I fell asleep in Indiana Jones, reminding me why I rarely go to movies anymore. The girls enjoyed SITC.
On June 18 we took the communter train (R and R) to Versailles. It was amazing --even bigger than Villa Cipora, but more gaudily decorated. We walked through the rooms, and it occurred to me --Marie Antoinette was right --the place IS too nice for poor people. It must have driven her to drink --having them track mud through the marble floors.
We walked through the gardens anfound a lovely cafe, where we had sandwiches. The day was gorgeous!
We took the train back to Paris, and chatted the entire trip with a graduate student who had studied at Furman University in South Carolina. She and D1 talked about accents, and dialects. I asked her how people afford Paris prices, and she told me none of her friends shop in the city --the prices are more bearable in the suburbs.
We had dinner in the Latin Quarter at a cafe, and then spent the most lovely 2 hours of the trip --in Luxemborg Garden. If there is a more delightful park in the world, I don't know where it is.
The sun was out, and the air was soft in the late Spring. Lovers were on the lawn smooching, and children ran around gaily, with peals of laughter.
D2 and I walked over to an enormous head sculpture (Parisians seem to have a thing for these --we saw many enormous head sculptures) and took some photos.
We walked back to D1, and sat and observed some more. The people were savoring the weather. It seemed everyone was smiling. If I could paint, I'd have captured the scene forever.
We took a bus home to Rue Bac, and then went to the hotel. We sat in the lobby bar and had tea and hot chocolate --talking of our adventures.
The next morning, a very nice Cambodian-French driver returned us to Charles DeGaulle, and we met the first and only nasty Frenchman of the trip --an American Airlines gate agent, who delighted in telling us we'd have to wait in a separate line to pay a special tax that was incurred when our tickets were upgraded to Business Class, and AA forgot to charge us. I muttered something about how he'd have been great in the Vichy government, and we walked away.
The 10 hour flight to Miami went surprisingly quickly, with many meals and movies.
Auf Wiedersehen and Au Revoir, Summer, 2008 Euro Trip.
As we reluctantly say goodbye to the Continent, we think back of the memories we'll forever of the time we spent there...
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Last Boring Travel Entry
On June 17, we took the Metro to D1's old 'hood, where she lived the previous Summer while attending the Sorbonne. D1 and D2 shopped in an undergound mall while I watched people walk to and fro on the street.
I started playing a game --I would watch peoples' feet for sneakers. Sure enough, whenever I saw sneakers, they belonged to tourists. I guess the French don't wear sneaks unless they're playing sports.
We then took another Metro to the Jewish Quarter, where we had delicious felafels. We walked around the neighborhood, and then caught a Metro to the hotel. D1 napped while D2 and I headed for the Musee dOrsay.
What a place! We admired the Van Goghs, Degas (es?), Manet, Monet (I kept seeing Harvey Korman's Count De Money in my mind), and Whistler. I didn't know his most famous painting was in Paris.
D2 heard her name called, and she saw a boy from Miami she knew. She now understood what I always teach --how truly the world is small.
D2 and I stopped for some coffee and hot chocolate on the way to the hotel. D1 was angry we didn't bring her any.
We took the bus that evening back to the cinema. The girls went to see "Sex in the City," while I saw "Indiana Jones." To be continued...
I started playing a game --I would watch peoples' feet for sneakers. Sure enough, whenever I saw sneakers, they belonged to tourists. I guess the French don't wear sneaks unless they're playing sports.
We then took another Metro to the Jewish Quarter, where we had delicious felafels. We walked around the neighborhood, and then caught a Metro to the hotel. D1 napped while D2 and I headed for the Musee dOrsay.
What a place! We admired the Van Goghs, Degas (es?), Manet, Monet (I kept seeing Harvey Korman's Count De Money in my mind), and Whistler. I didn't know his most famous painting was in Paris.
D2 heard her name called, and she saw a boy from Miami she knew. She now understood what I always teach --how truly the world is small.
D2 and I stopped for some coffee and hot chocolate on the way to the hotel. D1 was angry we didn't bring her any.
We took the bus that evening back to the cinema. The girls went to see "Sex in the City," while I saw "Indiana Jones." To be continued...
Europe Trip --Paris
We were dropped on Rue Bac, in the 7th Neighborhood (I'm no longer attempting to say or spell the Arrondisement or whatever the hell it is word), and we checked into the Pont Royal Hotel. We loved it immediately --boutique place, literary themed. In fact, it reminded me of the Library Hotel in NY.
We unpacked and strolled to a cafe on St. Germain Boulevard. For me, PAris was love at first sight. Every vista is gorgeous. The feel of the place was magic. I was smitten.
Our dinner was to set the tone for our entire stay --no fancy restaurants, just cafes. We had a delicious chicken dinner, and D1 introduced D2 to her favorite food from the previous Summer --nutella crepes!
Over dinner, I told the girls that I had ZERO itinerary for PAris --they were in charge. I would simply go along and pay for whatever they wanted to do, but I was emancipating myself from the stress of planning and being in charge. Maybe this is why I loved the city so much.
The next morning, I awoke early and visited one of 4 bakeries on our block. I brought back croissants and tarts for my little tarts! Ha. We strolled to the Tulerie Gardens, and watched a famiy of ducks play in one of the fountains. D1 then took us to a famous hot chocolate cafe, where we indulged (for about $12 apiece!). The prices in PAris, especially given the weak dollar, were absurd. Still, we didn't let it dampen our mood (especially since Dad was paying!).
We rode the Metro to the Eiffel Tower, and rode to the top. The view is indescribable. After we fantasized about the other exotic places we'd like to visit (fueled by the guide arrows on the observation deck, like Tahiti 15,000 miles, we rode back down.
That evening, we took a bus to the Odeon Theatre, in the LAtin Quarter, but found the movie times were too late. We walked back to the hotel on St. Germaine, and D1 pointed out the Cafe Deux MAgots, where Sartre wooed DeBeouvoir, and Trotsky plotted.
I fell asleep dreaming I was Hemingway.
We unpacked and strolled to a cafe on St. Germain Boulevard. For me, PAris was love at first sight. Every vista is gorgeous. The feel of the place was magic. I was smitten.
Our dinner was to set the tone for our entire stay --no fancy restaurants, just cafes. We had a delicious chicken dinner, and D1 introduced D2 to her favorite food from the previous Summer --nutella crepes!
Over dinner, I told the girls that I had ZERO itinerary for PAris --they were in charge. I would simply go along and pay for whatever they wanted to do, but I was emancipating myself from the stress of planning and being in charge. Maybe this is why I loved the city so much.
The next morning, I awoke early and visited one of 4 bakeries on our block. I brought back croissants and tarts for my little tarts! Ha. We strolled to the Tulerie Gardens, and watched a famiy of ducks play in one of the fountains. D1 then took us to a famous hot chocolate cafe, where we indulged (for about $12 apiece!). The prices in PAris, especially given the weak dollar, were absurd. Still, we didn't let it dampen our mood (especially since Dad was paying!).
We rode the Metro to the Eiffel Tower, and rode to the top. The view is indescribable. After we fantasized about the other exotic places we'd like to visit (fueled by the guide arrows on the observation deck, like Tahiti 15,000 miles, we rode back down.
That evening, we took a bus to the Odeon Theatre, in the LAtin Quarter, but found the movie times were too late. We walked back to the hotel on St. Germaine, and D1 pointed out the Cafe Deux MAgots, where Sartre wooed DeBeouvoir, and Trotsky plotted.
I fell asleep dreaming I was Hemingway.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Break From the Travel Logl
So I met Barry for breakfast today at Bagel Emporium, across from UM. He left his car at the Hialeah Metro stop, and rode to the Gables.
We used to shop weekly in the strip center where the restaurant is, at a Pantry Pride. We spoke about D1, since I'm taking her back to Gainesville tomorrow, to embark upon the second half of her college career.
Barry and I spoke of many things, as we always do, but I guess it was inevitable that we reminisced about the 3 years we were roommates at UM. We spoke about, as Jimmy Buffet sang, the good times and riches, and son of a bitches...
After breakfast, I drove him back to JMH, but I took a detour. I exited the Dolphin at 12th Avenue, and drove South to NW 7th Street. I made a right, and looked to the left. The Orange Bowl was completely gone, even the rubble.
The Orange Bowl was the only stadium I had ever watched a football game with my father. It was 1981, in December, and th Fins played the Jets. It was a freezing cole afternoon, by Miami standards, and the wind chilled us as we sat in the upper deck with Eric and his father MArvin, now also passed on.
Barry had seen games there with his father Sy, also long gone.
I looked to the old student section, and saw 2 young men, 21 and 19, watching a Canes game against the hated Florida Gators, in 1981. Danny Miller kicked a long field goal, giving the Canes a thrilling victory. The 2 undergrads jumped up and down and screamed wildly, nearly throwing each other over the back of the lower deck railing. They were thin, and dark haired, and bursting with the promise of youth.
I dropped Barry off at his important job --leading the care of critically ill children, and teaching young doctors. He has the job he dreamed of when he was 19.
I drove to my office, and looked at my name on the door, in a class A Brickell Avenue building. I guess I've succeeded beyond my 1981 dreams.
Still, sometimes I really, truly, miss those days...
We used to shop weekly in the strip center where the restaurant is, at a Pantry Pride. We spoke about D1, since I'm taking her back to Gainesville tomorrow, to embark upon the second half of her college career.
Barry and I spoke of many things, as we always do, but I guess it was inevitable that we reminisced about the 3 years we were roommates at UM. We spoke about, as Jimmy Buffet sang, the good times and riches, and son of a bitches...
After breakfast, I drove him back to JMH, but I took a detour. I exited the Dolphin at 12th Avenue, and drove South to NW 7th Street. I made a right, and looked to the left. The Orange Bowl was completely gone, even the rubble.
The Orange Bowl was the only stadium I had ever watched a football game with my father. It was 1981, in December, and th Fins played the Jets. It was a freezing cole afternoon, by Miami standards, and the wind chilled us as we sat in the upper deck with Eric and his father MArvin, now also passed on.
Barry had seen games there with his father Sy, also long gone.
I looked to the old student section, and saw 2 young men, 21 and 19, watching a Canes game against the hated Florida Gators, in 1981. Danny Miller kicked a long field goal, giving the Canes a thrilling victory. The 2 undergrads jumped up and down and screamed wildly, nearly throwing each other over the back of the lower deck railing. They were thin, and dark haired, and bursting with the promise of youth.
I dropped Barry off at his important job --leading the care of critically ill children, and teaching young doctors. He has the job he dreamed of when he was 19.
I drove to my office, and looked at my name on the door, in a class A Brickell Avenue building. I guess I've succeeded beyond my 1981 dreams.
Still, sometimes I really, truly, miss those days...
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Friday in Bratislava
Bratislava is the Capital of Slovakia, the other half of Czechoslovakia, which separated after the Soviets turned tail in the early 90s.
We hiked to the top of a huge hill to see their famous castle, to learn it was closed for the next 2 years for renovation. Ah,,Soviet style efficiency still reigned.
We walked through the streets, making fun of these folks. Ds told me about a scene from "Euro Trip," where an American gives a Bratislavan a quarter, which is enough for the fellow to start his own business.
We stumbled into a cafe, as D1 was having a near fatal low blood sugar episode, and were treated to the most delicious hot chocolate any of us had ever had. Strange music played in this dark and mysterious cafe, and the proprietress looked like a Gypsy. It was pretty neat.
We left, and saw a Jewish Museum right next door. We learned the Jewish population of Bratislava was 18,000 pre war, and now less than 1000. The Museum had neat artifacts from early Slovakian Jewish life, including a display of the scientists who fled to America and developed nuclear weapons. Hmmm...had Hitler just been a tyrant without the anti semitism thing, it would be the Germans touring OUR quaint villages today...
We found our way to a gorgeous City square, where D2 bought a "HapsBurger King" T shirt for her AP Euro teacher. We then bought a delicious pizza to go, and ate it in a park near the ship. We were getting a tad tired of the rich ship cuisine, with all of the sauces, and veal, etc... The pizza was delicious.
Friday evening, the Mozart had a formal farewell dinner, with the waiters doing the baked Alaska thing, beautifully choreographed. Eva regaled us with tales of being a Pan Am stewardess in the late 60s "I met the Beatles on a Vancouver flight. I said --you are pretty nice guys --I had thought you vas queers."
She and Hans had lived in New York, where Hans was a chef at the Waldorf Astoria, and then they managed a motel in Sunny Isles before making their way to Hawaii. They talked about their 2 daughters, one of whom married a Tahitian and became a Mormon. What a colorful life they've led...
Saturday we docked in Melk, where we hiked up to the Abbey and Church. It turned out to be the most impressive Carholic installation I'd ever seen --rivalling the Vatican buildings. We walked through amazing libraries with huge collections of books from the Dark Ages, and it seemed everything in the church was gilded with gold.
We stopped at a cafe, and a wedding was going on. Typical unhappy austrian expressions abounded. We chuckled some more.
There was another stop, at Grein. The girls napped through the 2 hour visit; I got off and walked through the streets.
Tomorrow we would dock in Passau, where Joerg would meet us , and drive us back to the Munich airport.
Joerg gave me a beer stein from his local brewery. I thanked him. It was my only souveneir!
We had a long layover at the Munich airport. A nice Moroccan fellow allowed us into the Air France lounge, even though we weren't members. We chatted, and he share my disdain for the coldness of his adopted countrymen.
We caught a 4 pm flight to PAris, for the final portion of our trip.
We hiked to the top of a huge hill to see their famous castle, to learn it was closed for the next 2 years for renovation. Ah,,Soviet style efficiency still reigned.
We walked through the streets, making fun of these folks. Ds told me about a scene from "Euro Trip," where an American gives a Bratislavan a quarter, which is enough for the fellow to start his own business.
We stumbled into a cafe, as D1 was having a near fatal low blood sugar episode, and were treated to the most delicious hot chocolate any of us had ever had. Strange music played in this dark and mysterious cafe, and the proprietress looked like a Gypsy. It was pretty neat.
We left, and saw a Jewish Museum right next door. We learned the Jewish population of Bratislava was 18,000 pre war, and now less than 1000. The Museum had neat artifacts from early Slovakian Jewish life, including a display of the scientists who fled to America and developed nuclear weapons. Hmmm...had Hitler just been a tyrant without the anti semitism thing, it would be the Germans touring OUR quaint villages today...
We found our way to a gorgeous City square, where D2 bought a "HapsBurger King" T shirt for her AP Euro teacher. We then bought a delicious pizza to go, and ate it in a park near the ship. We were getting a tad tired of the rich ship cuisine, with all of the sauces, and veal, etc... The pizza was delicious.
Friday evening, the Mozart had a formal farewell dinner, with the waiters doing the baked Alaska thing, beautifully choreographed. Eva regaled us with tales of being a Pan Am stewardess in the late 60s "I met the Beatles on a Vancouver flight. I said --you are pretty nice guys --I had thought you vas queers."
She and Hans had lived in New York, where Hans was a chef at the Waldorf Astoria, and then they managed a motel in Sunny Isles before making their way to Hawaii. They talked about their 2 daughters, one of whom married a Tahitian and became a Mormon. What a colorful life they've led...
Saturday we docked in Melk, where we hiked up to the Abbey and Church. It turned out to be the most impressive Carholic installation I'd ever seen --rivalling the Vatican buildings. We walked through amazing libraries with huge collections of books from the Dark Ages, and it seemed everything in the church was gilded with gold.
We stopped at a cafe, and a wedding was going on. Typical unhappy austrian expressions abounded. We chuckled some more.
There was another stop, at Grein. The girls napped through the 2 hour visit; I got off and walked through the streets.
Tomorrow we would dock in Passau, where Joerg would meet us , and drive us back to the Munich airport.
Joerg gave me a beer stein from his local brewery. I thanked him. It was my only souveneir!
We had a long layover at the Munich airport. A nice Moroccan fellow allowed us into the Air France lounge, even though we weren't members. We chatted, and he share my disdain for the coldness of his adopted countrymen.
We caught a 4 pm flight to PAris, for the final portion of our trip.
Sailing from Vienna
The Mozart sailed West, through even more impressive locks, some of which accomodated 2 ships simultaneously. As unfriendly as the Germans and Austrians were, they were fine engineers...
We arrived in Estergom, Hungary, and went to a local cafe. We watched some monks walk by, and I sang the 60s song "Hey Hey We're the Monks." The girls chuckled. The village had broken, dusty streets. Estergom earned a collective yawn.
We sailed to Budapest, and arrived in the afternoon. It was gorgeous, and we found a wonderful shopping street, where D1 spent some Florins. We ended up at a cafe, as an almost tropical rain came. We watched the Hungarians and tourists run for shelter, as we ate sandwiches, and watched the locals watching a soccer match.
At dinner, on the ship, Old Jack told us about a curious display: 60 pairs of shoes, metallized, and left on a bank of the Danube, just meters from our ship. He learned they were in memory of a group of Jews who were marched there in the winter, told to step out of their shoes, and then shot into the river. We saw the display the next morning. It was moving and chilling.
The next morning we went to tour the parliament house, but learned the next opening conflicted with an afternoon tour we had booked, so we strolled across the street to the Hungarian Ethographic Museum. They had a typical display of peasant clothing, and tools from ancient Hungary. We enjoyed watching a group of bored school children being led through the rooms. Ds 1 and 2 relived THEIR boring field trips.
There was also a display of "Lost Peoples of Europe," a group of photos compiled by 2 Austrian journalists of obscure peoples like Assyrians still living in the continent. Some of these were Eastern European Jews. Hmm...from integral parts of a society ro a museum curiosity in 2 generations...
In the afternoon we boarded a bus (our only guided tour) to see the Jewish quarter. We saw Europe's largest synagogue, a huge Moorish building that rivalled many grand churches, but was ordered to be built shorter than the shortest Catholic church.
We walked through the streets, and saw memorials to Raul Wallenberg, and some kosher bakeries.
We also realized that, for some strange reason, Budapest has many very tall women!
Back to the Mozart, and dinner with JAck, Hans and Eva.
After dinner, a group of Germans were watching their soccer team play Croatia. Croatia won, in a huge Euro Tournament upset. I was rather cheered.
Up on deck, my Irish friend Gordon shared in my schadenfreude. Bratislava beckoned...
We arrived in Estergom, Hungary, and went to a local cafe. We watched some monks walk by, and I sang the 60s song "Hey Hey We're the Monks." The girls chuckled. The village had broken, dusty streets. Estergom earned a collective yawn.
We sailed to Budapest, and arrived in the afternoon. It was gorgeous, and we found a wonderful shopping street, where D1 spent some Florins. We ended up at a cafe, as an almost tropical rain came. We watched the Hungarians and tourists run for shelter, as we ate sandwiches, and watched the locals watching a soccer match.
At dinner, on the ship, Old Jack told us about a curious display: 60 pairs of shoes, metallized, and left on a bank of the Danube, just meters from our ship. He learned they were in memory of a group of Jews who were marched there in the winter, told to step out of their shoes, and then shot into the river. We saw the display the next morning. It was moving and chilling.
The next morning we went to tour the parliament house, but learned the next opening conflicted with an afternoon tour we had booked, so we strolled across the street to the Hungarian Ethographic Museum. They had a typical display of peasant clothing, and tools from ancient Hungary. We enjoyed watching a group of bored school children being led through the rooms. Ds 1 and 2 relived THEIR boring field trips.
There was also a display of "Lost Peoples of Europe," a group of photos compiled by 2 Austrian journalists of obscure peoples like Assyrians still living in the continent. Some of these were Eastern European Jews. Hmm...from integral parts of a society ro a museum curiosity in 2 generations...
In the afternoon we boarded a bus (our only guided tour) to see the Jewish quarter. We saw Europe's largest synagogue, a huge Moorish building that rivalled many grand churches, but was ordered to be built shorter than the shortest Catholic church.
We walked through the streets, and saw memorials to Raul Wallenberg, and some kosher bakeries.
We also realized that, for some strange reason, Budapest has many very tall women!
Back to the Mozart, and dinner with JAck, Hans and Eva.
After dinner, a group of Germans were watching their soccer team play Croatia. Croatia won, in a huge Euro Tournament upset. I was rather cheered.
Up on deck, my Irish friend Gordon shared in my schadenfreude. Bratislava beckoned...
Monday, June 23, 2008
Vienna
So Monday evening we sailed into Wein, as the Austrians call it. Vienna is a large city, with a modern looking Downtown (UN City) on one side of the Danube, and the old buildings on the other.
We had made plans to meet Peter by the ship, a 24 year old fellow whose mother is a cousin of a Miami friend. Peter is a delightful young man, who wants to come to Miami to get a MBA. He spent quite some time in the States, and works for a telecommunications company in Vienna.
Peter drove us to the top of a hill, where we enjoyed a panoramic view of Vienna while I drank a local beer. The girls thoroughly enjoyed having someone of their generation to talk to, after 2 days with mostly sept and octogenarians.
Peter then drove us all around the city, parking near the opera house and St. Stephens church, which is the model for Disney's Cinderella's Castle --gorgeous in white marble.
We ate some delicious pizza, and walked around before stopping at a famous hotel that serves the best chocolate cake in the world. We shared a slice. Peter dropped us back at the ship, after exchanging Facebook adresses with the girls. I think we'll keep in touch with this cosmopolitan young fellow, who'll probably end up running a major corporation someday.
Tuesday we took a bike tour through the city, led by Alex, a local bike guy. We rode through the amusement park I had just seen in "The Third Man," and Alex pointed out the Ferris Wheel where Orson Welles almost pushed out his friend.
Also on the tour was Andrew, a very nice Irish guy from NYC who was travelling with his brother and 90 year old mother. Andrew was gay, I'm pretty sure (the girls were singing the Avenue Q song whenever the subject arose) and we ended up speaking a lot about the City. Andrew is a computer guy for NY Bank, and his brother owns a funeral home, but was very outgoing and charming.
Other bikers were a Belgian couple, and Yves, the husband, chain smoked the entire hike. We crossed over two Danube bridges, and rode along a path where the Viennese swim and sunbathe.
Sure enough, we passed several naturists, including women wh weren't exactly South Beach model types, and an older fellow fully displaying his Viennese sausage in the Austrian sunlight. Part of the local color, I told my girls...
Back on the ship, we sat on the sun deck as the ship sailed away. I was feeling great, and smiled and said hello to some German passengers. Once again: icy looks in return. Ya --now I get it!
We had made plans to meet Peter by the ship, a 24 year old fellow whose mother is a cousin of a Miami friend. Peter is a delightful young man, who wants to come to Miami to get a MBA. He spent quite some time in the States, and works for a telecommunications company in Vienna.
Peter drove us to the top of a hill, where we enjoyed a panoramic view of Vienna while I drank a local beer. The girls thoroughly enjoyed having someone of their generation to talk to, after 2 days with mostly sept and octogenarians.
Peter then drove us all around the city, parking near the opera house and St. Stephens church, which is the model for Disney's Cinderella's Castle --gorgeous in white marble.
We ate some delicious pizza, and walked around before stopping at a famous hotel that serves the best chocolate cake in the world. We shared a slice. Peter dropped us back at the ship, after exchanging Facebook adresses with the girls. I think we'll keep in touch with this cosmopolitan young fellow, who'll probably end up running a major corporation someday.
Tuesday we took a bike tour through the city, led by Alex, a local bike guy. We rode through the amusement park I had just seen in "The Third Man," and Alex pointed out the Ferris Wheel where Orson Welles almost pushed out his friend.
Also on the tour was Andrew, a very nice Irish guy from NYC who was travelling with his brother and 90 year old mother. Andrew was gay, I'm pretty sure (the girls were singing the Avenue Q song whenever the subject arose) and we ended up speaking a lot about the City. Andrew is a computer guy for NY Bank, and his brother owns a funeral home, but was very outgoing and charming.
Other bikers were a Belgian couple, and Yves, the husband, chain smoked the entire hike. We crossed over two Danube bridges, and rode along a path where the Viennese swim and sunbathe.
Sure enough, we passed several naturists, including women wh weren't exactly South Beach model types, and an older fellow fully displaying his Viennese sausage in the Austrian sunlight. Part of the local color, I told my girls...
Back on the ship, we sat on the sun deck as the ship sailed away. I was feeling great, and smiled and said hello to some German passengers. Once again: icy looks in return. Ya --now I get it!
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