A FUN HIGH TEA
Since I’d had an exquisite high tea fifteen years before in the crystal ballroom of the Empress Hotel in Victoria, British Columbia, I was not too excited to have high tea in the hotel’s lobby, the new venue. After considerable inquiry we elected to have our tea at the Point Ellice House.
Tea was served in the old carriage house. We sat at our table with linen tablecloth for nearly two hours enjoying finger sandwiches, sweets, scones and all the tea we wanted.
Our server told us, “During the 19th century this area was full of lovely Victorian homes where the gentry and well-to-do people lived. This Italianate cottage, built in 1861, was enlarged and landscaped between 1875-89. Peter O’Reilly was Irish and a government official. He and his family, including four children, moved into the house in 1867.
“The O’Reilly family occupied the home for 106 years. The family kept extensive records and never threw anything away. There are over 10,000 Victorian objects in the home.”
Mrs. O’Reilly apparently wrote a cookbook. Except for hot cocoa and candy or bon bons, chocolate did not exist in Victorian cooking. There was no such thing as brownies, chocolate chip cookies, or chocolate cake.
One daughter, Kathleen, was an accomplished artist and several of her paintings hung in the home. In 1975 the Provincial Government bought the property.
After tea before touring the house we were given ear phones and battery pac. A Chinese houseboy told the family’s story. Periodically he was interrupted by the English parlor maid with some tid bit of family information. What a creative and imaginative way to tell the story! It was dilightful.
The Victorian grounds were lovely but different than many we’d seen. It was a fun, interesting, and informative way to spend our last afternoon in Victoria, British Columbia.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
AN UNUSUAL AQUARIUM
WHAT A SURPRISE
In Auckland, New Zealand we took a city bus to Kelly Tarlton’s unusual aquarium.
The whole aquarium is underground housed in old sewage tanks, the same ones that used to collect and dump affluent in the harbor! Kelly was an imaginative thinker. He wanted to buy the storage tanks from the city, but the city would not sell them. Everyone thought Kelly was loco. Finally, after a time and negotiation, the city agreed to lease the tanks to Kelly for $1 a year. Kelly agreed but wanted a thousand year lease for his $1000.
Kelly designed, planned, and supervised all the building. Tons of junk had to be removed, carted off and extensive cleaning done before construction could even begin. The aquarium opened in 1985. We walked through the new Antarctica exhibit admiring the world's largest emperor penguins. They really are big. I just wanted to reach out and hug the adorable animals.
From that exhibit one can walk through the rest of the aquarium or step on a moving walkway. It was like being in a tunnel with fish all around and on top of you, really incredible! it was easy to imagine yourself in the water surrounded by fish and sea creatures--but no snorkel needed and you remained dry!
I had never seen the underside of a ray before. There were several species swimming over head. Big fish, small fish, all colors and shapes, swam up, over, and down. It was the most amazing thing and the first such exhibit I’d seen. Since that visit I have been in other ‘fish tunnels’ and it is always an exciting experience.
At the end of the moving walkway I told my friend, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go again. I just haven’t seen enough.” Three times around later we reluctantly exited. It’s a wonderful memory.
Kelly died at age 48 just a few weeks after the aquarium opened. He was New Zealand’s Jacques Cousteau and it is said that diving contributed to his premature death.
In Auckland, New Zealand we took a city bus to Kelly Tarlton’s unusual aquarium.
The whole aquarium is underground housed in old sewage tanks, the same ones that used to collect and dump affluent in the harbor! Kelly was an imaginative thinker. He wanted to buy the storage tanks from the city, but the city would not sell them. Everyone thought Kelly was loco. Finally, after a time and negotiation, the city agreed to lease the tanks to Kelly for $1 a year. Kelly agreed but wanted a thousand year lease for his $1000.
Kelly designed, planned, and supervised all the building. Tons of junk had to be removed, carted off and extensive cleaning done before construction could even begin. The aquarium opened in 1985. We walked through the new Antarctica exhibit admiring the world's largest emperor penguins. They really are big. I just wanted to reach out and hug the adorable animals.
From that exhibit one can walk through the rest of the aquarium or step on a moving walkway. It was like being in a tunnel with fish all around and on top of you, really incredible! it was easy to imagine yourself in the water surrounded by fish and sea creatures--but no snorkel needed and you remained dry!
I had never seen the underside of a ray before. There were several species swimming over head. Big fish, small fish, all colors and shapes, swam up, over, and down. It was the most amazing thing and the first such exhibit I’d seen. Since that visit I have been in other ‘fish tunnels’ and it is always an exciting experience.
At the end of the moving walkway I told my friend, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go again. I just haven’t seen enough.” Three times around later we reluctantly exited. It’s a wonderful memory.
Kelly died at age 48 just a few weeks after the aquarium opened. He was New Zealand’s Jacques Cousteau and it is said that diving contributed to his premature death.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
A ROMANTIC PICTURESQUE HOTEL
A Dream Fulfilled
I guess everyone dreams of staying in a picturesque romantic hotel sometime during their lifetime. My dream came true in Tahiti. Who would ever guess that we’d be arriving at a hotel at 4:45 AM! We were given a room and encouraged to take a short nap before a scheduled brunch at 10:30 in the Tiare (flower) room, just off the lobby.
At 7AM I was standing at the sliding glass door looking out over my little deck absorbing the incredible beauty outside. Beyond the yard was a walkway inside the seawall. Looking across, what I would learn later was Moon Bay, I could see the outline of Moorea, another of the three major Tahitian islands. The bay was but 100 yards away. About a mile out between the seawall and Moorea I could see the breakwater.
Full coconut palms and all kinds of tropical flowers and flowering bushes and trees awaited my investigation. The people, mostly hotel workers, walking about were speaking French. The little wooden deck outside my room was the perfect place to have coffee. But first on the agenda—after nearly 30 hours of traveling—was a hot shower and fresh clothes.
Thatched roof guest cabanas, perched on pilings over the bay, were only yards away. By brunch time I had walked the incredibly beautiful tropical grounds even stopping to sniff the wonderful aromas of familiar flowers. Unfortunately the stay in Tahiti was brief and by 5:00 PM we were aboard our small ship headed for Bora Bora.
I guess everyone dreams of staying in a picturesque romantic hotel sometime during their lifetime. My dream came true in Tahiti. Who would ever guess that we’d be arriving at a hotel at 4:45 AM! We were given a room and encouraged to take a short nap before a scheduled brunch at 10:30 in the Tiare (flower) room, just off the lobby.
My weary body found the weather hot, steamy, and humid and the fresh fruit drinks served on arrival did little to revive me. I managed to find my room by following the signs to out, over, up, and around. While I waited for my luggage to arrive I did lie down on the bed for an hour. I was sure sleep was elusive, but I opened the drapes just in case I dozed off. I wanted to wake with the daylight. I couldn’t wait to see what was outside.
At 7AM I was standing at the sliding glass door looking out over my little deck absorbing the incredible beauty outside. Beyond the yard was a walkway inside the seawall. Looking across, what I would learn later was Moon Bay, I could see the outline of Moorea, another of the three major Tahitian islands. The bay was but 100 yards away. About a mile out between the seawall and Moorea I could see the breakwater. Full coconut palms and all kinds of tropical flowers and flowering bushes and trees awaited my investigation. The people, mostly hotel workers, walking about were speaking French. The little wooden deck outside my room was the perfect place to have coffee. But first on the agenda—after nearly 30 hours of traveling—was a hot shower and fresh clothes.
Thatched roof guest cabanas, perched on pilings over the bay, were only yards away. By brunch time I had walked the incredibly beautiful tropical grounds even stopping to sniff the wonderful aromas of familiar flowers. Unfortunately the stay in Tahiti was brief and by 5:00 PM we were aboard our small ship headed for Bora Bora.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
A SCARY ARRIVAL
Arrival in Lima, Peru
It seems flights to South America always arrive in the evening. We followed the cautions in all the literature and secured a cab inside the airport. Taxis were readily available outside the fence but supposedly not reliable. Our driver was dressed in a suit and his cab was clear of dings, dents etc.
That fact was some comfort as we played chicken driving through the streets of Lima. It seemed no one paid heed to lights or stop signs. Just honk, step on the gas, brake, and repeat. I prayed for no fender bender, flat tire or any other mishap as we drove through areas where men collected under streetlights drinking and smoking.
I had money spread all over my body, but it was most disconcerting when we left town and hit a totally dark, two lane, paved, deserted road that appeared to follow a body of water. I was one happy camper when the lights of Miraflores,a Lima suberb and the location of our hotel, appeared.
The bars on the pharmacy across the street and the armed guards outside banks, which seemed to be on every corner, were less frightening in daylight. One could not enter the pharmacy. One stood outside and told the girl what you wanted. She brought it to you and you paid through the bars.
The next day after lunch, as my son and I were walking along the street, a young man with a backpack stopped us and asked if we were from Texas. He had good eyesight as he’d picked that up from the camera strap around my neck. He gave us some corking bull story and wanted money for bus fare. My son offered to let him use his calling card to make a phone call to his girl, but he refused that, wanting only money. In all my travels that is the only time I’ve ever been approached on the street for money. We walked on and left him to try to try to scam someone else.
It seems flights to South America always arrive in the evening. We followed the cautions in all the literature and secured a cab inside the airport. Taxis were readily available outside the fence but supposedly not reliable. Our driver was dressed in a suit and his cab was clear of dings, dents etc.
That fact was some comfort as we played chicken driving through the streets of Lima. It seemed no one paid heed to lights or stop signs. Just honk, step on the gas, brake, and repeat. I prayed for no fender bender, flat tire or any other mishap as we drove through areas where men collected under streetlights drinking and smoking.
I had money spread all over my body, but it was most disconcerting when we left town and hit a totally dark, two lane, paved, deserted road that appeared to follow a body of water. I was one happy camper when the lights of Miraflores,a Lima suberb and the location of our hotel, appeared.
The bars on the pharmacy across the street and the armed guards outside banks, which seemed to be on every corner, were less frightening in daylight. One could not enter the pharmacy. One stood outside and told the girl what you wanted. She brought it to you and you paid through the bars.
The next day after lunch, as my son and I were walking along the street, a young man with a backpack stopped us and asked if we were from Texas. He had good eyesight as he’d picked that up from the camera strap around my neck. He gave us some corking bull story and wanted money for bus fare. My son offered to let him use his calling card to make a phone call to his girl, but he refused that, wanting only money. In all my travels that is the only time I’ve ever been approached on the street for money. We walked on and left him to try to try to scam someone else.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
MOZART BALLS
The BEST candy
I first heard about Mozart balls from a fellow biker when peddling from Munich to Vienna. Her mantra was “I need to find Mozart balls for my daughter.” Little did I know then that I would search and buy those delectable little chocolate balls everywhere I went after that.
Any time I’ve heard of friends going to Vienna I've asked them to buy me Mozart balls ending the request with, “You can not buy too many!” On my last trip to Europe when I knew I’d be in Vienna I packed a self-addressed broken down carton in the bottom of my suitcase. I peeled off packing tape attaching it onto the slick side of all the address stickers I receive in the mail.
After my purchase of the goodies I opened several of the packages in order to get as many as possible into my box. I taped the package shut and when we arrived in Ljubljana, Slovenia I walked across the street from the hotel and mailed the package home. I still had nearly as many balls packed in my suitcase.
I first heard about Mozart balls from a fellow biker when peddling from Munich to Vienna. Her mantra was “I need to find Mozart balls for my daughter.” Little did I know then that I would search and buy those delectable little chocolate balls everywhere I went after that.
Any time I’ve heard of friends going to Vienna I've asked them to buy me Mozart balls ending the request with, “You can not buy too many!” On my last trip to Europe when I knew I’d be in Vienna I packed a self-addressed broken down carton in the bottom of my suitcase. I peeled off packing tape attaching it onto the slick side of all the address stickers I receive in the mail.
After my purchase of the goodies I opened several of the packages in order to get as many as possible into my box. I taped the package shut and when we arrived in Ljubljana, Slovenia I walked across the street from the hotel and mailed the package home. I still had nearly as many balls packed in my suitcase.
I was surprised when a local guide informed me that Mozart balls were available everywhere. Wrong! Knock-offs are readily available in many places, but the real Mirabel is made in Salzburg, Austria and is not found everywhere. I know the picture, but I always read the label anyway. I admit it is easy to be fooled. Both are good but nothing surpasses the real four layer chocolate ball!
The real thing is not exported far from its home. It’s rare to run on to them in a foreign airport, but I always enjoy the hunt and once in awhile am rewarded..
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
DIFFICULT TIME
A REALLY HARD JUMP
I took my son on my first trip to Costa Rica. One of the highlights of that trip was rafting down the Sarapiqui River. After navigating several class II and III rapids, we stopped at a shallow pull out point where we all climbed a small cliff. The point of this was to jump off the cliff into the river, then float while the current carried us back to the rafts.
Most any kid would relish this fun exercise, and before you could blink your eye he’d be gone and in the water. I was 65 at the time and am an old WSI who taught swimming and lifesaving for many years. The whole idea went against my whole being, of what I believed, and what I’d taught my children and many others over a lot of years.
I really had a hard time jumping off. I hesitated for some time while my son jumped twice and kept encouraging me to do the same. I had my glasses on under my helmet, and eventually I held my glasses and jumped. The water was rather cool, and once in the water it was easy to float in the gentle current.
My camera captured my son in mid air during one of his half-dozen jumps, but I called it good after my first and last jump. Something about old habits dying hard I guess!
I took my son on my first trip to Costa Rica. One of the highlights of that trip was rafting down the Sarapiqui River. After navigating several class II and III rapids, we stopped at a shallow pull out point where we all climbed a small cliff. The point of this was to jump off the cliff into the river, then float while the current carried us back to the rafts.
Most any kid would relish this fun exercise, and before you could blink your eye he’d be gone and in the water. I was 65 at the time and am an old WSI who taught swimming and lifesaving for many years. The whole idea went against my whole being, of what I believed, and what I’d taught my children and many others over a lot of years.
I really had a hard time jumping off. I hesitated for some time while my son jumped twice and kept encouraging me to do the same. I had my glasses on under my helmet, and eventually I held my glasses and jumped. The water was rather cool, and once in the water it was easy to float in the gentle current.
My camera captured my son in mid air during one of his half-dozen jumps, but I called it good after my first and last jump. Something about old habits dying hard I guess!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
UPSIDE DOWN FLOWERING TREES
Generally I don’t plan to blog about U S sites unless I come across something really unusual like I did on a recent trip to Juneau, Alaska. The Glacier Gardens did not exist when I made my first trip to Alaska twenty years before.
In 1985 a huge landslide in the Mendenhall Valley destroyed much of the Smith dairy farm. Ten years later nurseryman, Steve Bowhay, bought six and a half acres that bordered on the Tongass National Forest. While working to redirect a river stream to its original path, because of its diversion by the landslide years before, he caused some damage to the expensive piece of rental equipment he was using. Frustrated with the rock he was trying to move and at the expensive machine repair bill, he picked up a log with the machine and slammed it six or seven feet into the soft soil ---upside down.
Frustration subsiding a bit and being the creative man he is, Steve started to survey his newly planted 'tree'. By trimming the roots he formed a bowl which he lined with a very fine mesh. Then he filled his pot with peat moss, topping it off with some soil. Before long the plants he planted were flowering and cascading down the edge forming a gorgeous flowering upside down tree. Now many such trees are scattered in the gardens. The area gets plenty of rain so watering is not a problem.
The Glacier Gardens were so much more than I expected and one of the highlights of the trip.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
MORE FRIENDLY PEOPLE
In Glasgow we were looking for a post office that seemed to elude us.
We asked a fellow on the street where it was, but he was a stranger in town and was just doing some shopping while his wife had her hair done. He was sorry he couldn’t help us. We thanked him and continued on. A couple of minutes later we heard, “Ladies.”
When we turned around we faced the same fellow we had asked directions of. He explained while he was walking in the opposite direction that he remembered where the post office was and proceeded to give us directions. He had turned around and found us to relay that information. How nice was that! As it turned out we were only a block or so away. We entered, made our money exchange and then visited a large department store for a look-see.
Riding the escalator down an hour or so later, the young man standing behind us overheard us discussing finding a restaurant. As we stepped off, he called to us and proceeded to tell us where we could find an arcade of restaurants and recommended a couple he particularly liked. We took his advice and enjoyed a wonderful meal.
When biking in Germany, I was standing outside a bakery waiting for a companion to complete her purchase when an elderly man approached me asking, " Are you American."
After I said yes, he went on to tell me how during WW II he had been in a concentration camp in the United States. I can’t recall the state, but it was a surprise to me, as I was unaware we had a camp there. He apologized for his English. He told me he had been well treated. What a small world.
In Moscow we were looking for a grocery store to buy a gallon of bottled water. We would be in the city long enough to empty it by refilling our small drinking bottles. Unknowingly we turned back when only two blocks away from our destination. Back on the main street we asked directions of a fellow walking with his wife and small child. The wife ducked into a store with the child, but the fellow tried to tell us, but he spoke only Russian. Finally he decided to show us where to turn, so as he hustled down the street he kept up a constant stream of Russian chatter. Jan kept smiling and shaking her head like she knew what he was talking about. I followed smiling. It was a kind gesture on his part and we did find the store and made our purchase. His wife obviously was more skepital of strangers.
In Beijing we were returning to the hotel through a lovely little park. About half way, a young man stopped us and asked if we were American. He was a part time guide and was looking to improve his English speaking skills. We had a delightful conversation with him for 15 min or so.
In Melbourne there is a free tram around the center city during certain hours. We knew we were a few minutes late for the free ride, but we hopped on anyway expecting to pay the fare. The lady driver got to talking to us and asked where we were staying, where we were from etc.
She then said, “You’re just a couple of minutes late for the free tram, but just take a seat and make believe you didn’t know there was a time limit.”
We did and she alerted us when our stop arrived. We thanked her.
If you’re ever in a place where English is scarce look for a young person, preferably a male. The young people know English and the boys have a bit of an edge on the girls. At the Budapest zoo everything was written in Hungarian. A couple times we were a bit puzzled by the foreign map. I looked around for a young man and sure enough both times he spoke English and was able to show us where we were. Both times we were close to where we wanted to be, but the reassurance was nice to have!
We have run into so many friendly and helpful people around the world, and because of that we have had some delightful surprises.
We asked a fellow on the street where it was, but he was a stranger in town and was just doing some shopping while his wife had her hair done. He was sorry he couldn’t help us. We thanked him and continued on. A couple of minutes later we heard, “Ladies.”
When we turned around we faced the same fellow we had asked directions of. He explained while he was walking in the opposite direction that he remembered where the post office was and proceeded to give us directions. He had turned around and found us to relay that information. How nice was that! As it turned out we were only a block or so away. We entered, made our money exchange and then visited a large department store for a look-see.
Riding the escalator down an hour or so later, the young man standing behind us overheard us discussing finding a restaurant. As we stepped off, he called to us and proceeded to tell us where we could find an arcade of restaurants and recommended a couple he particularly liked. We took his advice and enjoyed a wonderful meal.
When biking in Germany, I was standing outside a bakery waiting for a companion to complete her purchase when an elderly man approached me asking, " Are you American."
After I said yes, he went on to tell me how during WW II he had been in a concentration camp in the United States. I can’t recall the state, but it was a surprise to me, as I was unaware we had a camp there. He apologized for his English. He told me he had been well treated. What a small world.
In Moscow we were looking for a grocery store to buy a gallon of bottled water. We would be in the city long enough to empty it by refilling our small drinking bottles. Unknowingly we turned back when only two blocks away from our destination. Back on the main street we asked directions of a fellow walking with his wife and small child. The wife ducked into a store with the child, but the fellow tried to tell us, but he spoke only Russian. Finally he decided to show us where to turn, so as he hustled down the street he kept up a constant stream of Russian chatter. Jan kept smiling and shaking her head like she knew what he was talking about. I followed smiling. It was a kind gesture on his part and we did find the store and made our purchase. His wife obviously was more skepital of strangers.
In Beijing we were returning to the hotel through a lovely little park. About half way, a young man stopped us and asked if we were American. He was a part time guide and was looking to improve his English speaking skills. We had a delightful conversation with him for 15 min or so.
In Melbourne there is a free tram around the center city during certain hours. We knew we were a few minutes late for the free ride, but we hopped on anyway expecting to pay the fare. The lady driver got to talking to us and asked where we were staying, where we were from etc.
She then said, “You’re just a couple of minutes late for the free tram, but just take a seat and make believe you didn’t know there was a time limit.”
We did and she alerted us when our stop arrived. We thanked her.
If you’re ever in a place where English is scarce look for a young person, preferably a male. The young people know English and the boys have a bit of an edge on the girls. At the Budapest zoo everything was written in Hungarian. A couple times we were a bit puzzled by the foreign map. I looked around for a young man and sure enough both times he spoke English and was able to show us where we were. Both times we were close to where we wanted to be, but the reassurance was nice to have!
We have run into so many friendly and helpful people around the world, and because of that we have had some delightful surprises.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
MY FIRST BIKE TRIP
SHE KEEPS GOING AND GOING
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.
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.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
A PRESCRIPTION MASK
While glancing through a service travel catalog my eye caught the information about a dolphin research project in Belize, and I thought to myself that really sounds like fun.
Since the literature said we’d be swimming with dolphins, I needed to think about buying some swim equipment. When talking to my son he told me, “Mom, I think you should give serious thought to buying a prescription face mask."
My daughter chimed in saying, “I absolutely agree. A prescription mask is the only way to go. Really, Mom, you know you can’t see a thing without your glasses. I've heard the snorkeling there is great.”
This was all new to me so I asked them what they thought a such a mask would cost. The consensus was that 35-40 dollars should do it. I did end up with a prescription mask, but it cost closer to $150. However, it was a good investment as it has been all over the world and the snorkeling in Belize was the best ever. I’d have hated to have missed the wonderful underwater seascapes because everything was a blur and I couldn’t see.
The literature said the only prerequisite for this trip was to be comfortable in the water and to be a relatively good swimmer. No problem there! However, I’m pretty claustrophobic, which is why I never used a snorkel all those years in Hawaii. I really don’t like fins much either. I went next door nearly every day to use my neighbor’s pool, as I knew getting used to the mask, snorkel and fins would take some time.
I really had to talk sternly to myself in order to relax and not panic. Years later, I still have to lecture myself to stay calm when using a mask and snorkel. It never will become second nature for me. However, it was a good investment and one I’m glad I made, as it has allowed me to view some gorgeous underwater scenery, beautiful colorful fish and some differnent and unusual plants and coral. It was like swimming in an huge aquarium. Imagine how much fun that would be!
Since the literature said we’d be swimming with dolphins, I needed to think about buying some swim equipment. When talking to my son he told me, “Mom, I think you should give serious thought to buying a prescription face mask."
My daughter chimed in saying, “I absolutely agree. A prescription mask is the only way to go. Really, Mom, you know you can’t see a thing without your glasses. I've heard the snorkeling there is great.”
This was all new to me so I asked them what they thought a such a mask would cost. The consensus was that 35-40 dollars should do it. I did end up with a prescription mask, but it cost closer to $150. However, it was a good investment as it has been all over the world and the snorkeling in Belize was the best ever. I’d have hated to have missed the wonderful underwater seascapes because everything was a blur and I couldn’t see.
The literature said the only prerequisite for this trip was to be comfortable in the water and to be a relatively good swimmer. No problem there! However, I’m pretty claustrophobic, which is why I never used a snorkel all those years in Hawaii. I really don’t like fins much either. I went next door nearly every day to use my neighbor’s pool, as I knew getting used to the mask, snorkel and fins would take some time.
I really had to talk sternly to myself in order to relax and not panic. Years later, I still have to lecture myself to stay calm when using a mask and snorkel. It never will become second nature for me. However, it was a good investment and one I’m glad I made, as it has allowed me to view some gorgeous underwater scenery, beautiful colorful fish and some differnent and unusual plants and coral. It was like swimming in an huge aquarium. Imagine how much fun that would be!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
LUCERNE'S PRECIOUS LION
On my second trip to Lucerne, Switzerland I was anxious to show Kelly the wonderful touching Lion Monument. While we enjoyed lunch at a sidewalk café along the river I told her, “It’s one of the most famous monuments in the world, and I think I can get us there. We can stroll and shop along the way.”
From a pamphlet we learned that during the French Revolution 40,000 Swiss served under foreign banners. In days of old when a man retired or died his son inherited his father’s commission. It was big business at that time. In 1792 over 700 Swiss mercenaries were killed on the Tuileries Palace steps defending King Louis XVI.
In 1819, a Dane, Bertel Thowaldsen, living in Rome, designed the monument. Lucas Ahorn, a German, carved the monument out of a sandstone hillside in 1820-21 as a tribute to the fallen Swiss countrymen.. At that time the area was out in the country, instead of in the center of the city.
The monument measures six meters high and 10 meters long [39½ X 19 ½ feet]. The dying lion has an arrow in his back, a tear on his cheek, and a paw across the S wiss shield, protecting it even in death. The inscription on the monument translates: To the loyalty and bravery of the Swiss.
It is a wonderful and powerful hunk of stone! I cry every time I see it.
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