FRIENDLY HELPFUL PEOPLE

I try to blend into my surroundings and not scream tourist when traveling. Occasionally I miss the mark, like the time I was sitting in the stalls at a London theater dressed in a red and white stripped blouse under a red sweater vest. Believe me, I was easy to spot from anywhere in the theater among all the dark colored, drab-dressed Londoners. By the way, the stalls are the main part of the theater, what we would call the orchestra. I normally wear a lot of red, cranberry, and maroon so I have a travel wardrobe of more muted sedate colors for visiting the continent.

I must have a friendly-looking face as I’ve run into the nicest most pleasant people all over the world. In Vienna, Jan and I left our hotel heading for Stephenplatz and hadn’t gone more than a block when a car pulled over to the curb to ask directions. Although we had been in the city only a day and a half, Jan knew what the woman was talking about and actually was able to give her directions. What are the odds of a stranger in town knowing the answer for another stranger in town?

Late in the afternoon of our first day in Quebec City we were walking back down to our hotel when I spotted a couple on the street corner looking a bit lost. We stopped and I asked, “Can we help you find something?” Jan started to laugh saying, “Lee we’ve only been here a few hours. What do you think you can tell them?”
“I know, but we know where a few things are,” I answered.
The couple turned out to be waiting for friends. It was their 4-5 trip to the city for those native Canadians. We chit chatted for a few minutes on the street corner when suddenly the fellow asked, “Where are you eating this evening?"
“We don’t know,” we answered in unison.
He instructed, “If you follow this street to the end you’ll find Portofino Bistro and you’ll have the best Italian food ever.”
We thanked him and continued on our way. We did indeed find the restaurant that was located in a house dating back to 1760. We enjoyed the warm friendly atmosphere and the gracious friendly people. But most of all we enjoyed the superb lasagna. It was certainly a good choice, and one we would have bypassed if we had not spoken to that couple.

In Dublin, we were on our way back to the hotel after a long day of sightseeing when a middle-aged man stopped up on the street saying, “Excuse me. Can you tell me what is behind that fence across the street?”
Again, we knew the answer. “It’s Trinity College”
Then we got to talking. He was a country minister in town while his wife attended some seminar. We talked for 15 minutes or so when he finally asked if we’d like to join him for a drink at some pub. It was a tempting offer as he was an interesting man, but it was the end of a very long day and we were both tired. Anxious to get our shoes off and to relax we declined his invitation.

In city after city when people saw us looking at a map or puzzled at some street corner, they would ask if they could help us find something. We always found their advice and information helpful. I guess we must have looked enough like Americans as we were always spoken to in English.
In Auckland late one afternoon we hopped on a bus to go back to the stop near the hotel where we’d boarded the bus hours earlier. The friendly bus driver got talking to the four of us. Instead of dropping us off at our stop he drove us to the hotel's front door. Maybe we looked tired, but we sure appreciated his kindness and consideration. What a nice thing to do!

MY FIRST BIKE TRIP

SHE KEEPS GOING AND GOING

While in Belize, one of the gals talked about her bike trip through France’s Loire Valley. Her enthusiasm lit a fire in my belly, although I was looking for another destination. The first thing I did when I arrived home, even before unpacking, was to grab my Elderhostel catalog and look up the bike trips.

I could hardly contain myself when I spied the trip from Munich to Vienna. What a wonderful trip that would be biking along the Danube River! I wasted no time in booking the trip for the following June. I already had a trip to Kenya booked for the fall, so I’d just have to wait for the bike trip.

I have biked all of my adulthood, but when we built a home in Texas our immediate road was a dirt one. To get to it meant a ride over a narrow winding country road which was a hazard to walk, much less to bike.

So my bike sat under a tree for a couple of years before I could finally give it away. It had been 15 years since I’d ridden my bike, but that didn’t phase me a bit. I returned home from a trip to the Sea of Cortez with Kelly to learn I had an offer on my house waiting for me---I hadn’t officially listed the house, although I had contracted to buy one in the city.

Suddenly I had six weeks to move from a house and yard (acreage actually) that had become too big for me and to take care of all that moving entails. I bought a 3-speed (my first) bike with the intention of riding it each day around my new neighborhood after taking a car load of stuff from the old house to the new. Bet you can guess how that went in the Texas summer heat! I did manage to get a total of 10 miles in on the bike before leaving.

The literature said we would be biking 40-45 miles a day. In my naivety I rationalized I was walking 3 ½ miles an hour so I could surly bike twice that. Seven times six hours made 42. It would be a piece of cake. WRONG! I knew nothing about gel seats, sheep skin covers, or biking shorts never mind male and female ones. I found myself in a group of avid bikers who belonged to bike groups. However, they were very nice and most helpful in educating me in all of the above plus saddle sores. Oh, yeah I had those too!

My children thought I had absolutely lost my mind when they learned what I was about to do. When my daughter left me off at the airport she couldn’t believe that I was actually excited about this new adventure.

This remains one of my favorite trips. It was a photo op around every bend in the bike path. My pictures are proof of how overcast the weather was the whole two weeks. We were in and out of rain gear at least 2-3 times each day, but nothing could dampen my enthusiasm. The biking was pretty easy but 40-45 miles a day on a bike is a lot for one not used to it. I had no idea we would stop for mid morning coffee, a break in the afternoon and in between make multi stops to sightsee and visit various landmarks. I learned so much on this trip. Of course the stops extended the days so it was a full day on the bikes.

A rainy year had put the Danube over its banks in some places so we had to detour to narrow country roads. I learned European bike paths are well kept, well used and that drivers are friendly and considerate of bikers. Of course most everyone rides a bike, so drivers know what it is like to have to cope with traffic.

Our small hotels were a delight. The food was wonderful. I was given the title of pink bunny, as I was always the last one in on each section of the day the entire trip, even though I just kept going and going! It was a wonderful experience and it was a fabulous experience to meet the local people. Would I do it again? You bet! In fact this was the first of three European bike trips I’ve done. Both hiking and biking are wonderful ways to see the countryside, visit a place and to interface with its people.