We came back to the States at the end of October and did that routine stuff older folks have to do including annual physical and dental appointments.  We were ahead of schedule as we finished up and found ourselves in the very odd place of “unplanned time:” Here we were in Minnesota with three days before we were to meet up with friends in Chicago. Very strange conundrum. It’s not like we had a home to go to…what should we do with these extra days? We  decided to head to Kenosha, Wisconsin, the place we lived right out of college so many years ago. Kenosha, on the shore of Lake Michigan.

 

It was directly on the way to Chicago and we had hotel reward points to take care of our lodging. Decision made; we were on our way. What a great choice it was! We toured old haunts, checked out our first home, the schools where we first taught! But the highlight was meeting up with our very best friends from “back in the day” and you know they’re good friends when more than 30 years later you can begin to catch up right where you left off.

Chicago might be my very favorite city…well, at least right up there with San Francisco and Paris!  We have good friends in Big Rapids and we were suffering from “friend withdrawal” so in September we convinced them to meet up with us in Chicago for a week in November.  For a whole week we just played!  We found the Chicago History Museum that somehow we had missed on all our previous treks to Chicago and from there we wandered through the domed structures of the Lincoln Park Conservatory. It had been years since we’d been to the Museum of Science and Industry.

 

The Mirror Maze is a newer permanent exhibit. Unbelievable! I read later that there is a small hidden room inside the maze; we never found it! We saw a fabulous play, Ride the Cyclone, at the Shakespeare Theatre on Navy Pier.

 

I don’t think the theatre seated more than a couple of hundred people which give a very intimate feel to the play! We got tickets for a game show at Second City (where the host said at one point talking about a song from the 80’s, “This is a song your parents would know.” Obviously the crowd was significantly younger than we!) And we ate at the most amazing restaurants! We found a Blues Bar in a rather seedy part of the city…thank heavens for Uber (whose business probably saw a significant drop when we left)! We played euchre game after euchre game, laughed a lot, drank a lot and just enjoyed ourselves! And the weather??? It was far more like early fall than the second week in November!

Later in November we spent a lovely two weeks in Seattle

 

visiting my sister and then headed back to a family Christmas in Michigan.

 

What a fabulous time we had catching up with family and friends.  And what a thoughtful daughter-in-law and son for having us, actually encouraging us, to stay with them for a month!  On January 1 we headed back out on the road, dropping our daughter off at the airport to fly home to Rome while we continued on to DC.

As we begin the second year of our adventure this seems a good time to reflect on the year just passed and decide what adjustments we want to make in the year ahead.  I think one of the biggies for me is the realization that we don’t need as much stuff as we thought we did. I feel like every month we pare down what we need. (Maybe that too is because I get tired of lugging too much stuff around.) While the places where we’ve stayed have all varied a bit, they’ve generally had well-stocked kitchens with all the necessities we’ve needed and if there were something we truly felt we couldn’t do without, we’ve always found a nearby store where we could make the purchase. Those moments have been few and far between. And while we get a bit tired of wearing the same clothes, we realize that because we don’t see the same people all the time we can get along with a few favorite and comfortable outfits…however, it was fabulous to get to our son’s house in DC last October and trade many old things with items we had stored there. We have decided that staying longer in fewer places helps us feel more integrated into the community. In 2016 we’re generally booking places a month at a time…and perhaps we’ll even lengthen that next year to longer periods.  If we spend too short a time in a place,  I spend too much time planning ahead instead of enjoying our stay!

We’ve been in DC for ten days and because we know it a bit better having spent five months in the area last year, it’s been easier to get around. This time though we’re staying in the city, in the Columbia Heights area.

There are times I’m uneasy walking, particularly at night, because I’m not used to city living but I also like how you get to know a neighborhood on foot instead of traveling by car in the suburbs. Perhaps this is also the reason we liked Europe so much, we traveled by car between locations but generally used public transportation and walking once we arrived at our temporary homes. Here in DC we’ve found two local bars where we play trivia with our youngest son, who lives nearby.  At the bar last night, I really felt like we were in a neighborhood pub. When we went to leave, the bartender called out, “Good night, Michigan!”  To which a local on the bar stool said to my husband, “Michigan?  I call you Chicago.” (Bob has a Chicago Cubs as well as a Chicago Bears shirt he frequently wears!) We recognized another fellow whom we had met last week and who introduced us to his friend.

I also realize that in many of the things we’re doing in the US there isn’t a wide range of ages.  Both the Marine Band concerts that we’ve attended have been a pretty gray-haired crowd (though last week’s Sousa Concert was considerably younger than the group at the concert we attended last winter. Perhaps that’s because this one was on a college campus.) On the other hand we’re at least 20 years older than anyone at the trivia games. Not sure why that is either…maybe because we’re living in a younger crowd neighborhood. We haven’t noticed this in Europe. And I’m not sure why the difference. Maybe we make more “touristy” choices in Europe (i.e. art museums, Octoberfest, landmarks). We’ll watch more carefully this coming year and see what conclusions we can draw.

Both Bob and I agree: one great positive of all of our traveling is how very friendly people have been wherever we’ve gone. When I inquired about a tee shirt in a shop in Germany, the clerk told me that the one in the window was the only one she had; she then proceeded to crawl into the window and remove the shirt from the display. And she didn’t stop there. I kept on looking at it, wondering about the size. “Is your sister about my size?” she inquired. When I responded she was, the clerk then went and tried on the tee so I could see how it looked on her. In the end, I purchased it and it fit my sister perfectly!  We loved the sidewalk cafes that were found in every European town where people sat outside chatting and generally just enjoying each other’s company…even when the temperatures required a coat and scarf!   Again really friendly places.

Even knowing its relative size before going abroad, we were also amazed at how small Europe is. It’s like traveling from state to state in the US except in Europe you change languages. And even with the obscenely high cost of petro (often about $1.50 a liter or about $5.00 – $6.00 a gallon) when you drive short distances, with smaller gas tanks, the price doesn’t hit you quite the same as when we’re driving our mini-van and filling up 18 gallons at a time.

Another thing we really liked in Europe were all the bells.  Everywhere we stayed we could hear bells.  They even bell their cows!  We definitely miss that sound in the US. And while we’re not religious, we also found that every town has a special church to see always with a detailed history. Growing up in a country that is so young, I never get used to  Europeans talking routinely about events of the 1400s or earlier with such a nonchalent attitude.

I’ve made reservations for the next six months. We  learned that if we book further out, it takes some of the flexibility out of our plans, but it is significantly cheaper.  We’ll spend February on Amelia Island Florida. We had never heard of it before we started researching warm places to spend February but then found it on a list of 10 islands everyone needs to see (with no passport necessary). March we’re spending in Lagos Portugal. This is in the Algarve area. We’ve never been to Portugal and while this area is really mobbed by tourists in the summer, we’re hoping that in March it’ll be quieter. April we’re headed to northern Spain, Zarautz Spain will be our base for seeing the area. Then in May we’ll be living in Lanzarote in the Canary Islands. (Perhaps two months in Spanish speaking countries will allow me to become more fluent in my Spanish, then again…) June and July we’ll be spending in the UK. And that’s as far as we’ve planned.

But enough time on this blog…tonight we have tickets for The Capitol Steps downtown…I’m wondering what the age range of this group will be!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So much has happened since I last blogged in October! When I left off we had just been to Octoberfest in Munich. Loving the scenic drive we had travelling east on the German Alpine Highway, the Alpenstrasse, we decided to take it westward to Fussen so we could visit Neuschwanstein Castle.

Also known as King Ludwig’s castle, this is the one that Disney used as a model. The woman at the tourist information office had told us it was about a 3-4 hour drive through small villages but we should probably plan on spending a night in Fussen. No problem. I’m not sure how she calculated the time, but while the drive was indeed scenic taking us through fairybook villages and past Alpine lakes, the twists and turns in the highway resulted in a more than six hour drive to go basically 99 miles.

The castle and Fussen (the highest village in Bavaria) were spectacular but the drive on the Alpenstrasse…well let’s say, once was plenty. Needless to say, on the return trip we took the less romantic road and made it back to Prien in about two and a half hours.

A few days later we headed to Paris. Our tiny apartment was in a fabulous third arrondissement location. We only had a week there but our plan was to get an overview of the city and then come back in 2016 and stay for a month. Before we embarked on our adventure everyone we talked to who had been there told us we’d love Paris! And it is definitely at the top of my list! The people were wonderful, the food exceptional, the history…I could go on and on.  To make the visit even better, our daughter, Cary, flew in and spent a few days with us. We had hoped to visit the Louvre but when we checked on line we could only get tickets for a two o’clock admission and we figured a couple of hours was not going to be enough in this mammoth collection of the world’s greatest art. This was something to be saved for the spring! We went instead to the Musee D’Orsay.

Wow! Amazing display of impressionists. There was also a unique exhibit on the history of French prostitution. I’m quite certain there is no American art museum that would host the exhibit, but it certainly was interesting to say the least and definitely one of the most popular exhibits at the museum.

There were other traditional Parisian tourist sites Bob and I wanted to see. One Sunday we took a bus to see the Arc de Triomphe

and encountered a glitch where we were going to have to wait nearly an hour for the next bus. So with trusty map in hand we decided to walk instead. And while it was further than we anticipated, we were able to walk the entire length of the Champs Elysee which is an amazing place to “people watch.” One does wonder who actually shops in these high end stores! Cary also wanted to show me the a nearby market, Le Petit Rouge.  Unsure of its exact location, she stopped two business men to ask directions. While they spoke a little French, the men apologized saying they were Italian. Cary’s face lit up…”Italian? I live in Rome.” And the conversation quickly switched to Italian with specific directions understood and we were on our way!  Soon it was time for us to leave Paris, but feeling fortunate that we can return!

On the way home we had a two night stopover in Iceland. Iceland is unlike any other place I’ve ever visited.  Icelandair allows for a free stopover on trips between North America and Europe and it’s a great way to break up an otherwise really long flight. When we were there in 2009 it was July with temperatures in the 70s and the sun hid beneath the horizon for such a short time that it never got really dark.

This time I booked two nights at an Airbnb in Gardur, near the airport and about 20 minutes from the town of Keflavik and 40 minutes from Rejkavik, the nation’s capital. We wanted to get a glimpse of the northern lights and figured that away from the city lights, would be our best bet. The airport,

which was built by the US military during World War II and given to Iceland in 1947, had grown considerably since 2009 and we decided it probably was a good idea to get a bite to eat before taking a taxi out to our abode.  Bob went to get our checked bags while I found us a place to sit in the food court. I waited…and waited…and waited. No Bob!  Because we only had one cell phone between us, I decided to stay put. Still no Bob. I was beginning to worry, when over the loud speaker I heard, “Would Jane Hendrickson please come to baggage?”  I hurriedly grabbed our carry-ons as well as the electronic bag and hustled to the nearest stairway. (Those of you who know me know I NEVER do down escalators!) At the bottom there stood Bob waiting. It seems that, although there was no sign indicating it, the minute he went downstairs, he left the “secured” area and could not return. When he shared his conundrum with a British Airways staffer, she responded, “You do have a problem!” But offered no solution. He finally found someone at Icelandair who, although they don’t have a paging system, did manage to find a way to page me.  There was one quick food choice in the baggage area and then we were on our way.

Iceland has a very barren but beautiful look about it.

Gardur, the village where we were staying, has a population of about 1400. Our cab driver was charming, sharing folklore of the area as we drove.  He told us about caves on the northern part of the island that contained paths that led to Italy.  When he left us at our night’s stay, he gave Bob his telephone number so we could call him on Sunday for our return trip to the airport. The host for our Airbnb had emailed me that she and her husband had to travel to the west fjords for a funeral but that her mother-in-law, Ella, would be there and although she spoke very little English she was a very nice person. When we arrived Ella welcomed us with a Hello and a big smile.  And while her English was limited, we found as we continued to communicate the better we could understand each other. We had conversations about children, geography, television. It really was amazing! The weather turned out to be cloudy and rainy with no chance of northern lights that night.

The next morning, with Ella’s help, we figured out where the bus stop was and headed to Keflavik to wander and do a bit of shopping.

Our first chore was to figure out the ATM. The least amount for a withdrawal was 7,000 krona. Having no idea how much that was, we opted for it. (Turns out it was about $70, an American dollar is equal to about 128 Icelandic Krona.) Although there was a bus shelter where we could wait, it felt like a blustery January day with the wind whipping off the North Atlantic! We later heard that it was a strong front blowing from the North Pole! Sunday afternoon we called the same cabbie to take us back to the airport. It was like having an old friend meet us. He was just as gracious and interesting as he had been on the trip in.

Since leaving Iceland, we’ve spent a week in Washington DC staying with our son Stephen’s family and meeting our new grandson who was just 2 days old!  We also had the opportunity to visit the girls’ classrooms for Halloween parties–a chance grandparents from far away rarely have!

 

 

 

We then spent a week in Chicago and two weeks in Seattle before heading back to Michigan for the holidays, but I’ll hold those details for my next blog! The time continues to fly by and it’s hard to believe it’s been a year since we first embarked on our “Retirement on the Road.”

 

 

 

 

Each time we move it takes us about 45 minutes to settle in to our new dwelling. (This time our location was unique…small resort town with cows in neighbor’s front yards.)   Our routine usually involves unpacking our clothes, checking out the location and contents of the kitchen (which usually dictates what sorts of meals we cook), hook up our Chromecast, figure out the internet and log our phones, tablet and computer onto the wifi. We’ve pretty much got it down to a science.

Because we had a glitch with our phone (which we only use for a rare phone call and text messages) I had difficulty connecting with our landlord in Prien and we decided to go to the grocery store while we waited to get into our apartment. Grocery shopping in a foreign country can be an adventure. Using pictures on packaging as context clues and guessing at some words usually gets the job done, but we’ve had some interesting confusions from time-to-time. For instance figuring out bacon from prosciutto is hard. Another time I bought croissants for our egg salad sandwiches only to find out when I sliced them open the day after I purchased them that they had ham inside. Since they hadn’t been refrigerated, out they went! Better safe than sorry.

On our first full day in Prien we headed to the train station for information. Generally every tourist information place we’ve gone has someone who speaks fluent English. The train station was no exception. The clerk was very helpful showing us the schedule and which trains we wanted and where to get on and off. Munich is an easy destination from here. The train is about a 5 minute drive from our apartment and in one hour we are in the center of Munich. For 30€ the ticket is good for the two of us on all Bavarian transportation for 24 hours. Salzburg, on the other hand, is a different story. It’s the Bavarian terminus the other direction but the clerk told us we didn’t want to take it. I asked if we were better off to drive. No, she said, we didn’t want to drive. I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. Everything I had read said that it was an easy 45 minute train trip from Prien to Salzburg. Austria is part of the Schengen agreement, meaning borders are not controlled. I just didn’t get it. Then it struck me! Because of the huge emigration movement from Syria, people are trying to get to Germany because of their generosity in helping the refugees.  Thousands and thousands of refugees are streaming into Germany from Salzburg on a daily basis, packing trains and train stations. Cars and busses also transport thousands daily. Because of the overwhelming number of people coming for a better life, the Germans temporarily closed the border allowing only EU residents entry (putting into question the validity of the Schengen agreement). The result is an amazingly congested, slow moving crossing from Austria into Germany. Our trip to Salzburg will have to wait until another time!

We could still go to Berchtesgaden National Park in the most southeastern part of Bavaria, just across the border from Salzburg. We wanted to drive the Deutsche Alpenstrasse  and this seemed a good place to start. The German Alpine Road winds through lovely Bavarian villages, with spectacular views of the Chiemgau Alps around one curve, followed by breathtaking views of lakes, and meadows around the next.   I was mesmerized as I watched the cows on the mountainsides and listened to the tinkling of their bells!  I remember my mother telling how when she purchased a cow bell when she was in Bavaria in the early 1970’s, the gentleman selling it asked how big her cow was! Now that made sense!

Berchtesgaden is a National Park but also made infamous by Adolf Hitler.  “The Eagle’s Nest,” (so named by the American Military) was Hitler’s diplomatic house. It was presented to him by the National Socialist Party (NS) as a gift to commemorate his 50^th birthday. The brass shafted elevator’s original purpose was to transport Hitler to his mountain-top residence in comfort (although he rarely stayed there). After reading the information pamphlet, I really didn’t want to see it. I think it was the phrase, “the Eagle’s Nest is a unique historical building and monument to the NS period” that made realize I didn’t need to tour it. I could see it high atop the mountain from where I stood and that was enough. Bob agreed!

Instead we took an electric boat on Lake Konigssee (the King’s Lake) to St. Bartholoma Island. The focus of this island is the chapel of St. Bartholoma which dates to the 17^th century. Bavarian Kings have used it as their hunting castle. And until the beginning of the 19^th century it was the summerseat for the prince abbots of Berchtesgaden. As pretty as the island is, it was the boat trip that took our breath away. It’s about a 30 minute ride that’s steeped with history. In one place a small red cross marks the memorial of a boating accident in 1688.  The boat then passes Watzmann Mountain which represents King Watzmann, the second highest peak Queen Watzmann and the peaks in between represent their children. Legend has it that because the king was very cruel God turned the whole family to stone.  About a third of the way to the island we came to a Cliffside called Echowand, famous as the name suggests, for the echo of Konigssee. Here the boat captain stopped the boat, switched places with another driver, and the captain proceeded to the side of the enclosed boat, opened the windows and stepped up to the narrow edge of the boat and began to play his flugelhorn. If you listen closely you can hear the echo! http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IT2IRwb1-CA It’s said that in earlier times boat captains would shoot off hand canons and the shot would repeat 7 times! Heading back to Prien along the German Alpine Road we realized the views were equally beautiful, but very different, from our drive east that morning.  

Later in the week, we headed to Munich for a day at the Oktoberfest! The train was packed…at 10 o’clock in the morning. People in traditional dress, more than a few already enjoying a brew. The festival dates back to the marriage of King Ludwig to Princess Therese October 12, 1810. The citizens of Munich were invited to the celebration which was held in the fields in front of the city gates. The name of the field Theresien means Theresa’s meadow. Later it was shortened to Wiesn, now synonymous with Oktoberfest.   When we got off the train, we saw signs along the street indicating the way to Wiesn, but signage wasn’t needed, we just followed the crowd to the giant party.  Admission is free. More than 7,700,000 litres of beer are consumed during the 16 day festival. The festival brings in more than a billion euros to the city during this period!  There are 14 beer tents, each holding thousands of people.  We had read that spots would be reserved from 3 pm on but before that people generally find some place to sit. We headed to the Hoffbrau tent and found a place to sit down and enjoy a beer.  In spite of the crowds, the Germans have dealt with this giant party in their usual efficient way. A waitress was with us within a few minutes. At first we thought the prices were steep, but as we thought more about it we figured  a one litre beer cost 10.30€…that’s probably not any more expensive than a beer at a professional sporting event in the States. Oktoberfest is fun! There are oompah bands everywhere, people chugging beers to the cheers of the people around them.   There are  amusement rides, food stands, beer tents, kiosks selling all sorts of souvenirs. And people from all over the world mob the midway!

The days fly by quickly and we still have much to see in the area including Neuschwanstein Castle and historic Munich! As Rick Steve’s would say, we just have to “Keep on traveling!”

In a previous post I mentioned that Bob and I try to plan our locations in fairly close proximity to one another in an attempt to hold down transportation costs. When we were planning our current trek, Paris was a definite must for us and we built our other destinations around it. Because it is cheaper to lease a car in Paris and return it there, the City of Lights became our city of arrival and departure. As we were researching where we wanted to live and deciding what our “must sees” were, we realized Paris was within a couple days’ drive of Oktoberfest! This was a definite “Gotta Do” on my list! And Bob was accommodating! Looking through listings on Airbnb I came upon the little town (about 10,000) of Prien am Chiemsee located southeast of Munich near the Austrian border. Train service was available from the town into both Munich and Salzburg. (Figured we had to go check out Mozart’s Salzburg if we were this close!) Both the location and the apartment seemed perfect so we booked it.

During our last few days in Caen, we began to plan how to get to Prien. As we looked at our maps, (We find the autoroute numbers are really difficult to follow.) we discovered that by adding less than two hours to the three days we had allocated to drive from Caen to Prien that we could go by way of Koblenz, Germany and drive from there to Mainz along the Rhine. We had seen lots of pictures, read a lot about cruises down the Rhine and decided this was something that we wanted to see, spending the first night in Koblenz, and the second in Baden-Baden (in the Black Forest) then driving on the next day to Prien. We generally make hotel reservations the day before we travel. We do this because we don’t have data except where we have wifi. And we feel more comfortable having a specific destination to aim for. We also try to stay in small European hotels or pensions because they are both cheaper and we meet more interesting people than in the bigger hotels.

The first day was pretty typical of driving anywhere; European autoroutes, like limited access expressways everywhere, generally lack much in the way of scenery, but as we approached Germany we began to encounter more hills and half-timbered homes. The Scholz Hotel in Koblenz was a wonderful find! I’m relatively certain the woman who checked us in was Frau Scholz. She immediately began speaking English to me and told me she had a larger room for us (at no extra charge) than the less expensive one I had booked because she thought it would be nicer. I needed information about where to park and she inquired where we were presently. I told her Bob was in a “no parking” area in front of the hotel. “Show me,” she said and followed me out the hotel door. No, that was a great parking place. We were fine just where we were. And everything she told us was followed by a big smile. The larger room turned out to have a living room/dining room with a spectacular view of the countryside and a separate bedroom with two twin beds that could be pushed together making a kingsize bed. We went downstairs to the restaurant, where a gracious waitress translated everything on the menu. Bob had a schnitzel, while I had veal in a mushroom sauce. We both had salads. I had a beer; Bob had a cognac. And we both had coffee for dessert. We put dinner on our room tab.

When we checked out the next morning after a huge European breakfast buffet, (complete with breads, cheeses, scrambled eggs, hard boiled eggs, a variety of meats and sausages, herring, bacon, fruit juices, pastries, yogurt, cereal and of course wonderful coffee!) we were pleasantly surprised to find that the bill for our room and dinner the night before came to the total of 115€ (or $128). The breakfast buffet was included with the room, a fairly common practice in Europe.

It was a cool day filled with sunshine as we left Koblenz and headed for our drive along the Rhine. The route was a bit difficult to find. We stopped at a roadside park next to the river and asked a local which was the best way to go. He gave us directions and pointed out the castle right above us was one of the most important of the area. The drive was everything we had hoped for and more. Freight barges, and flat cruise ships passed periodically. On the hillsides, castle after castle appeared, many of which have been converted into hotels. Near the castles we could still see the remnants of stone fences that served to protect them during the medieval ages. Vineyards covered many of the hillsides.

Our GPS directed us to the address of our hotel in Baden-Baden, but unfortunately, there was no desk, no reception area there. Bob stayed with our stuff in the car (parked illegally) while I went in search of a solution. There was a card on the side of the building with an explanation and map but it was written in German. An older gentleman was walking down the narrow street next to the building, and when I asked if he spoke English, he shook his head but followed me to the card, read it, walked me to the bottom of the hill and then motioned in the direction of what I took to believe was one of the buildings on the map. After thanking him, I walked in the direction he had guided me, but still no luck. The area had lots of restaurants so I went into one of them, a particularly busy one, and inquired about the name of our hotel. The waiter said he didn’t speak English, but the owner did and he could help me in a minute. (I find it amazing even those who speak no English know enough words to do basic communications! I am so envious!) The owner appeared and I asked him about the hotel, “Ah yes, follow me.” He left his busy establishment, and walked me half a block to the corner and pointed to the cafe with the same name as the hotel. I walked into the café. Voila! it was where we were to register for our room. (Later that evening when I inquired of the hotel owner where I might be able to get wifi to communicate with our landlord in Prien, he first apologized for the poor wifi service, then logged onto a hotspot and handed me his iphone to use!)

It was about a 4 hour drive from Baden Baden to Prien the next day. Our four hour drives often turn into six because we stop so many times along the way to take photographs, get gas (I think our little Peugeot has about a 30 litre tank),or eat a picnic lunch…usually cheese, bread and fruit. We weren’t sure what to expect in Prien. I knew it was a resort city and I was a bit concerned that at the end of September it could be pretty quiet. Getting off the autoroute and driving the last 10 kilometers really had me concerned. There was a lot of road construction and the area was pretty desolate. But then we arrived in Prien!  It’s is a gorgeous city on the edge of the Chiemsee, a beautiful large lake. Herrenchiemsee, in the middle of the lake, is where King Ludwig II lived (after building Neuschwanstein and only living spending eleven nights there). We definitely are looking forward to the three weeks we are going to be here!

(I apologize in advance to all my FB friends who have already seen these pictures. I’ve had a difficult time finding internet to load my blog posts!)

One of the best parts of learning new places is meeting new people. I mentioned in my last post that Francoise is a friend we made while staying in Caen.  It never ceases to amaze us how people we meet, Francoise included, apologize for their English. Because others know English we are able to converse and learn about each other. After three years of college Spanish nearly a half century ago, I am able to make sense out of some of the French that I read; some also looks a lot like English, but when it comes to the spoken word both Bob and I are lost. (And how we celebrate when we pick out one or two words as we listen to the radio. ) Somehow what comes out of mouths sounds nothing like what we see in print! I often wonder how Europeans must feel when they come to the States where few people speak more than English…and many have a difficult time managing English. But I digress!

Francoise asked if we’d like to come to lunch and then we could “walk a bit in the fields.”  Of course we said yes. Her home is in a lovely little village not far from Caen but so very different from the city. Rural France has many little villages with narrow winding roads. Family farms are very much the norm and the result is amazing food!  Her home was a pleasant 20 minute drive from our apartment.

After inviting us to see her garden where she cultivates many plants and veggies including:  roses, dahlias, and nasturtiums (which are very tasty in salad), she suggested we eat out on her patio. This little lunch turned out to be a gourmet feast. She first served a plate of hors d’oeuvres which included salmon on cream cheese on crackers garnished with parsley, and an olive spread served on amazing French bread; in addition she served prunes wrapped with bacon. This course was followed by a Normandy specialty of a cod-like fish in a cream sauce served with a salad. Just as I was thinking what an amazing lunch this had been, Francoise jumped up to fix the main dish, also a Normandy specialty, veal in a mushroom sauce served with fresh potatoes.  For dessert she served homemade applesauce topped with homemade jam. Her lunch was complemented with two wines. We found so much to talk about: the local area, schools, the United States, of which she is very knowledgeable, and our travel plans. It was a delightful time.

Shortly after lunch she asked if we might like to take a ride in her car and see some of the local sights. One of our complaints with the GPS is that it’s hard to stay off the bigger auto routes without knowing exactly what cities we want to visit. Just to meander through the countryside is difficult. Not so when you have a local tour guide!

There was a light rain in the air but miraculously whenever we got out to walk, the rain stopped!  Near Francoise’s home, there is a small cemetery from World War II where both British and German soldiers are buried. What an adventure it was to find it. Francoise knew about where it was located. We drove down a two track and over hill and down dale in an attempt to find it. Finally when a young man approached from the other direction on his motorcycle, Francoise waved him down. Yes, he knew it. No, it wasn’t where we were. Just follow him. So we did and lo and behold within a few short minutes we were at this historic site in the middle of a cornfield. It felt sad…here was a cemetery of men who had sacrificed their lives now lying in the middle of “no where,” a place people wouldn’t come upon unless they knew about it. On the other hand, the loneliness of the location felt so very appropriate.

Francoise told us she wanted to show us an old church. Talk about understatement! After driving a short distance, she parked the car and got out walking sticks for all three of us. We followed her lead through the woods and hadn’t walked far from the car park when we saw a beautiful stone church in the distance. We continued walking down the path, crossed a footbridge over a small stream and came to St. Peter’s Church in Thaon dating from 1050. Absolute silence; it was as if time had stood still. Such a perfect place to think, to meditate, to dream.

We continued on to Fountaine Henry Castle. Little did I know when I asked the guard if I could walk in the gates to take a picture (Well, I didn’t really ask…it was more a matter of hand motions and nods of my head…) that the house had been in the same family for more than 800 years and family still lived there. (And yes, the guard nodded his permission for me to enter the gate to take a picture.)

It’s hard to believe so many people live in this area of France and go about their daily lives without giving much thought, if any, to all that has occurred near their homes  throughout history, history that dates back hundreds and hundreds even thousands of years. I feel so very lucky that we made a friend who offered to share it all with us on one fabulous afternoon! It was definitely an experience we will NEVER forget.

We’re now beginning our third week in France. Our apartment is in central Caen, in Normandy, about 6 miles from the English Channel.  Caen, a city of about 100,000 doesn’t have the medieval feel of most towns in France because the city was almost totally destroyed by the Allies during the Normandy Invasion.

But the Caen Memorial Museum is wonderful.

We spent several hours there getting an overview of the events that led up to World War II as well as the specifics of the Normandy Invasion. On a warm sunny day in September it’s difficult to imagine all the ships and men coming ashore on any of these beaches. But the cliffs of Omaha Beach were unbelievable.

As we looked out at the landscape, we understood why the Germans didn’t think anyone would attempt those steep climbs.

On a different day, we visited Utah Beach and on the way we stopped at St. Mere Eglise,

the town where the paratroopers descended from the sky. The light from the bombs made the paratroopers sitting ducks for the Germans. The local church has a depiction of Pvt. John Steele (portrayed by Red Buttons in The Longest Day) on the side of the church where he hung, pretending to be dead, for hours before he was rescued.

Besides World War II history in the area, the Abbaye aux Hommes in Caen dates from 1063 when it was founded by William the Conqueror who, after marrying his cousin Matilda, was trying to get in good with the Pope. (The Abby was also used as a place of refuge for the locals during World War II.) William the Conqueror is buried here…well, at least his thigh is! Seems they had some problems getting him into his tomb, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

There just so much to see and do in this area. We’ve been to Monet’s Garden in nearby Giverny.

We’ve visited Le Mont St. Michel, an absolutely breathtaking location.

Many have asked about our favorites.

I think my favorites include:

The slower pace.  Wherever we’ve been in the Netherlands, Belgium or France, people are enjoying their day. There are lots of outdoor cafes. Shops generally close between noon and two (or 1:30 and 3:00).  Even French schools take an hour to an hour and a half for lunch!

The friendly people. People are generally really outgoing. We have found Airbnb in Europe to be a very personal connection. In the Netherlands and Belgium, our hosts have made sure that we always feel welcome and cared for. France is no exception. Our landlord is out of town on business but connected us with his friend Francoise, a charming woman who showed us through our apartment and has been a good friend since…checking in with us and providing us with local maps. We returned from a day out to find a gift from her of fruit and homemade jam! She can offer a local perspective because she’s lived the history. When we first arrived, she explained to us that most of the buildings here, including the one we’re living in, were built during the reconstruction of the city in the 1950s and 1960s with Caen limestone. This is the same limestone that was used in the building of Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London.

Bob and I both got haircuts (Bob primarily a beard trim) last week.

The woman in the shop spoke little English…nothing beyond, “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” And we don’t speak French. We used our hands a lot, nodded, and laughed a lot. Both Bob and I left there feeling really good about our haircuts!

The markets. Every city seems to have a market and the quality is amazing!  Never have I tasted tomatoes as divine as these!  And the markets include fruits, vegetables, wine, cheese, olives, seafood, sausages. They are fabulous!

The bakeries.  Our daughter Cary was telling me that until recently there was actually a law on the books stating that in every town one bakery must always remain open. So even though August is the traditional time of vacations and many businesses close (back to that slower pace I mentioned), in every town one bakery must remain open. It dates back to the French Revolution when there was no bread and people starved. After tasting European bread I can understand how bread has remained the staple of their meals! Bakeries, patisseries, are generally on every block!  (Good thing we’re doing a lot of walking!)

So what do we miss?  Friends and family are a given. But beyond that, the lack of continuity of driving signs creates some frustrations. Labels on the pavement that say “bus lane” are helpful, but when arrows appear in the middle of the road, it takes some guessing to figure them out. I have learned to take pictures in large parking lots where there are little markings. Makes it much easier to find the car later.

We love that our car has a GPS but because it uses stored maps instead of the internet, problems arise when there are road changes. For instance on the autoroute, we took yesterday, we’re in the middle of rural France on a four lane divided highway and the GPS says, “In 10 meters turn left.”  That’s pretty easy to ignore. We just continued as we were going and all was well. But not all issues are so easily resolved. Returning to Gent from eastern Belgium we didn’t think we were ever going to get out of a small town in southern Belgium. We had been making good time when all of sudden the GPS put us into a circular puzzle. After 3 passes at the same route, we stopped at a food truck where we saw half dozen people, hoping one would speak English. No, they said, no one spoke English, but one gentleman saw my map and immediately took it. He began pointing to where we were and where we should go. The woman working in the food truck began speaking a little English, only to tell us that the roundabout we were supposed to use (and that we had already passed several times…) was NOT closed. We thanked them and went on our way. We finally just ignored the GPS, drove about 10 kilometers in no precise direction, turned the GPS back on and it guided us safely back home. Our new philosophy is, when in doubt, just turn it off, drive a few k and then turn the navigation system back on. It may not be the most efficient, but it works.

We’ve had surprisingly few glitches and lots of wonderful experiences. Tomorrow we’re off to visit more of the beautiful sites of this fabulously interesting area. Then next week we head to Germany and Octoberfest! Until next time, “Au revoir.”

It’s hard to believe we’ve been in Europe nearly a month. We loved our place in Utrecht. The apartment was perfect for us. Because space is at a premium here, the Europeans are very efficient in the way they organize their apartments. Both the Dutch and the Belgians are tall but the Dutch are incredibly so. I was amazed by the height of our kitchen cabinets and refrigerator in Utrecht.

I’m 5 foot 7 and there’s no way I could come close to reaching anything beyond the bottom shelf!  In our current apartment, the microwave is only accessible if I stand on my tiptoes and there’s a small cupboard above that which was open when we arrived. And it will be open when we leave because neither Bob nor I can reach it. Another way we’ve noticed the height is the fact that all the bicycle seats appear to be on the highest setting possible.

Narrow streets in older cities make it far easier for the visitor to maneuver on foot than by car. Both our place in Utrecht and now our apartment in Gent are conveniently located allowing us walk to most places. (And the exercise is definitely a good thing because we’re tempted by yummy treats everywhere we look!)

I’m not sure if it’s because of the large number of pedestrians, but the drivers stop immediately to allow you to cross in front of them. This takes a little getting used to as drivers appear to be flying down the street and then immediately brake, allowing you to cross. I still find myself, waiting, hesitating, not quite sure this particular driver is going to stop. (I understand I shouldn’t get used to this because it’s not the case in Italy.)

Because Belgium and the Netherlands are relatively small countries, I thought two weeks in each country would be an adequate stay. Instead we’re finding that probably a month would be better. After two weeks, we’re just learning the “lay of the land.” We’ve found our way to favorite areas of the city, visited the must see tourist sites, learned where a nearby grocery is located and learned a few words of the language. We need longer to absorb it all.

One major hassle that we didn’t have six years ago when we visited Europe was our credit card. We have one card that we use to withdraw cash for small items (and this card has no foreign transaction charges) and a credit card for larger purchases including meals, groceries, etc. European credit cards all have chips in them in addition to a pin, making the American cards with a magnetic strip pretty antiquated in many locations. (In addition the European card is much more secure.) American cards are moving to the chip by October 2015 but even then they’ll be chip and signature not chip and pin cards. This can be a real headache!

Both Bob and I love history! So of course, we had to visit Anne Frank’s House in Amsterdam (and yes, it was well worth the three hours we stood in line.) Then we spent a day last week traveling to the eastern part of Belgium where the Battle of the Bulge was fought. I have a hard time comprehending statistics. I know the Battle of the Bulge was the last major offensive on the part of the Germans in WWII. But when I read that there were 80,000 American casualties and 100,000 German casualties, the numbers seem huge beyond understanding. But when I stood at Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery and looked out at the row after row of crosses and stars marking the graves of individual soldiers, when we wandered through the cemetery reading their names and places they called home, the abstract became real.

Later in the week we drove to Ypres, Belgium, the city the Romans raided in the first century! (As an American who thinks anything before 1900 is old, this seems surreal!)

But we were there to learn more about World War I. There were 3 battles at Ypres during World War I. The first in 1914, the second in 1915, and the third, the most costly, in 1917 when the total casualties from all sides were more than half a million. The Old Cloth Museum (once one of the largest commercial buildings in the 1200s) is now the  In Flanders Field Museum.

The Menin Gate Memorial  to the Missing  is the major landmark in Ypres. Every evening since  1928 the Last Post is sounded at the gate at precisely 8 pm remembering the 54,896 British soldiers whose graves are unknown. The ceremony was prohibited by the German forces occupying the city during World War II but began again on September 6, 1944, the day that Ypres was liberated (in spite of the fact that heavy fighting was still going on in parts of the city.) The rainy night we were there a small crowd gathered to witness the moving event.

A long time ago I remember learning the poem, “In Flanders Field.” The Essex Farm Cemetery was the cemetery that many think inspired John McCrae’s poem. There are many British, (read that as British Empire including Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders, and others I’ve forgotten) German, French and a few American cemeteries in the area, but it was The Essex Farm Cemetery I wanted to see. It’s hard to imagine as we walked through the pastoral cemetery the horror the soldiers must have known a hundred years ago. But perhaps the greatest horror of all, is for those who survived. It would be a mere two decades before they would again, with their own children, be experiencing the same awful horrors. Whether soldier or civilian, there was no escaping the war for them.

It’s like walking through history!

My computer has been in for repair for the past few weeks and although smart phones and tablets are helpful in accessing sites, it’s very difficult for me to compose without a full size keyboard. Luckily my computer is back and life is much easier now.

We’re currently in southwest Florida. But before I get to our current happenings I want to share with you an interesting experience we had before leaving DC. After Patrick found a job in DC his next challenge was to find a place to live. Apartment hunting is a far cry from what it was nearly half a century ago when Bob and I were first married. But after talking with colleagues, reading listings on Craig’s list as well as other sites, Patrick came across a place in the city that seemed just right. So it was on Saturday May 10 that we packed his belongings in the mini-van and headed from Arlington into the city to help him get settled. Anyone who knows DC knows that Arlington into downtown DC is a relative short distance. But traffic makes it longer than it would be in most places and parking in DC is NEVER easy.

When we arrived at his new abode there was a short approach to a gated parking lot that while not exactly a parking place it would get the car off the street. Bob was to stay with the car in case someone wanted to get into the lot. Pat would lug in the heavy pieces and I’d follow with the collection of bags containing the rest of his belongings. Of course his place has a main locked door and then another lock on his door on the second floor. We trudged in with the first load, not bad. We continued with the second load. And then I noticed that his suitcase (one of the heavier items) was not in the car. When I got upstairs I asked him if he had carried it up. No, he responded, was I sure it wasn’t in the car. We tore down the steps and confirmed his suitcase was gone.

Now I have to add that while I was upstairs his dad and he discovered an actual parking spot about three places from where we had originally parked, so they quickly took the place leaving the suitcase on the sidewalk a few feet behind. In the short time that we had been unloading, the suitcase disappeared. We all started looking around and Patrick saw an older gentleman who had noticed our conundrum. He asked Pat if he were looking for a blue suitcase. Said that he had seen a guy in a white shirt open it and put it on the back of his bicycle and ridden off with it. He motioned to Pat the direction the guy had gone. Patrick immediately asked his dad if he had two twenties he could borrow. With cash in hand, Pat took off. (He sent me a text, saying he had a lead.)

Bob and I waited for about half an hour and finally, Patrick and another man walked by, and acknowledged us as they passed. We waited some more. Then about 10 minutes later, Patrick came back with bright blue suitcase in tow behind. Bob and I were amazed!

It seemed that Patrick had run in the direction that the man had suggested but realized he couldn’t just ask every man on a bike that he met along the way. But when he approached the Safeway, he saw a guy locking up his bike. Patrick asked him if he had found a suitcase. “Yes,” the guy responded, “is it yours?”

Pat said it was and that he would be glad to pay him to get it back. The guy seemed amenable to the idea but he had to do a bit of shopping first. Did Pat want to meet him back at his apartment? No, Pat said he’d shop with him. So they went through the store and by the time they left Patrick knew a lot about the store layout having found the pasta, peanut butter and beer.

They walked back to the man’s apartment (around the corner and down the street from where we had parked) and Patrick said they conversed along the way. When they reached the man’s apartment, Patrick stayed with the bike while the guy ran up to his apartment and got the suitcase. Patrick gave him one of the twenties and thanked him. When he got back to our car, Pat sought out the first gentleman who had given him the details that led him to his suitcase, thanked him and gave him the other twenty.

When the suitcase was first discovered missing, I never believed we’d see it again. It was gone. It’s a big city and there was no sign of it. I learned an important lesson from my son that day. You get a lot further by always treating people with dignity. Patrick was never accusatory. He asked if the man had found a suitcase, not if he had taken his suitcase. I’d like to say I would have responded the same way. But I doubt it. I would have let my frustration and anger take over. And I wouldn’t have had a clue how to begin solving the problem.

As Pat’s older brother later said, “The kid has street cred!”