen are tearing it up: undefeated and currently leading their group. This weekend marks the end of the preliminary rounds with both Netherlands and Germany poised to move on to the elimination round. (FWIW --USA will likely move on too, assuming they hold it together against Algiers after a rigged call earlier this week).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8RXKQLmVajzlzczLMSpQYLSbj5jN-RWHTcyugCD04YprRDk1jLe9DVSRWpqvOhvUe6qjvI69SMUIcb13z35DYraIueBstvJ4x5ic-R8E47aS1pYSHlVIP4XsmeWNTfqikQ_GdEh-MPo/s1600/DSC03626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8RXKQLmVajzlzczLMSpQYLSbj5jN-RWHTcyugCD04YprRDk1jLe9DVSRWpqvOhvUe6qjvI69SMUIcb13z35DYraIueBstvJ4x5ic-R8E47aS1pYSHlVIP4XsmeWNTfqikQ_GdEh-MPo/s320/DSC03626.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Anyway, on Thursday I picked up C from Kindergarten and found him playing Goalie on the Fussball field. Those German kids know what's up. They know it makes sense to put the kid in the net who is nearly taller than the kid-sized goal. Besides which, having not grown up breathing Fussball, Colin doesn't understand the intricacies of the game as much as his playground compatriots (Soccer is serious business, even at 5) but he does understand not to let the ball past him and that when he's in the goal, he's allowed to use his hands. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipAz2tQNMZ-4owijpW84PQvNOYj31QOnun4hyMDmgED-TW3c_iZZA4kp47l3qTAcP2CgwxWjr4E_R-2lNbb-XXaI-3YeEgWr6olqLW2P38vT6NXEkz4-OIKf_yP1H3YFIwDhZTpHArKY8/s1600/DSC03627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipAz2tQNMZ-4owijpW84PQvNOYj31QOnun4hyMDmgED-TW3c_iZZA4kp47l3qTAcP2CgwxWjr4E_R-2lNbb-XXaI-3YeEgWr6olqLW2P38vT6NXEkz4-OIKf_yP1H3YFIwDhZTpHArKY8/s320/DSC03627.JPG" /></a>Then, on Friday I arrived to find all the teachers dressed up in patriotic soccer garb and the kids marching, singing, and chanting in the gym, waving homemade German flags, with faces painted with German colors. Coincidentally, on Friday B was dressed in red and white striped shirt with navy blue pants, and even though the USA really isn't a factor on the world soccer scene, I can only imagine the local population assumes we are as Soccer crazed as they are and I wonder if they think I dressed Brandt as a flag in order to represent. Hmmmmm?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5403514579516524693.post-30336044020635522592010-06-16T16:35:00.000+02:002010-06-16T16:35:00.746+02:00Mom's Morning Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyC1Ge3H5BX30gn51h-uAIkoJU2GTltUUrLCdYvKQ2CCFdB3gk5vGKFYizUHLQid4wAIfaGy63wC9TJSKTJnlVVfL5x_cJj_23_5UMQwbQKEy_VWO1ShyGe-NrqWHasSFwC6w_5VcAc3U/s1600/tong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyC1Ge3H5BX30gn51h-uAIkoJU2GTltUUrLCdYvKQ2CCFdB3gk5vGKFYizUHLQid4wAIfaGy63wC9TJSKTJnlVVfL5x_cJj_23_5UMQwbQKEy_VWO1ShyGe-NrqWHasSFwC6w_5VcAc3U/s320/tong.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>D recently spent two weeks in Italy. I figure, if he gets two weeks of sunshine, I at least get a morning out. So, I hired a sitter and a friend and I set off to Tongeren, Belgium. Tongeren is the site of the oldest Roman ruins in Belgium, but its other claim to fame is that each Sunday its streets fill with Antique vendors. <i>(If you're keeping track, Maastricht is the site of the oldest Roman ruins in the Netherlands and Trier the site of the oldest Roman ruins in Germany. IOW, the Roman empire was in full swing in these parts)</i> I had been to Tongeren twice before, once when we were still so new here we didn't know which end was up and the second time with the munchkins in tow. On both occasions the weather was less than desirable and I remember coming home feeling like it just wasn't worth it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-QBXM7IYs29pVGxbwImDQkzhBoTbQlsiVKoYDYk8DTRgVrH0IqYGwUUBuXw5rYZyeu_Jmrvc095zhlG5F9csOuk6h9ap2iasgIkcMgrmTq-0s_7PNuE-MKrsp3FOqtOjA9OxGIjCapw/s1600/tong1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-QBXM7IYs29pVGxbwImDQkzhBoTbQlsiVKoYDYk8DTRgVrH0IqYGwUUBuXw5rYZyeu_Jmrvc095zhlG5F9csOuk6h9ap2iasgIkcMgrmTq-0s_7PNuE-MKrsp3FOqtOjA9OxGIjCapw/s200/tong1.jpg" width="200" /></a>This trip, however, was great fun. Not only did I make a purchase (an old sled I'm envisioning stacking with packages come Christmas time), but we quite unexpectedly happened upon Tongeren's Corpus Christi parade. Corpus Christi is a mostly Catholic holiday that celebrates the Eucharist. In this region of Germany it is a national holiday and most towns have somber parades celebrating the occassion. In the picture with the somewhat papal figure, he's reverently carrying a box, which I can only assume is the Eucharistic Host.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0