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Taking PopPop Home

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July, 2025

It seemed that everyone I knew had been to Ireland but me.  My husband had played golf all over the country with my son and son-in-law.  My travel buddies had been twice – once with their entire family, including the 80-something grandfather. Even my all-but daughter and her husband had been this past year to celebrate their anniversary.  So when my daughter called and said they had been invited to a wedding in Ireland and would I like to join them, I jumped at the chance.

What made this invitation even more attractive was that my daughter loves planning trips, so I wouldn’t have to worry about flight times, accommodations, itineraries, or anything but what to pack. 

In addition, we would be able to return my newly departed husband to his home in Scotland by way of a ferry across the North Channel from Belfast, Northern Ireland to Cairnryan, Scotland. We would drive to Dundee and place his ashes with his parents’ and his sister’s at the cemetery there.  Out hearts would be glad to do this for him, since he was always a Scot even in America.

The flight was uneventful and we landed in Dublin on a Monday morning.  There was a long line for the rental car, so that delayed us a bit. Even if they are less costly, don’t rent from Sixt. But soon we were on our way, albeit with a few fits and starts as Mike got accustomed to driving a manual transmission car (Nancy had requested an automatic) for the first time since high school.  The switch from driving on the right to using the left lane instead wasn’t as unfamiliar as he had just been in London a few weeks before.

We stopped for lunch in Kilcock in a cafe situated in an old church.  I had potato-leek soup and half a tomato,cheese, and ham sandwich.  The prices were not outrageous, even though the Euro was worth more than the dollar.

My granddaughter, Faye, and I were excited when we drove through Ballinrobe, because she found on Chat GPT that there was a racecourse there.  But, sadly, the races didn’t commence until after our trip.  

The wedding was to take place at the home of Mike’s high school friend, Jimmy, and his bride, Jo. They had bought a property with an authentic Irish cottage, complete with thatched roof and were getting married there, near the village of Westport.

The house Nancy rented was spacious and very comfortable.  We each had our own room, and there were three bathrooms, perfect for 3 women on holiday.  Mike had provided all of us with adapters so we could recharge our phones, ipads, and laptops.  The idea of 11 days with no internet was unthinkable.  We were near a large grocery store, so bought beer, wine, pastries, ice cream, fruit, snacks, milk and eggs.  Mike was happy he didn’t have to give up his habit of shopping every day like the Europeans do.

Our first tourist destination was the lovely Kylemore Abbey.  This country house was built in the 1860’s by a wealthy English businessman and there are several rooms preserved just as they were when the Henrys lived there. After World War I, refugee Benedictine nuns took it over and turned it into a girls’ boarding school.  The best part of visiting the Abbey is the beautiful gardens.  In addition to Victorian designed flower beds, there are vegetable gardens, fruit trees, a couple of fat pigs, Connemara ponies, and the gardener’s small hut with a period foot warmer on the small bed.

Our next day trip was to the Cliffs of Moher, one of the must-see sites in Ireland.  If it weren’t for the mobs of tourists, it would have been a lovely way to spend a day.  The geology of the place must have been interesting, but sadly we didn’t have our geologist with us to teach us.  An informative video presentation would have a welcome addition.  We had lunch in the over-crowded cafe, but passed up the gift shop.  The mist had rolled in and we were happy that we had come early when we could still see the cliffs, the birds wheeling in the sky and the boat way, way down below for tourists who wanted the looking-up view.

The following day was the wedding that Mike, Nancy, and the girls were to attend.  I opted out, even though the Jim and Jo were insistent that I would have been welcome.  It was nice to have most of the day to myself.  After a leisurely morning, I decided to clean up the kitchen a bit.  The sink was full of dishes, and the counter was littered with all our various pastries.  I loaded the dishwasher, swept the floor, and went off to take a nap.  

When I got up, I went to the kitchen to get a drink and uh-oh, the floor was covered in suds!  I had mistakenly filled the soap dispenser with dish soap instead of dishwasher detergent.  I mopped it all up and checked the inside.  The dishes were clean, but suds were still inside.  I rinsed and dried all the dishes and put them away, hoping that we wouldn’t have to run the dishwasher again before we left.  Felt pretty stupid when I told Nancy about it.

We experienced another glitch that you should know about if you travel to the UK.  The Republic of Ireland is a sovereign country.  Northern Ireland is part of the UK, as is Scotland.  Nancy had rented the car in Dublin (Republic of Ireland). The ferry to Scotland is located in Northern Ireland, in Belfast (part of the UK). You can rent a car from any country in the United Kingdom and travel to another country in the UK.  But, and this is critical, you cannot rent a car in the Republic of Ireland and take it to Scotland. That, of course, was our plan.  Nancy had paid for a VRBO in Glasgow, and we were committed to putting PopPop in the cemetery in Dundee. The solution, though costly, was to rent a different vehicle from Enterprise in Belfast, park the Sixt van in long-term parking at the ferry, change vehicles to the Nissan SUV, drive it onto the ferry and use it in Scotland.  I felt awful because I knew this would add several hundred dollars to the cost of the trip.  If it weren’t for taking Ron’s ashes to Dundee, I think they would have just cancelled the Scotland leg of the trip.

Thanks to Ron’s niece, Linda, we had an address for the cemetery.  Had a bit of a bother navigating around the road construction nearby, but eventually found the entrance.  The man working in the office was very helpful and called one of the gardeners to take us to Section 8 where the Laws were. Faye had written a beautiful eulogy for her PopPop, and we were all in tears.  We passed around the container so that each of us participated in placing a portion near his Mom and Dad.  It was a lovely, peaceful spot and meticulously maintained which I was grateful for.  I am making a promise to send them a donation on his birthday each year.

We were on our way back to Cairnryan to get the return ferry when suddenly Mike couldn’t shift gears.  We had just exited the roundabout so eased off the road into a neighborhood.  Mike got us to the curb in the pouring rain and got wet trying to see if there was anything obviously wrong.  Meanwhile, Nancy and Ella set about trying to call the emergency road service number.  Trying to figure out what numbers you have to dial from a US based phone to reach a number in Scotland was maddening.  Finally reached someone and they agreed to dispatch help right away. Five of us in the SUV was uncomfortable; we hadn’t eaten and were getting “hangry”; Faye had to pee; but there was nothing to do but cuddle under our blanket and wait. Mike went to knock on the door of the house where we had parked, explained our dilemma, and politely asked if his daughter could use their bathroom.  They couldn’t have been nicer, wanted to help, and offered to have us come in “for a cuppa.” 

After what seemed a long time, a mechanic arrived, in a small work truck.  So he definitely wasn’t there to rescue us.  Meanwhile,the clock is ticking, and it’s 12:30. We were booked on the 3:30 ferry and had to check in by 3:00.  It was about two hours from where we were to the ferry, so we were getting very anxious. The mechanic took all of two minutes to declare “yeah, this car’s not going anywhere.” He also declared that he was a mechanic for Nissan, not for the roadside assistance company Enterprise used.  So, another long wait (still pouring rain) for the right person to show up.  Now it was decision time: cancel our ferry reservation for 3:30 and get us booked on a later one.  Wouldn’t you know – the 7:30 ferry was sold out, so the only spaces were on the one at 11:30 pm.  That meant we would get to Belfast at about 1:30 am, and still have a 2 hour drive to Dublin.  Nobody thought that was a good idea. We decided that we would have to go to a hotel for the night in Belfast. Another unforeseen expense.  

Skip to the next day.  Slept in a bit and had a wonderful breakfast at the hotel.  We had picked up our original van at the ferry landing, and turned in the other rental.  And were on our way to Dublin.  

Oh, how we wished we had three more days in Dublin!  Fascinating city. We enjoyed a tour on the river by boat which was informative.  The girls probably didn’t know the history of “The Troubles,” and the tour guide helped us understand all that.  There is also a rich history of the bridges spanning the river.

After a lunch at the Old Mill, we made our way to Trinity College.  It would have been nice to explore a bit more, but the day was ending and the girls wanted to get back to the apartment to change and go out to the pubs. It was a perfect day.

We flew home by way of Philly the next morning, but our luggage didn’t.  It was supposed to be checked all the way through from Dublin to Dallas.  Didn’t happen. But, since American Airlines can find suitcases better than our government can track visas, our suitcases were delivered to the house the next day, in time for me to catch my flight back home to Phoenix.

And so ends the tale of taking PopPop home to Dundee.

Panguche

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Published 07/20/2012

Today we rode the bus for the first time.  We walked to the square and it was easy to find the bus to Otavalo.  When we got off the bus there was a taxi dispatcher and we simply told him that we wanted to go to the Panguche Falls.  Quick as a wink a taxi was there.  We hopped in and in about 5 minutes we arrived at the falls area.  It was a lovely spot, the smell of eucalyptus in the air, and the soothing sound of the stream running just off the path.  The falls were quite nice-not as impressive as Glacier, but can there be a lousy waterfall? 

We made the mistake of agreeing to let the driver wait for us. We thought it was really nice of him to offer; we would pay for it later.  After we saw the falls the driver took us into Panguche, a community known for its weavers.  He stopped in front of this little shop and we stepped into a shop filled with beautiful wall hangings, sweaters, scarves, tablecloths, wallets, socks, tons of stuff.  Downstairs were 5 looms and other equipment.  I will post a video on Facebook of the young man weaving.  I bought a tablecloth and two wallets.

 After the weavers shop we had the driver take us to Otavalo for lunch.  He stopped at the square, The Plaza of Ponchos, in front of a restaurant.  Bill and Ron asked him how much we owed him, and he said $30!  We were not prepared for that.  Next time we will know better.  Got to learn, I guess. We had a good lunch – shrimp for Ron, and rice with vegetables for me, Bill and Verda shared a “tipica” plate with steak, pork, chicken, potatoes, and some sort of corn.  Afterwards we went shopping in the market.  Ron bought an alpaca sweater, I bought an alpaca poncho, Verda bought a zip front sweater and a beautiful alpaca blanket.  Oh, and I also bought a pair of slippers for these cold tile floors. Finally, we headed for the bus station and found a bus going back to Otavalo.  By the time we got home we were all ready for a drink and some tv time.

Tena is Hot and Humid

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July, 2012

Friday-Banos to Tena

Breakfast was included with our room, and it came with good, delicious coffee for a change.  Not Nescafé.  Also a glass of some sort of red juice that we couldn’t identify, but that tasted yummy.  Their idea of a pancake, however, is what we call a tortilla, and mine came filled with fresh pineapple, strawberries, cantaloupe, and watermelon.  My favorite kind of breakfast.  We checked out and the total was $55.   

We took a taxi to the bus station and found out how to get a bus to Tena.  Had to wait a while, but Ron found a couple from Calgary to chat with.  The bus was late, the first delay we have experienced, but soon we were on our way.  The buses are comfortable, the seats recline, and on any ride long enough they show a movie.  The other day we saw “Desperado” with Antonio Banderas and Selma Hayek, and today “Pulp Fiction” was playing.  The sights out the window were more interesting than the movie, though.  

The bus route follows the course of the river, but winds along a serpentine road, through mountain tunnels, rocking back and forth so that my iPad screen keeps switching views.  I almost killed Ron trying to give him a bite of banana.  He had his mouth open and I held the banana up just as the bus lurched around a curve and the banana disappeared down his throat!  He has adopted the little camera and is snapping shots like crazy.  He loves digital, but between the photos I take, the ones he takes, and the ones we downloaded from Bills camera, we easily have over a thousand shots so far. 

We noticed that the people in the Oriente province that we have seen are taller and thinner than the people around Imbabura.  Wonder why?  Also, we saw a lot more men smoking in Ambato.  maybe the city folks have more money than the people in the country or small towns do.  But there are some things that just seem unusual to us.  For instance, in the bus stations, they have people yelling, “Quito, Quito, Quito,” or “Puyo, Tena” rather than loudspeakers making announcements like we are used to. After a long bus ride (the last hour of which some woman’s stomach was pressing on my shoulder shoving me into Ron who was by the window because she and a bunch of others had to stand up for lack of seats) we finally pulled into Tena.  

OMG!  The worst bus station yet. Crumbling concrete benches, no restrooms at all, people selling food all over the place (there are apparently no sanitation standards in Ecuador), and grubby little children trying to entertain themselves by climbing on some abandoned pipe structure.  The guidebook says that the bus station is in the less attractive part of town and not to be put off by first impressions.  Oops, too late.   

At least La Casa del Abuelo is a nice, clean, welcoming hostel.  Has a patio, AC, wifi, and TV.  The beds are comfortable, and if we have to just stay in this room until time to leave tomorrow, then that’s what we will do. Unfortunately, a bunch of other Americans thought this was the place to stay, and they were in the room next door.  At 2:30 am, the baby woke up.  They must have been trying to get him to give up his bottle because he screamed like Willie used to when we were trying to wean him.  He would scream for 10 minutes, quiet down for 2 minutes, then scream for another 10 minutes.  This went on for about an hour before they finally shut him up.  Then the dogs started barking.   

Breakfast was another surprise.  This time it was lukewarm water, instant coffee and eggs I didn’t order.  Soon the young man brought some boiling hot water, and some hot milk, so eventually we got a halfway decent cup of coffee after I poured two other attempts on the potted plants.   After breakfast we walked across the bridge to Cafe Tortuga where we had heard they had a bus schedule.  Sure enough, we found that there was a bus to Quito at 10:00.  Grabbed a cab to the bus station and didn’t have to wait long for the bus.  Ron made a gallant effort to ask the bus driver if there was a place we could get off and catch a bus to Otavalo without having to go all the way to the Quitumbe (southern) terminal.  We thought he understood, but weren’t sure.  Happily, four young American students got on the bus, and we talked to them for the length of their ride.  One of them spoke fluent Spanish and so Ron asked him to ask the driver where we could get the Otavalo bus, so we were sure that the driver understood and would tell us where to get off.   

So you know, of course that they didn’t stop and let us off anywhere, but continued on to the station an hour across Quito.  Ron was steaming.  However, the bus drivers assistant was so sweet – he went with us into the station and even went upstairs to the tickets windows to make sure these demented old people who couldn’t understand Spanish could get on the damned bus to Otavalo.  Bought tickets and only had to wait 20 minutes for the bus.  The worse part of the trip home was the bus from Otavalo to Cotacachi.  One bus was pulling out when we paid our taxi driver, so Ron ran and caught it, barely stopping it in time for me to climb ungracefully on board.  There were no more seats on the bus, so we had to stand, until enough people got off and freed up some seats.   It is funny how a place you have been in only two weeks can seem so familiar and welcoming.  Strolling down Leather Street felt known and comforting after four days away.

Exploring Italy

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Published April, 2007

I recently found an old journal with entries from our trip to Italy in April, 2007.  

Our friends from Alexandria, Virginia, joined my husband and me for a two-week tour of Italy with Untours.  I would recommend this company to folks who like to travel and explore on their own, but with backup whenever necessary.  Untours booked us into a fairy-tale farmhouse in Tuscany within a short driving distance of many of the towns that would be on your must-see list.  The accommodations were excellent, the people we met were congenial, the food was so good Ron was talking about it years later. Of course, it was impossible to take a bad photo in such a spectacular setting.  Untours provided us a car, some escorted tours, a welcoming dinner, and a concierge with help or answers to any questions we had. After a week in Tuscany, we spent a week on the Amalfi coast.  Finally, we went on our own to Rome, then home. 

My little journal starts with a description of a day in Florence.

Drove to Florence and parked at the free parking lot – Piazzale Michaelangelo. Walked down the hill and along the Arne river to the Uffizzi Museum. Got in without standing in line since Verda had made reservations.  Museum was disappointing. Too much Jesus, and dark, depressing paintings. Did like the Rembrandts and the Goyas. The weather was hot and humid – miserable! I was soaked. 

After the Uffizzi we looked for the restaurant that Ken recommended, but couldn’t find it. Ended up going in a restaurant where lunch cost us $100 for the 4 of us. (Note: in 2025, that would be about average for 4 people without wine or beer.) Verda and I shared fried zucchini flowers which were super.  Had salad and roasted potatoes.  Bill had a $24 liver entree, and Verda had sautéed spinach which was good. Don’t remember what Ron ordered, probably potatoes.

After lunch we went to the Galleria Dell’ Accademia to visit David up close and personal. The city is chock full of Davids. He greets you at every turn and come in a multitude of sizes in every gift shop. He was meant to be mere decoration of the Cathedral of Florence, commissioned as were so many works of that period  by the church.

The block of marble that would eventually become David was quarried in Carrara. It was transported to Florence and entrusted to another sculptor who accomplished nothing but damage to it.  It sat for many years waiting for the hands of Michelangelo.  He is everything they say he is.  

Left the Academy and took a taxi back up the hill to the car and drove home. Long ride home  in the dark.  Warmed up pizza, made salad, had salami and cheese, and cookies for dinner. Everyone took a PM and went to bed.

Saturday – market in Buonconvento, from the Latin “bonus conventus” which means “happy place.” Cute, cute little town! Walked up and down and bought shrimp, broccoli/cauliflower, green beans, garlic, onion, potatoes and eggplant. Were waited on by a darling little girl named Angela. She was so engaging and wanted to converse with us to practice her English.

We took the food back to the apartment, then headed for Montelcino. Loved it! If you want to step back in time to the 9th century, you won’t find a better example than Montelcino.  Known in the past for its exceptional leather goods, it is primarily famous now for its Brunello wine.  Verda bought a bottle, even though it is seriously expensive, for her daughter’s anniversary.  We stopped at a bar – the Belvedere – and had yummy lunch. I had insalada Caprese which is mozzarella, fresh tomatoes, basil, good olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Ron had good bread toasted with a piece of prosciutto on top, with artichoke hearts and melted mozzarella over all.  He loved it!

Bought granddaughter Ella an adorable little Italian leather purse – she will be so excited! Also bought 2 little watercolors of Tuscany to frame at home. (And they are still hanging in my bathroom.)

Sunday – Bill is a turtle enthusiast and had discovered a sanctuary within driving distance.  Apparently, hundreds of parents allowed their kids to get a little red slider turtle during the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle craze.  Eventually the children lost interest and many, many turtles were dumped into British waterways.  A charity paid for 800 turtles to be gathered up and flown to a sanctuary in Italy. Of course, Bill was anxious to visit this place, so we set out to find it and, after driving a good ways toward the coast, we found the place. It had been closed for two years! Such a disappointment.

So we went on to Fallonica, situated right on the water.  We parked and walked through town. Stopped at a cafe to get coffee and the woman inside had a signed photo of Rafael Nadal, my tennis idol! She had other pictures and newspaper articles about him on the wall behind the counter. She said he had come into the cafe once.  We didn’t speak the same language but could communicate quite well when it came to our love of Rafa!

We walked down to the water and Ron took off his shoes to say he had waded in the Tyrrhenian Sea. Later, we drove to Volterra, the setting for the Twilight books. Traveled the twistiest road we had been on yet. It took much longer than we had expected to get there, but Tuscany is so beautiful, you don’t mind. Volterra was a great little town. It is the birthplace of Pope Linus. Linus was entrusted with his office by the apostles Peter and Paulafter they had established the Christian church in Rome. Very pleasant little town – I bought alabaster souvenirs just before the downpour began.  We left and headed for Siena and home.

Dinner was potatoes, green beans, the rest of the broc/cauliflower, and I had the remainder of the tortelinni.  Slept like Katie!

Monday –

Went first to San Giovanni d’Asso, a tiny town with only 100 residents, but couldn’t find a place to park the car, so drove on to Pienza. It is the birthplace of Pope Pius II, and the name was changed from Corsignano to Pienza which means city of Pius. Because it is a World Heritage Site, it is a bit more upscale than some of the other towns in Tuscany. 

Tuesday –

Last full day here.  Went to Siena – great city. So-so-so much better than Florence. The parking was easy. Walked to the “Campo” where they run the Paseo- something I wish we could have seen. If I ever came back to Siena, I would plan it for the running of the Paseo. Must be auite the experience. We found a table at an outdoor cafe even thought the plaza was crowded with tourists.  Vendors were set up throughout the plaza and we couldn’t resist the scarves. We bought quite a few to take home.

The Duomo is the most amazing building! Bought lots of postcards since there is no way to properly photograph the immense space. Truly fascinating. The ceiling in one room is entirely gold.  On the way down fro the Duomo we stopped and had pizza to hold us over til dinner, then went shopping. I found a shoe store with shoes on sale. I bought a pair of bone colored loafers. Too bad we can’t take some pecorino cheese home for Kathy and Steve.

Wednesday – 

Left La Canonica about 9:00 headed for the Amalfi coast. Long drive on the A-1 – crazy Italian drivers all thinking they’re competing in an F-1 race. Stopped at an Autogrill for a picnic lunch. Thanks to Verda we had sandwiches. Ron bought a baguette for 1 euro.

Arrived at Agerola and asked directions for the street where the internet point was.  (This was back when there were beginning to be internet cafes, but not personal computers with internet capabilities.) Found it and it turned out it was run by Giovanna’s husband, Pasquale. He spoke excellent English and he led us to the house. Climbed down about a hundred stairs to a lovely house perched on the side of the mountain overlooking the sea.  Breathtaking view. Inside they had even left some of the rock exposed.  Two bedrooms with double beds, nice bathroom, and a washing machine. Made pasta with pesto and a salad for dinner. Ron made eggs and potatoes. It was hard to go inside and leave the iconic view of the Amalfi coast.  You’ve all seen those pictures – houses defying gravity to perch on the side of the mountain. It is so beautiful I wish everyone could spend just one day and night trying to appreciate the genius of those who built on this coastline.

Thursday – 

Had to turn the car in today in Sorrento, so went to Pompeii first. So crowded driving was insane! Finally got there and parked. Walked around the site but lots of things weren’t open. Kind of disappointing. We’re getting jaded, I guess. Had a snack at a little place just outside the gates. I had bruschetta and it was awful. Drove to Sorrento and turned the car in, then walked to the train station to catch the bus.

After asking twice and searching, we finally found the station. Bought tickets to Amalfi. There was only one seat left on the bus, but a young man from Ireland whose Mama had raised him right gave us his seat and Ron and Bill stood up til we got to Positano.  Scary ride but on a crowded bus you couldn’t see enough to be terrified. Hard to get good photos from a moving bus going around one S curve after another. Everyone got off at Amalfi. We had to change buses and take the one to Agerola. We had just missed one bus and had to wait for the next one at 9:00 pm. We were so tired, hungry and overstimulated. Made it to Furore and found some other people who were walking to their apartment and discovered they were from Charlotte. Got to our house, made sandwiches and went to bed. I know it sounds like we ate nothing but sandwiches, but we usually had our lunch at a restaurant and ate a lighter supper.

Friday –

Got up a bit later today. Took the 10:15 bus down to Amalfi and bought tickets for the ferry to Positano. Had an enjoyable boat ride with spectacular views to photograph. Got off and found a neat bar on the water. I had bruschetta and Ron had salami and mozzarella panini. Then we hiked up to the bus stop to get the bus back to Amalfi. We had some time in Amalfi so walked around a bit and I had a gelato. Then went to a cafe where Ron had a beer. The Agerola bus came and Bill and Verda were on it! Funny how often that happens.

Made spaghetti for dinner. Ron had gnocchi and mushy peas.

Saturday – 

Caught the bus up the street again to Amalfi and were planning to go to Capri, but it cost $120 just to get there and back. So Ron and I opted to take the ferry to Salerno which was wonderful. There were maybe a dozen people on the boat and I could sit by the window, put my feet up and snap pictures. Salerno is a normal town where real people live and work, so we found a department store where we bought Faye some shoes, and a little shop where we got her a cute little hat. Still have to find something for Mike for his birthday. Had a little snack of horrible coffee and french fries and potato croquettes with little bits of ham and cheese in them. I had a granito de limon in Amalfi which was so good! The best drink yet. Just like Steve’s margarita machine, but with lemonade. Ron had a little Amalfi cake – sponge cake with lemon flavored whipped cream that was superb. 

We went to the Maritime Museum which was really interesting. Found out the symbol for Amalfi in the regatta is a golden unicorn. Tried to find one for Kathy but no luck.

—————————————————————————————————————

That’s the end of my notes.  It’s a good thing I didn’t write any more because after our idyllic stay in Amalfi, we continued on to Rome. My advice to anyone going to Italy is to skip Rome altogether.  You’ve seen all the pictures and scenes in movies anyway.  Our rooms were awful – could barely fit 2 people in the room and couldn’t turn around in the shower.  It was hot and humid, so I was miserable. The line for the Coliseum was miles long, so we skipped it. We did go to the Vatican and marveled at the riches displayed there.  Seeing the Sistine Chapel so close was worth the whole trip.  True to his nature, Ron insisted that we walk back to our little nook. I tried, but simply gave out even with frequent stops.  He finally grabbed a taxi, thank goodness.  Rome was so crowded and so expensive that we were happy to leave.  

If I were asked what to do in Italy, I would recommend a week in Tuscany, and even that might not be enough time. We weren’t able to squeeze in the Cinque Terra, something I would devote at least three days to if I could.  And next time, I would ferry across to Sicily, if only to see where the Mafia originated. Instead of Rome, I would add Milan for the fashion and Venice for the canals. And, then, if I had a whole month to explore, I would experience Naples.

First Trip to Europe

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Published Mar 29, 2007

When I was a little girl, my mother enrolled me in an educational program from the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art.  They sent a packet of information each month about different art museums in the world and the works of art that could be seen in them.  I pored over these materials for hours, and carefully, so carefully, put the stickers in my booklet in their little frames.  My favorite was the “Winged Victory of Samothrace.”There was something about her power and grace that spoke to me.  I imagined myself transported from my little room in Selma, Alabama, to Paris, to the Louvre, and standing in front of her.  And then, over the years, I forgot about that dream.

Many, many years later when the children were grown and we had more time, we started investigating the possibility of more travel.  And, by then, we had the internet.  I was able to investigate sites like Travelzoo that searches out great travel deals and sends them to you in an email each week.  I happened to see an entry for “European Destinations,” which offers packages that include airfare, accommodations and, sometimes, ground transportation or connections when necessary.  For example, in 2007, this was available: Fly to Rome, spend 2 nights, take the Eurostar train to Florence, spend 2 nights in Florence, take the train to Venice, spend 2 nights in Venice and fly home for an unbelievable $955 per person.  Allowing ourselves $1000 for meals, fees for attractions, and shopping, we could have 6 nights in Italy for just under $3000.

I emailed our travel friends and sent them the link to this amazing package.  Unfortunately (or fortunately, as it turned out) they were on vacation at Hilton Head and had no computer access in their condo.  Days crept by with no response from them and the longer we waited, the higher the price went as the less expensive hotel spots were taken.  

Note: as I remember this now, I realize that 10 years ago, not everyone had a cell phone, a data plan, an iPad, and Wifi everywhere.

When we were finally able to speak with Bill and Verda on the phone, we discovered another glitch.  They had recently been bumped from a Delta flight and were given a voucher for a free flight as long as it was the same price or less than the flight they’d been bumped from.  When Verda checked the voucher, she saw that it expired in two days!  Therefore, we had no time to work out an itinerary with European Destinations since there are options to choose from – including length of stay in each city; 3, 4 or 5 star hotels; which mode of transportation ( train, bus, or car) –  so planning was imperative.  We were on our own as far as planning this trip.

The next thing we knew, Bill and Verda had booked tickets to Amsterdam!  I was surprised, to say the least.  Amsterdam is quite a ways from Rome, Florence, and Venice.  And they booked their flight on May 30th without thinking that, if we traveled from Amsterdam to Rome, it would put us there right at Easter, which that year was on April 8th.  Trying to find an inexpensive hotel in Rome on the holiest of days in Christendom?  You guys do know that the Vatican is in Rome, right?  

True to their adventuresome character, Verda said

“Don’t worry.  Wherever you guys fly into, we’ll just take a train and meet you.”

So, with that in mind, we started searching online for airfares.  As I looked and looked, I was getting discouraged because I couldn’t find anything – not to Amsterdam, Rome, Paris, Munich, anywhere – for less than about $800.  Too much for us to spend.  Finally, one night, my husband was standing by the computer while I showed him what the fares looked like.  He suggested that I look for the previous day – the 29th – instead of the 30th.  Lo and behold!  Flight to Amsterdam for $478 each!  Instead of European Destinations to Italy, this was Cross Your Fingers to The Netherlands. 

“Stinkin’ Rich in Haarlem

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Published Apr 1, 2007

After picking up our car and being somewhat discombobulated by having to drive on the “wrong” side of the road, we set out with no plans other than to stop whenever we wanted to explore.  Our first stop was only eight miles from Amsterdam, but, since we never got underway til mid-morning, it wasn’t long before it was time to stop for lunch!

Haarlem has a unique claim to fame.  A recent study found the Dutch to be the most content of the Europeans, and those folks living in Haarlem were found to be the happiest in the Netherlands.  

As we were soon to learn, the steeple of the church marked the center of town, so we parked and headed there.  We were delighted to find – as had happened for hundreds of years – an open-air market in progress. While we all were shopping for scarves, shoes, and whatever, Ron found a hardware store.  In this store, he found a coffee pot!  The pot was only $15.00 and cups were about $2.00, so just for the two of us it would only take 5 cups of coffee at 4 euros each to pay for itself!  Best decision of the entire trip.  Bill and Verda left it in the last hotel room as a gift to one of the housekeeping staff.

St. Bavo’s church was a good way to learn about medieval history.  According to Rick Steves’ guide, the church was named after St. Bavo, a local nobel who frequented seventh-century Red Light Districts during his youth. In the late 1500’s, the St. Bavo church became Protestant, and was then called the Great Church since Protestants were anti-saint.  In medieval times the church was the focal point of the everyday lives of the people of the town.  Since we were there on a market day, and the church sits right on the square, it was easy to see how, during cold or rainy weather, the market was simply moved inside the church. The base of the church is given over to lots of small shops where you can buy the well-known fries, served with mayo instead of catsup, jewelry, souvenirs, gelato, or even get a haircut.  The church owns the shops and rents them out, thus establishing itself as an economic participant in the community.

As you enter the church you feel the chill – the stone floors, stone walls and colored windows keep any warmth out.  After a while your neck starts hurting from looking up so much and you look down to notice the shape and size of the stone slabs beneath your feet, and you see names and dates engraved on them. Gives one pause to realize you are walking on the graves of people buried centuries ago. 

“Only those with piles of money to give to the church could be buried in a way that gave them an advantage in the salvation derby.  But even though the dead bodies were embalmed, they stunk.  Imagine being a peasant sitting here, trying to think about God . . . and thinking only of the stench of well-fed bodies rotting.  And the phrase “stinking rich” was born.” (Steves, p. 205)  It was the custom of the time in Europe to bury parishioners inside the church rather than a cemetery outside the church. 

St. Bavo’s church is the proud owner of a Christian Muller organ, one of the best in the world with 5,000 pipes.  Amadeus Mozart played this organ when he was only 10 years old, in 1766.  Handel played St. Bavo’s in 1740, the year before his famous Messiah debuted.  Albert Schweitzer also performed on this spectacular organ. 

Just to the left of the organ is a piece of furniture that has survived since the 15th century.  This is what I love about visiting Europe – it’s impossible to feel very important when you see things like the bench where the church gave the city’s poor their daily bread and lard over 500 years ago.  When you see this bench, the prayer, “give us our daily bread” takes on an entirely new meaning.

Even though the rich are buried here, one man was respected enough to be sculpted for all eternity on a wooden panel on the wall.  He was the Dog Whipper.  Back when the church was the site of the marketplace on rainy days, this man’s job was to keep the dogs out of the church, no doubt to keep them from running off with precious food.

After a pleasant lunch at an outdoor cafe just outside the church we continued on to tulip country.

Scent of Hyacinths

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Published Apr 21, 2007

Leaving Haarlem we continued south along the coast passing Den Haag (The Hague) where the international court holds its sessions.  If I could do this trip again, I would allow time to learn more about the International Court of Justice located in the Peace Palace.


As we drove, we passed fields of tulips – acres upon acres of them.  We stopped on the side of the road just to hop out and take some photos.  We were near the Keukenhof, one of the world’s largest and most beautiful flower gardens, but it was already after noon and we had to find a place for the night, so we regrettably made the decision not to explore Keukenhof – a mistake I would remedy the next time.  The beauty of fields of tulips cannot be described – at least not by me – and the fragrance of the hyacinths was overwhelming. 


I’ve mentioned that we didn’t make reservations at name hotels during this trip, and for the most part that was a good decision since we were able to take our time when we wanted, we weren’t on a set schedule, and we found welcoming people wherever we were.  However, this particular afternoon we expected that we could find a bed and breakfast spot in Delft since it is a rather large city, has a university, and is the home of the beautiful Delft blue pottery.  We drove into the center of town, parked and walked around a bit.  We bought some Delft souvenirs but had no luck spotting hotels.  The guidebooks were no help. We drove up and down the narrow streets along the canals and quickly decided that Delft just didn’t want us there.

  
What we really wanted was an out-of-the-way place not too far off the main highway.  Verda closed her eyes and put her finger on the map – a little spot called Neumansdorp, just south of Rotterdam, and just north of the Hollands Diep waterway.  We drove into town and sure enough, just on the right was the “Hotel Eetcafe ’t Wissel.” 

Could you possibly ask for anything more authentic?  We went in and asked if they had two rooms available and yes, indeed, they had a suite with two bedrooms, a kitchen and a bath.  The price was only 50 Euro per couple and the accommodations were so very nice and comfortable.  Our rooms looked out over a canal complete with ducks and green fields.  We went downstairs to the restaurant and had one of the best meals I’ve ever had.  We decided to trust Verda’s finger on the map from here on!    

Thoughts on Europe

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Published Apr 7, 2007

We have just returned from a wonderful trip to Europe with our friends from Alexandria, Virginia. We flew to Amsterdam, spent two days there, then rented a car and drove along the coast, visiting the beaches at Normandy, south to Tours, through the Loire Valley and on to Paris. Spent three days in Paris and then drove straight back on the freeways to Amsterdam for our flight home. We traveled slowly and took the back roads (not worrying about getting lost because of our GPS which Bill thoughtfully provided), stayed in little out-of-the-way hotels and gave ourselves time to ponder on the differences between the European way of being and our own.

It took us a little while to get used to the idea that the Euro was worth more than the dollar. I can’t remember going anywhere that the dollar was less than that country’s currency. Now, here we were in a place where the Euro was worth about $1.35

Not only that, but we were shocked when a cup of coffee was about $3.00 and it was a small, almost espresso-sized cup! Breakfast in our hotel was about $17.00 each. The good thing about those breakfasts was that there was plenty of bread (baguettes) and lots of lunch meats and sliced cheeses, so we could make a sandwich for lunch and sneak it out of the dining room so that with some fruit and a pastry, we had lunch almost free.

As we traveled, it became clear to us that if you wanted to sit at a table and have someone wait on you, you paid for it. If you wanted to go into a grocery, or bakery, or deli, you could purchase food and drink much, much cheaper. But you had to eat in the car, in the hotel room, or picnic. As we thought about it, this made a lot of sense. The high prices were charged in order to pay the staff a living wage (you do not tip in Europe) so being a waitress or waiter or cleaning person was not a job for unskilled, uneducated workers, but rather a job you could be proud of.

It’s a fair system, too, since customers pay for what they use. Real estate on the Champs Elysee is very expensive, so if you want to have a snack at one of those charming outdoor cafes, you’ll pay $30.00 US for a cheeseburger. If you don’t want to pay those rates, then wait and eat closer to your hotel.

We were struck by how neat and clean everything was. The streets, the subways, the sidewalks, the parks, the stores, the rooms, everything. We saw lots of workers sweeping the streets, cleaning the chairs in the subway, wiping down the public water fountains, doing anything that was needed to present an environment that was pleasant, colorful, full of art, and welcoming to people. Everyone seemed to respect their neighborhood, their home, their country.

The public transportation was to die for. Inexpensive, efficient, easy to understand. Americans would hate living in such small spaces as the Europeans do, with no yards, barely even a sidewalk or balcony to put a flower pot on. But, the upside is that neighbors and friends gather at the outdoor cafes and linger over a beer or coffee rather than inside their homes. The parks are filled with families picnicking or going to the art museums or just soaking up the sun. Everyone is surrounded by great art (with no graffitti!) which must give them an appreciation of beauty in the world.

One more thing and then I’ll quit. In Amsterdam everyone rode a bicycle. There are bike lanes everywhere and if you insist on walking in a bike lane, prepare to be scared witless! They will run you over (almost). But, obesity is not a problem there, in spite of the fabulous food. We could take a lesson, huh?