On my way around Lake Constance I went for a refreshing swim...as in, it was too chilly to swwim for long. I reached the campground in Austria, blogged home from my tent- wow! the internet in a tent in Austria!!- and slept, as it began to rain. In the morning it rained off and on, and I made my way to St Marguerite in Switzerland. The border guards motioned me through, and I found a man's burgundy handkerchief, like ones Poppa used. Funny reminder of Dad, who enjoyed Switzerland. I checked my maps and made my way to St Gallen. I went the hard way, not knowing the "shortest" way was up over a mountain range! A 60ish man on a bike led me the way up to a restaurant, where he turned off, after hefting my bike and saying "I'm impressed!" Dietrich's Dad had told me the longest distance between 2 points is a straight line, and that was the case. But, I saw high mountain villages, heard the ring of cowbells in the distance, the chirps of birds- what beautiful views!
The next day in St Gallen, it rained through the day, but I was in the bibliotheque, with the oldest book there having been written in 807. 12 hundred years old! And a mummy from Egypt, from 600BC, was in the corner with her coffins. What a beautiful amazing place, the words don't describe it! The cathedral next door is the most beautiful Baroque one in Switzerland-lovely!
With rain in the forecast for the next several days, I boarded the train on Wednesday and went through the center of the country to France, where I headed north to Paris. My bike was the only one on the train, in contrast to Germany and Holland, where I was blessed to find a place for it. The people from Geneva, Switzerland, to Paris, were definitely of the upper class of society. A nice 20ish girl did speak with me, having lived in New Orleans 1 yr and New York City 1 year. At the bus terminal I was shown on the map where the youth hostel was, and wove my way to it, mostly pushing my bike through people and traffic. Ahh, Paris on a Wednesday afternoon in June! On one occasion, when I got momentarily turned around (lost!) I asked a young man, Do you speak English? He replied, It depends- when I want to. Honest!!
Thursday I bought a Metro ticket and sawthe sights of the city, and made my way to the Eiffel Tower. Holy mackeral! there's nothing like looking at it in front of you. I rode the elevator to the top, stayed for more than an hour, then walked from the second floor down, then back up. Visitors are not allowed to walk all the way to the top. I went to the Arch de Triumphe, down the Chanze Elysses (sp!), past the palace, saw many beautiful sights. After supper and dooing laundry, it was sstill only 9:15, and I traveled out of my comfort zone by taking the subway back to the Eiffel Tower to see it at night in lights. Wow! What a grand lady she is, so delicate and strong and infinitely beautiful!
Arriving back at my room, my roommate, a 60ish woman from Nice, France, was at the window. She had heard a commotion and was looking up, as a drunk? man was throwing household goods from the 20th floor of his new apartment building. Pots, pans, shoes, even a large footstoll came crashing down! We were quite safe, aas he was across the courtyard. The police arrived and things were quiet again.
Paris is so much like the energy and activity of New York City, European style. I rode my bike Friday morning along the bike lane, which is marked for bikes and buses (hmm! bikes beware!!). I easily made my way to the north train station, to head north and over to Dover by way of ferry. The adventure continues.....
27 June 2009
21 June 2009
auto and technical museum in Sinsheim
On Thursday the 18th of June, I drove with Dietrich 10 miles south to the Auto and Technical museum in Sinsheim. There I took off to tour through a Concorde Air France, other planes, and stroll through many collectable cars, bicycles, trains and motorcycles. Just the logistics of bringing an airrplane the size of the Concorde, through city streets to a museum sight, is mindboggling! The airplane sits high above the ground at an upward angle, and I walked thru it to the cockpit, small by todays standards. There are only 2 seats on each side of a narrow aisle, and only 120 people flew each flight. Wow! I went into a German plane, an Air France jet, and viewed many planes, including a Messerschmit 109, the plane which shot Poppa's plane down in 1943. The swastica was clearly visible on the tail, and a weird chill ran up my spine.
Many Mercedes, Rolls Royces, Ferraris, Cadillacs, many beautiful cars were on display from many different times. Bicycles from the 1800s and early 1900s, and many racing winners, were there. Several steam trains, complete with sound and the moving of the wheels, were there. The Blue Flame, which is the first car to break the world land speed record at 622 mph, in Nevada, is there. Wow! what a place!! Visit www.technik-museum.de to see all I saw. Wow!!
Upon leaving, I rode my bike one block and what to my wondering eyes did appear but "second hand store"! I looked at books, toys, and bought a bike jersey, lighter colored shorts, and 2 light shirts. I wove my way thru the back roads to Christine's and we had lunch, then later in the day went for supper at a local tavern. I had schnietzle, which is a pork-fried steak, with lots of shredded carrots, cabbage, tomatos, cucumbers, sauce, and pomme frites, ubiquitous french fries and oh! so good! I'm going to need to bicycle a bunch to burn up all this food! At home, we visited til late, and I tasted ice wine, the first time I'd ever heard of it. This is a very special limited production of white wine, which is made from grapes which have been exposed to below freezing temperature while still on the vine. The wine is pressed from the cold grapes and there is only so much. The taste is lightly sweet and subtle, very rich- delicious isn't a big enough word for it. Only in Germany! (maybe not literally...)
Friday morning we all drove over to Heidelberg, where Christine is part of a huge quilt exhibit in the city. We all worked til noon setting up the racks and poles on which to hang the quilts her guild has made. Then Dietrich and I left to shop for a tent. First we had Thai food for lunch. I had a duck soup with orange curry, and the flavor was superb. Then we had success with a tent in a large 6 story department store. We drove up the mountain above Heidelberg and drove the scenic road home to Mauer. When Christine arrived home we stayed awake for a long time sharing stories, laughter and a great time.
Saturday morning Christine was off to the quilt show, and Dietrich and I drove south to Friedrichstrasse, in the black forest where his parents live. They are at 3000' same as Alberton, but rise from 500' only 50 miles away. Their home is in the woods, next to a nature preserve. Gorgeous and quiet, a rest from city life. Dietrich and I rode our bikes into the town, 8 miles away. It was almost all downhill, which meant....it was uphill and thru the woods back home. After supper his parents, mostly Mom, shared stories about the war, about their lives then and now. It was an undescribable gift to hear his mom talk of all these things still so close in her heart.
Today, Sunday, Father's day. A Happy happy day to you, Raymond!! Happy day to all you dad's!
Dietrich left back to Mauer, and his parents and I drove further south to the Bodensee, AKA Lake Constance. They dropped me off in Lindau, on the southeastern edge of the lake, still in Germany. I bicycled south and around the end of the lake into Austria. A man saw me looking at the map at the edge of town and told me that "Switzerland is very expensive, camp here", so I rode north to a campground with hot showers and food and internet. I will sleep a long catchup sleep on this, the shortest night of the year, and head into Switzerland tomorrow to St Gallen. The town has a bibliotheque (library) with 150,000 volumes, many dating back 2 and 3 and 400 years. Wow!! I can't wait!! Should keep me out of trouble for a little while.... :)
Many Mercedes, Rolls Royces, Ferraris, Cadillacs, many beautiful cars were on display from many different times. Bicycles from the 1800s and early 1900s, and many racing winners, were there. Several steam trains, complete with sound and the moving of the wheels, were there. The Blue Flame, which is the first car to break the world land speed record at 622 mph, in Nevada, is there. Wow! what a place!! Visit www.technik-museum.de to see all I saw. Wow!!
Upon leaving, I rode my bike one block and what to my wondering eyes did appear but "second hand store"! I looked at books, toys, and bought a bike jersey, lighter colored shorts, and 2 light shirts. I wove my way thru the back roads to Christine's and we had lunch, then later in the day went for supper at a local tavern. I had schnietzle, which is a pork-fried steak, with lots of shredded carrots, cabbage, tomatos, cucumbers, sauce, and pomme frites, ubiquitous french fries and oh! so good! I'm going to need to bicycle a bunch to burn up all this food! At home, we visited til late, and I tasted ice wine, the first time I'd ever heard of it. This is a very special limited production of white wine, which is made from grapes which have been exposed to below freezing temperature while still on the vine. The wine is pressed from the cold grapes and there is only so much. The taste is lightly sweet and subtle, very rich- delicious isn't a big enough word for it. Only in Germany! (maybe not literally...)
Friday morning we all drove over to Heidelberg, where Christine is part of a huge quilt exhibit in the city. We all worked til noon setting up the racks and poles on which to hang the quilts her guild has made. Then Dietrich and I left to shop for a tent. First we had Thai food for lunch. I had a duck soup with orange curry, and the flavor was superb. Then we had success with a tent in a large 6 story department store. We drove up the mountain above Heidelberg and drove the scenic road home to Mauer. When Christine arrived home we stayed awake for a long time sharing stories, laughter and a great time.
Saturday morning Christine was off to the quilt show, and Dietrich and I drove south to Friedrichstrasse, in the black forest where his parents live. They are at 3000' same as Alberton, but rise from 500' only 50 miles away. Their home is in the woods, next to a nature preserve. Gorgeous and quiet, a rest from city life. Dietrich and I rode our bikes into the town, 8 miles away. It was almost all downhill, which meant....it was uphill and thru the woods back home. After supper his parents, mostly Mom, shared stories about the war, about their lives then and now. It was an undescribable gift to hear his mom talk of all these things still so close in her heart.
Today, Sunday, Father's day. A Happy happy day to you, Raymond!! Happy day to all you dad's!
Dietrich left back to Mauer, and his parents and I drove further south to the Bodensee, AKA Lake Constance. They dropped me off in Lindau, on the southeastern edge of the lake, still in Germany. I bicycled south and around the end of the lake into Austria. A man saw me looking at the map at the edge of town and told me that "Switzerland is very expensive, camp here", so I rode north to a campground with hot showers and food and internet. I will sleep a long catchup sleep on this, the shortest night of the year, and head into Switzerland tomorrow to St Gallen. The town has a bibliotheque (library) with 150,000 volumes, many dating back 2 and 3 and 400 years. Wow!! I can't wait!! Should keep me out of trouble for a little while.... :)
20 June 2009
Off to the Black Forest
Just wanted to drop a quick note to everyone before we take off. We headed off to visit Dietrich's parents in the Black Forest. The internet connection will be bad, so there is a chance I won't be able to write for a few days.
Hope all is well in the states!
Hope all is well in the states!
18 June 2009
Bibles, a palace and castles
Tuesday morning came bright and sunny, and off we went to Stuttgart, the county seat about 60 kilometers south of here (say "kill-o-meters", you don't say killagrams!). The bibliotheque (library) has a special exhibit of Bibles, including a Guttenburg (both volumes), a William Tyndale and many others. I was in heaven, no pun intended!, having wanted to see some of these for many many years. Many were held open and the paper and bindings were visible. They were arranged around a kiosk type display. The special kiosk with the Guttenburg, Tyndale and others from the 1500s and 1600s had softer lighting that the rest, and stood apart in their own way. Overall, the 70 or so Bibles were a delight, and I looked longingly at them as we left for lunch in the cafe. We had a vegetable stew and whole grain bread, and cold apple jiuce. Then we were off to the Palace at Ludwigsburg, a palace from the early 1700s. It retains 95%, get it, 95% of the original furnishings. Many have been sold through the years, and bacause they have a special mark, the country of Germany buys them back, if found, for the palace. Purchase money comes from their national lottery. We walked down each hall, in a long rectangular form, for over a mile. The rooms were full of paintings and tapestries, furniture and silk wall paper. The tour guide even took us into the Protestant chapel at the end of the tour, something she said she doesn't usually do. Magnificent!
Black forest cake and fresh hot coffee, and off to home. We drove on the famous autobahn, and as I filmed with my camera and turned toward Christine, I felt the pedal go to the floor. She laughed heartily! Sections of the autobahn have speed limits of 120k, which is only 72 mph. However, where there is no limit, always beware of your left lane! Christine has GPS and a route finder that audibly tells her where to drive, and it was comical to hear the man say the directons in German.
At home Christine cooked up fried pieces of cut noodle pockets, like a large filled manicotti, called maul tasche, and fresh salad and tomatos. We talked for some time, and I skyped the kids at home in Alberton (is skyped a verb?!), sweet babies dancing hundreds of miles away for Gramma, sweet Ray and Jen, then off to sleep.
Wednesday morning Christine went for a haircut, and we were off by bicycle to Hirschhorn to see a castle. We wound our way through the hills and fields of hog corn, wheat and orchards, towards the Neckar River. In the town of Hirschhorn, we biked through the streets and up the hill to the castle above the valley. It houses a restaurant, and we had coffee and Frankfurter cake. The cake is a light lemon bundt cake sliced into four layers, and buttercream is spread between the layers. It is frosted and brickle is put all over the outside. We went down into the valley and along the river, where we saw four castles within 1/2 mile of each other. Two of them have people living in them and all were quite beautiful. The villages are especially clean and very picturesque, with flowers in boxes at even the bus stops.
At home, Christine made bratwurst, and potatoes with quark. She boiled new potatoes and made a sour cream mixture, whipping chives and special seasonings into the sour cream. The potatoes are placed on one's plate, with a generous serving of quark, and they are eaten together. So good! It was late and I was tired, so just a short email and off to slumberland.
Black forest cake and fresh hot coffee, and off to home. We drove on the famous autobahn, and as I filmed with my camera and turned toward Christine, I felt the pedal go to the floor. She laughed heartily! Sections of the autobahn have speed limits of 120k, which is only 72 mph. However, where there is no limit, always beware of your left lane! Christine has GPS and a route finder that audibly tells her where to drive, and it was comical to hear the man say the directons in German.
At home Christine cooked up fried pieces of cut noodle pockets, like a large filled manicotti, called maul tasche, and fresh salad and tomatos. We talked for some time, and I skyped the kids at home in Alberton (is skyped a verb?!), sweet babies dancing hundreds of miles away for Gramma, sweet Ray and Jen, then off to sleep.
Wednesday morning Christine went for a haircut, and we were off by bicycle to Hirschhorn to see a castle. We wound our way through the hills and fields of hog corn, wheat and orchards, towards the Neckar River. In the town of Hirschhorn, we biked through the streets and up the hill to the castle above the valley. It houses a restaurant, and we had coffee and Frankfurter cake. The cake is a light lemon bundt cake sliced into four layers, and buttercream is spread between the layers. It is frosted and brickle is put all over the outside. We went down into the valley and along the river, where we saw four castles within 1/2 mile of each other. Two of them have people living in them and all were quite beautiful. The villages are especially clean and very picturesque, with flowers in boxes at even the bus stops.
At home, Christine made bratwurst, and potatoes with quark. She boiled new potatoes and made a sour cream mixture, whipping chives and special seasonings into the sour cream. The potatoes are placed on one's plate, with a generous serving of quark, and they are eaten together. So good! It was late and I was tired, so just a short email and off to slumberland.
17 June 2009
Travels and life in Germany
Sunday morning I awoke for coffee, croissants, toast and a beautiful morning with Dietrich and Christine. They own the third floor of their building, the "penthouse". Two balconies overlook the valley surrounding them, with the church steeple rising off in the distance. Dietrich plays saxophone in a local band of about 25 members, and today was their time playing for a couple hours at their regular fundraiser. We picked up some of the band and went to near the banks of the Rhine River where they played. I drank a light German wheat beer, and ate a fried pork steak with pommes frites. German french fries, believed locally to have been "created" in Belgium, not France, are fried, drained, and fried a second time. Crunchy! I walked to the banks of the Rhine, and watched water skiers, motor boaters and large barges make their way around the river. Except for barges as long as a football field, it reminded me of Flathead Lake.
An older couple across from me tried to speak with me, but neither of us spoke the others language. When Dietrich took a break, he translated, and then they tried harder to speak with me. I drew a map and said Amsterdam, they nodded Yes! and then I drew the ocean to the west. I motioned that I'd gone swimming, and they looked puzzled, then smiled abd shrugged. She has a cousin in Louisiana who doesn't speak German and wondered, would I look up this cousin and tell them we'd met? She wrote down her address, and in German, wished for my continued safety and happy travels.
In the evening we went to a barbeque at a friends house. We ate barbequed shrimo, chicken, and sausages. Some sausage had herbs in it, and Christine had skewered them into a round and they were cooked. Very tasty. Their little chicuahua, Martini, was about 8 pounds, black with large ears, 5 months old and quite playful. He arrived at Christine's Monday morning for babysitting for the morning.
Monday I bicycled north and west to Heidelberg, about 20 kilometers away. I found several bike shops and bought my own helmet, then set out for book shops. I found several, one with books along the front window ledge outside. The sign read "1 book
3 euros, 4 books 10 euros. There were many interesting books and some in the window were expensive British books on gardens. I had coffee and a custard filled rhubarb struedel on the sidewalk, and it rained briefly, warm rain. I traveled up the hill to Heidelberg castle, and was caught in a torrential downpour. Rain followed me down the steps and ran over my shoes as it spilled further down the hill and into the Neckar river, which is as wide and large as the Clark Fork and very muddy green and brown. I bicycled my way back along it and up over the hill above Mauer. It continued to rain, and a hot shower and coffee was waiting for me at the house. We enjoyed flat ribbon noodles with tomato sauce, and fresh salad from the balcony garden for supper. The family visiting was sweet and reminded me of home.
A hour on the "phone" through Skype with the kids- I l-o-v-e technology!- and off to sleep. Tomorrow it's a Bible exhibit and a palace.
An older couple across from me tried to speak with me, but neither of us spoke the others language. When Dietrich took a break, he translated, and then they tried harder to speak with me. I drew a map and said Amsterdam, they nodded Yes! and then I drew the ocean to the west. I motioned that I'd gone swimming, and they looked puzzled, then smiled abd shrugged. She has a cousin in Louisiana who doesn't speak German and wondered, would I look up this cousin and tell them we'd met? She wrote down her address, and in German, wished for my continued safety and happy travels.
In the evening we went to a barbeque at a friends house. We ate barbequed shrimo, chicken, and sausages. Some sausage had herbs in it, and Christine had skewered them into a round and they were cooked. Very tasty. Their little chicuahua, Martini, was about 8 pounds, black with large ears, 5 months old and quite playful. He arrived at Christine's Monday morning for babysitting for the morning.
Monday I bicycled north and west to Heidelberg, about 20 kilometers away. I found several bike shops and bought my own helmet, then set out for book shops. I found several, one with books along the front window ledge outside. The sign read "1 book
3 euros, 4 books 10 euros. There were many interesting books and some in the window were expensive British books on gardens. I had coffee and a custard filled rhubarb struedel on the sidewalk, and it rained briefly, warm rain. I traveled up the hill to Heidelberg castle, and was caught in a torrential downpour. Rain followed me down the steps and ran over my shoes as it spilled further down the hill and into the Neckar river, which is as wide and large as the Clark Fork and very muddy green and brown. I bicycled my way back along it and up over the hill above Mauer. It continued to rain, and a hot shower and coffee was waiting for me at the house. We enjoyed flat ribbon noodles with tomato sauce, and fresh salad from the balcony garden for supper. The family visiting was sweet and reminded me of home.
A hour on the "phone" through Skype with the kids- I l-o-v-e technology!- and off to sleep. Tomorrow it's a Bible exhibit and a palace.
16 June 2009
Off to Germany again, but further south
Jeannette and I were up before 9 and set out to buy groceries. We went to the Albert Heijn market in an upscale town nearby. Jeannette explained many local groceries to me, including Vla, dutch pudding in a carton. It comes in vanilla, chocolate, caramel/butterscotch and other flavors, and is richer and creamier than American pudding. We had eaten the pudding at her house for a treat after supper.There were many cheeses, sliced meats, many kinds of bread and cookies. I asked about peanut butter cookies and she said peanut butter is sometimes eaten on bread but never in a cookie. There were various treats for children, including sprinkles that are put on buttered toast for children as an early food. We bought bread, "milche", cheese, eel!- a typical dutch treat-, apples, espresso, and off we went. I packed for the train and just made it in time, for we weren't certain on these winding dutch roads just how far the station in Bussum was. It was hugs to Jeannette and so many thanks for such a wonderful time- incredible!!
After a short ride I switched to the train to Osnabruk. A couple asked about my travels and were very interested in Dad's story. The man even knew of B-17s and the war. He and his wife were delighted woth my visit to Mr Zwanenburg, and Dad's circumstances that brought himback to Holland. He told me "those young men from England and America were heroes to us in Holland, fighting for our freedom."
In Osnabruk I switched trains again and had a nervewracking 30 minute wait. I had bought a ticket for my bike in Amsterdam to Heidelberg, but didn't have a reservaton for it from here on. Jeannette suggested I board the train with it and see if there was room. I prayed while I waited...and waited...the train was late, a first. The train before mine had a trainman who kept wiping his brow and putting his hand to his head as if to say "Oh! I can't believe it's late!" When it pulled in, I put my bike in wagon #7 and had to squeeze it between the full line of bikes and the wall. The trainman asked for my ticket, so I gave him my first class Eurail pass, then my reservations. He looked at them both, looked around, studied the tickets, then stamped them and said "Okay." Whew!!This is the only part of European travel I have found to be tense, and that is the reservations on trains. Especially for bikes. At the next stop, 2 bikes left, so I moved my bike into place and was set.
On the way down to Heidelberg we passed through the beautiful Mossel Valley. After so much flat land it was a delight for these Montana eyes. The mountains rose gently above the valley, and after having never seen a European castle except in books, I saw several within the hour. They were perched high on the hillsides, with very difficult access. Many hillsides had rows upon rows of grape vineyards. This is very beautiful country indeed.
9:34pm (21:34 German time!) I arrived at the station. We hadn't talked with Dietrich for a few days, so he wasn't at the station (he didn't know I was at the station-duh!). I asked a man nearby for help using the phone to find Dietrich's phone # and he was extrememly helpful. When we couldn't find it in the directory, I told him I could find it online if he knew where an internet cafe was. He said "sure, I'll drive you to one nearby." I locked up my bike and went for a ride in....an.....
Alpha Romeo Spyder convertible! Shiny black, with the top down. Sweet!! The man is a doctor in Heidelberg and lives in an old part of town, near the internet cafe. Twenty minutes later I was back at the station and Dietrich and Christine were on their way.
After a short ride I switched to the train to Osnabruk. A couple asked about my travels and were very interested in Dad's story. The man even knew of B-17s and the war. He and his wife were delighted woth my visit to Mr Zwanenburg, and Dad's circumstances that brought himback to Holland. He told me "those young men from England and America were heroes to us in Holland, fighting for our freedom."
In Osnabruk I switched trains again and had a nervewracking 30 minute wait. I had bought a ticket for my bike in Amsterdam to Heidelberg, but didn't have a reservaton for it from here on. Jeannette suggested I board the train with it and see if there was room. I prayed while I waited...and waited...the train was late, a first. The train before mine had a trainman who kept wiping his brow and putting his hand to his head as if to say "Oh! I can't believe it's late!" When it pulled in, I put my bike in wagon #7 and had to squeeze it between the full line of bikes and the wall. The trainman asked for my ticket, so I gave him my first class Eurail pass, then my reservations. He looked at them both, looked around, studied the tickets, then stamped them and said "Okay." Whew!!This is the only part of European travel I have found to be tense, and that is the reservations on trains. Especially for bikes. At the next stop, 2 bikes left, so I moved my bike into place and was set.
On the way down to Heidelberg we passed through the beautiful Mossel Valley. After so much flat land it was a delight for these Montana eyes. The mountains rose gently above the valley, and after having never seen a European castle except in books, I saw several within the hour. They were perched high on the hillsides, with very difficult access. Many hillsides had rows upon rows of grape vineyards. This is very beautiful country indeed.
9:34pm (21:34 German time!) I arrived at the station. We hadn't talked with Dietrich for a few days, so he wasn't at the station (he didn't know I was at the station-duh!). I asked a man nearby for help using the phone to find Dietrich's phone # and he was extrememly helpful. When we couldn't find it in the directory, I told him I could find it online if he knew where an internet cafe was. He said "sure, I'll drive you to one nearby." I locked up my bike and went for a ride in....an.....
Alpha Romeo Spyder convertible! Shiny black, with the top down. Sweet!! The man is a doctor in Heidelberg and lives in an old part of town, near the internet cafe. Twenty minutes later I was back at the station and Dietrich and Christine were on their way.
14 June 2009
Amsterdam, Holland Friday June 12
When Jeannette and I left Mr and Mrs Zwannenburg, she told me he said a few times that "I look at her and I see her father. She looks like him."
We went up tp a campground 15 or 20 kilometers from Baarn. The place had a large center where people set up their "caravans" for the summer and camp. At the edge around the property is a wooded area where we seet up a tent. Someone later said, Oh! you are in the forest! Jeannette left to visit a friend and I talked with two men from Manchester who were looking for a beer, but the restaurant was closed. They had flown over for a 7 day bicycle holiday through wildlands, and the one complained, I bought new padded shorts but my bum is still sore! He said to remember when I went to the Scottish highlands that "they 'ave midgies there", little no-see-ums. He said "an old fond torture was to tie you out naked in the square and leave you there, to let the midgies 'ave you!" People use nets over their heads to protect themselves. Forewarned!
In the morning it was off to the train and to Amsterdam. The buildings are old, tall, large, colorful, solid, impressive. We went to a herring stand, where the traditional way to eat a herring is raw, fresh, with chopped onions and stright up and down the the hatch. Jeannette told me to put my chin up, neck out, look up and eat. So I did, almost got it right except for the sticking out of my tongue. We had cappucino in a coffee shop at the edge of the city square, and a couple was smoking cannabis in front of us. A man palyed guitar and sang, people laughed, the sun was warm and bright after recent rain.
We walked through the town and every so often would smell marijuana drifting from a building. We stopped at one "coffee" shop where they had a menu for their product, for attitude, taste, size. We made pictures of it and the accompanying pipes and bongs. We walked through a couple streets of the red light district, very sad to look in the eyes of some of the women. The buildings everywhere are old, usually 200 years plus. We rode the tour boat through the city and made lots of pictures, of a church begun in the 1300s and it was still being built on in the 1500s, of homes, political buildings, of businesses. There are many miles of canals throughout Amsterdam, and so many very old buildings. In olden times the buildings were taxed on the width so they were built narrow and deep and tall to pay less tax. The canals have a low rail to prevent cars from rolling into the canals but an average of one a week goes in. Once a year the city removes bicycles from the canals and collects hundreds.
We made arrangements for my train for Saturday, and left to go west to the North Sea. We went to Haarlem, then Zandvoort, a beach town on the ocean. I went swimming and loved it, being a little warmer than up north, and it was delightful. I rode the waves in and out a few times, and reluctantly got out. Wonderful!!
We took the train back through Amsterdam, posted cards, and rode back to Bussum, where we were camping. The night was chilly, and we each had several layers to keep us warm in the tent. What a different and incredibly r-i-c-h day!
We went up tp a campground 15 or 20 kilometers from Baarn. The place had a large center where people set up their "caravans" for the summer and camp. At the edge around the property is a wooded area where we seet up a tent. Someone later said, Oh! you are in the forest! Jeannette left to visit a friend and I talked with two men from Manchester who were looking for a beer, but the restaurant was closed. They had flown over for a 7 day bicycle holiday through wildlands, and the one complained, I bought new padded shorts but my bum is still sore! He said to remember when I went to the Scottish highlands that "they 'ave midgies there", little no-see-ums. He said "an old fond torture was to tie you out naked in the square and leave you there, to let the midgies 'ave you!" People use nets over their heads to protect themselves. Forewarned!
In the morning it was off to the train and to Amsterdam. The buildings are old, tall, large, colorful, solid, impressive. We went to a herring stand, where the traditional way to eat a herring is raw, fresh, with chopped onions and stright up and down the the hatch. Jeannette told me to put my chin up, neck out, look up and eat. So I did, almost got it right except for the sticking out of my tongue. We had cappucino in a coffee shop at the edge of the city square, and a couple was smoking cannabis in front of us. A man palyed guitar and sang, people laughed, the sun was warm and bright after recent rain.
We walked through the town and every so often would smell marijuana drifting from a building. We stopped at one "coffee" shop where they had a menu for their product, for attitude, taste, size. We made pictures of it and the accompanying pipes and bongs. We walked through a couple streets of the red light district, very sad to look in the eyes of some of the women. The buildings everywhere are old, usually 200 years plus. We rode the tour boat through the city and made lots of pictures, of a church begun in the 1300s and it was still being built on in the 1500s, of homes, political buildings, of businesses. There are many miles of canals throughout Amsterdam, and so many very old buildings. In olden times the buildings were taxed on the width so they were built narrow and deep and tall to pay less tax. The canals have a low rail to prevent cars from rolling into the canals but an average of one a week goes in. Once a year the city removes bicycles from the canals and collects hundreds.
We made arrangements for my train for Saturday, and left to go west to the North Sea. We went to Haarlem, then Zandvoort, a beach town on the ocean. I went swimming and loved it, being a little warmer than up north, and it was delightful. I rode the waves in and out a few times, and reluctantly got out. Wonderful!!
We took the train back through Amsterdam, posted cards, and rode back to Bussum, where we were camping. The night was chilly, and we each had several layers to keep us warm in the tent. What a different and incredibly r-i-c-h day!
13 June 2009
Mr Gerrit Zwanenburg
Thursday morning I awoke with the rain that began after midnight last night. It continued in ernest as I looked for a laundry to wash my clothes. I found Timmers laundry service, and they washed my one load while I drack great coffee and waited. At their midmorning break 5 workers sat with me and aswked why I was in Europe. They listened with much interest as I told them Dad's story and mine. I showed them the news articles, pictures of the book store, answered their questions. Awhile later I met Jeannette at the train and off we went, map in hand, to find Mr Zwanenburg.
When we pulled our bikes into his courtyard, he immediately opened the door and greeted us with warmth. He took my hand in his and smiled and welcomed us in. He and his wife, 81 and 82 yrs old, are both tall, 6'. Both are still vibrant and bright and very much alive.
Mr Zwanenburg began to talk about Dad, and his tears began to flow. He said that the day Dad was shot down, he and his brother heard anti-aircraft firing shooting at Dad's plane and hurried to the crash sight. They found Dad's life vest and parachute. Dad and Lt Roger's were already gone, taken by the German soldiers to the police station in Harlingen. Mr Z was 15 and his brother, 4 years younger at the time. Because his brother was smaller, they put Dad's vest in his coat and under his jacket and took it home. He said the parachute was too large and dangerous to take with them. He didn't see Dad til 26 1/2 years later, when he returned in 1970. At that time, Dad went right away to the police station, because he remembered it from December 16, 1943. It turns out the station is 4 doors down from where Mrs Z lived as a young girl, and across the street from where Mr Z lived. If he had been home that day, he would've seen Dad as he was led in for interrogation.
Mr Zwanenburg said, "I have something for you" and handed me two letters Dad had written to him after their visit in 1970. Also there is a letter written by my Mom to him in July 1970. He also gave me a photo copy of Dad's plane, the Holy Mackeral. It shows the nose art of a fish blowing air bubbles up through his halo.
We watched a 15 minute video of Mr Z talking with the sister of an American man shot down during the war, whose remains were found in a plane recovered by Mr Z. He showed me some of his war writings, some of his extensive library, and other things he found from the war.
Da's letter sums up the meeting quite eloquently, although Dad thought he stumbled. He was thanking Gerrit for the time they had together. He wrote, "The departure from Holland that just occurred for me has just made me realize the change that took place in my feelings while I was there. When I came, my heart was all for what had happened to me so long ago there. The hard and brave times for you people in the war were never known to me until this trip. Now I realize that I love not only my part of Holland's was but Holland and the people there who have loved me also.....What I am trying unsuccessfully to say is that I thank you now because I realize that you have caused me to love you whom I know there and your charming and fine country. I love too few things in this world as it is, and I thank you for giving me another one. My emotions on departure surprised me and made me see all this. It will make me continue to be happy if I am able to find books you can use and that make you happy. Thank you again not only for an unbelievable trip but for a new-found affection. Good hunting and happy landings! Ken Wales
When we pulled our bikes into his courtyard, he immediately opened the door and greeted us with warmth. He took my hand in his and smiled and welcomed us in. He and his wife, 81 and 82 yrs old, are both tall, 6'. Both are still vibrant and bright and very much alive.
Mr Zwanenburg began to talk about Dad, and his tears began to flow. He said that the day Dad was shot down, he and his brother heard anti-aircraft firing shooting at Dad's plane and hurried to the crash sight. They found Dad's life vest and parachute. Dad and Lt Roger's were already gone, taken by the German soldiers to the police station in Harlingen. Mr Z was 15 and his brother, 4 years younger at the time. Because his brother was smaller, they put Dad's vest in his coat and under his jacket and took it home. He said the parachute was too large and dangerous to take with them. He didn't see Dad til 26 1/2 years later, when he returned in 1970. At that time, Dad went right away to the police station, because he remembered it from December 16, 1943. It turns out the station is 4 doors down from where Mrs Z lived as a young girl, and across the street from where Mr Z lived. If he had been home that day, he would've seen Dad as he was led in for interrogation.
Mr Zwanenburg said, "I have something for you" and handed me two letters Dad had written to him after their visit in 1970. Also there is a letter written by my Mom to him in July 1970. He also gave me a photo copy of Dad's plane, the Holy Mackeral. It shows the nose art of a fish blowing air bubbles up through his halo.
We watched a 15 minute video of Mr Z talking with the sister of an American man shot down during the war, whose remains were found in a plane recovered by Mr Z. He showed me some of his war writings, some of his extensive library, and other things he found from the war.
Da's letter sums up the meeting quite eloquently, although Dad thought he stumbled. He was thanking Gerrit for the time they had together. He wrote, "The departure from Holland that just occurred for me has just made me realize the change that took place in my feelings while I was there. When I came, my heart was all for what had happened to me so long ago there. The hard and brave times for you people in the war were never known to me until this trip. Now I realize that I love not only my part of Holland's was but Holland and the people there who have loved me also.....What I am trying unsuccessfully to say is that I thank you now because I realize that you have caused me to love you whom I know there and your charming and fine country. I love too few things in this world as it is, and I thank you for giving me another one. My emotions on departure surprised me and made me see all this. It will make me continue to be happy if I am able to find books you can use and that make you happy. Thank you again not only for an unbelievable trip but for a new-found affection. Good hunting and happy landings! Ken Wales
12 June 2009
11 June 2009
Wednesday in Barth
Tuesday evening I had supper at a Hotel in Barth. I called Helga Radau, a 68 yr old woman who was born and raised and lived in Barth her whole life. She put on an amazing exhibit of the prison camp, and I met with her Wednesday morning to go to the camp. While I worked on the internet, she read through Dad's war log. We then left to go a few blocks to the exhibit. 68, and she hopped on that bike like a kid. I stopped for bread and milk, then we were off. A moment later, there was a loud crash behind us. Helga slowed and stopped to look, and I had my right foot clipped into my pedal. As I got near her, the bike fell to theground with me attached. Two men came scurrying to help stand me up, and I kept muttering Ow! ow! Later she said I heard a loud sound and thought it was you! I said And then it WAS me!!
She has about 30 logs similar to Dad's in her collection, and showed me many, allowing me to make pictures of them. She then walked me through her exhibit and told me of it, the original plaque which only said the prisoners were liberated by the Russians. Huh?!? She was effective in writing a new plaque, which says more about the prisoners from the United States and Britain, and that "what happened will not be forgotten". As she told me some of the occurrences in the camp-escape attemts (she has a picture of a man standing in front of a building, and there is an escape hole beneath the bldg's corner right behind him!), the commondandts of the camp- one called "the butcher" and much hated-, as she told me stories the hair rose on my arms. The meanness of mankind to others....I videoed her telling one story, and videoed the covers of many books on Stalag Luft 1, including one by Missoula's own Hubert Zemke! My time with Helga was incredible, and we will stay in touch. We gave each other a strong warm hug when I left, as she called out, "success!!"
I boarded the train to Baarn, and had to buy a ticket for my bike. In Hamburg, the ticket agents were most helpful and got me a faster connection for me to arrive in Baarn by 11pm. When switching trains in Munchen, I pushed my bike onto the train and thought I was on a baggage train in Calcutta. Yes, India! There were bags all over the floor, people filling most every available space, and a German lad sitting on a crate of beer, with an open one in his hand! A little while later I asked if he spoke English, asked if I could make a picture of him. Yes!! He and his 6 friends have a 4 day holiday (weekend) so are going to camp out and spend time in Holland. They all talked with me and laughed and shared stories and information on their lives.
At one stop a junkie and her boyfriend got on with a dog and bike, and the man tried to pick a fight with the young man talking with me. The young man said he was trying to provoke conversation, not a fight. I said His bike is a Hercules, maybe he thinks HE is Hercules! The young man said In germany we have a saying, the bigger the car, the smaller the-" and he looked down between his legs. His friend said "how you say, family jewels?!" He had a very mischievious grin and we all laughed and laughed! I made 2 pictures of them all together before they left the train.
I made good connections the rest of the way, and met a sweet family with several children from Nashville. Mom was middle eastern, and the youngest boy, 6 or so, was Sammy! I made a ppicture also of them. What a wonderful delightful day!!
She has about 30 logs similar to Dad's in her collection, and showed me many, allowing me to make pictures of them. She then walked me through her exhibit and told me of it, the original plaque which only said the prisoners were liberated by the Russians. Huh?!? She was effective in writing a new plaque, which says more about the prisoners from the United States and Britain, and that "what happened will not be forgotten". As she told me some of the occurrences in the camp-escape attemts (she has a picture of a man standing in front of a building, and there is an escape hole beneath the bldg's corner right behind him!), the commondandts of the camp- one called "the butcher" and much hated-, as she told me stories the hair rose on my arms. The meanness of mankind to others....I videoed her telling one story, and videoed the covers of many books on Stalag Luft 1, including one by Missoula's own Hubert Zemke! My time with Helga was incredible, and we will stay in touch. We gave each other a strong warm hug when I left, as she called out, "success!!"
I boarded the train to Baarn, and had to buy a ticket for my bike. In Hamburg, the ticket agents were most helpful and got me a faster connection for me to arrive in Baarn by 11pm. When switching trains in Munchen, I pushed my bike onto the train and thought I was on a baggage train in Calcutta. Yes, India! There were bags all over the floor, people filling most every available space, and a German lad sitting on a crate of beer, with an open one in his hand! A little while later I asked if he spoke English, asked if I could make a picture of him. Yes!! He and his 6 friends have a 4 day holiday (weekend) so are going to camp out and spend time in Holland. They all talked with me and laughed and shared stories and information on their lives.
At one stop a junkie and her boyfriend got on with a dog and bike, and the man tried to pick a fight with the young man talking with me. The young man said he was trying to provoke conversation, not a fight. I said His bike is a Hercules, maybe he thinks HE is Hercules! The young man said In germany we have a saying, the bigger the car, the smaller the-" and he looked down between his legs. His friend said "how you say, family jewels?!" He had a very mischievious grin and we all laughed and laughed! I made 2 pictures of them all together before they left the train.
I made good connections the rest of the way, and met a sweet family with several children from Nashville. Mom was middle eastern, and the youngest boy, 6 or so, was Sammy! I made a ppicture also of them. What a wonderful delightful day!!
09 June 2009
Southern German tourists called me cowboy tourist!
Yesterday I left Jeannette's and boarded the train to the Barth. Or so I thought. She timed it that I had a quick connection in Bremer and had reservations for me and for my bike. The ticket agent to whom I was pointed (next time just go to the regular ones, the special ones run you around!) said 'I don't speak English, go to him' pointed me to the hall. That guy said 'you can't do this' I said 'Yes I can I already paid' so he said 'wait in line.' That guy was good, he printed my tickets but now the train was gone. Agh!! I pedaled around Bremen for 3 hours, ate German food, found out the ONLY German food I could find that the northern Germans eat is bratwurst and pommes fritz- French fries! Gee, I could get that at home! They were good, though. Went to a huge book store, went to my first European thrift shop, nice cloths, no books, all clothes!
On the train I met a nice couple from Stuttgart who were traveling by bike around where I now am, staying in hotels (lots of stars hotels!). When he heard I was biking some long days and would camp out if the weather was nice, he shook his head with a smile and said 'you are a cowboy! A Montana cowboy!' Finally made it to Rostock too late for the train to Barth. So I was up early this morn to bicycle there. The man who tore the map out of his book for me to use kept walking out the door to look at my bike, then shake his head and say 'it is many kilometers to Barth, many many kilometers.'
A couple hours into the ride, I had stopped for coffee, bought 2 bananas for €.92 and a liter of milk for €.42-hmmm!- and was on my way when the bike trail stopped. One is NOT allowed to bike on raods where a sign says don't, and I didn't want to be writing you all from prison. So I took the nice man's map and promptly doubled back on my route without knowing. When the road led through the forest, and I heard a chain saw, I followed the sound and found, 4 sawyers. Wow, just like home! They all watched me traipse into the woods where they were, I ask 'do you speak English?' 'a little'. So I ask about the road, showing him my map, and he responds all in German! (well, after all, he IS German!). He shows me the way out of 'the forest', and then I tell him I'm American. He smiles, I say Montana! and he really smiles, and I show him pictures of the book store and 'my house'. He was very happy, saying 'Ahh!' about the mountains and kept oohing and ahhing. I received another more detailed map for my efforts, and as I left he laughs and says 'American!' as he shakes his head. I tell ya, I couldn't've found 4 sawyers since I left home if you promised me a million bucks!
I finally made it to Barth and went straightaway to the memorial. It made me cry to think of Dad's time there, to think of the sadness of all those men. I wandered through the woods on a trail for quite a ways, and felt peace when I left the woods. No buildings remain, so it's hard to picture where everything was. However, I also went to an exhibit here in Barth about the camp, and there is a model of it. There is also a whole board commemorating Hubert Zemke of Missoula. Wow!
So now it's off to the Youth Hostel and to see what other trouble I can conjure up!
On the train I met a nice couple from Stuttgart who were traveling by bike around where I now am, staying in hotels (lots of stars hotels!). When he heard I was biking some long days and would camp out if the weather was nice, he shook his head with a smile and said 'you are a cowboy! A Montana cowboy!' Finally made it to Rostock too late for the train to Barth. So I was up early this morn to bicycle there. The man who tore the map out of his book for me to use kept walking out the door to look at my bike, then shake his head and say 'it is many kilometers to Barth, many many kilometers.'
A couple hours into the ride, I had stopped for coffee, bought 2 bananas for €.92 and a liter of milk for €.42-hmmm!- and was on my way when the bike trail stopped. One is NOT allowed to bike on raods where a sign says don't, and I didn't want to be writing you all from prison. So I took the nice man's map and promptly doubled back on my route without knowing. When the road led through the forest, and I heard a chain saw, I followed the sound and found, 4 sawyers. Wow, just like home! They all watched me traipse into the woods where they were, I ask 'do you speak English?' 'a little'. So I ask about the road, showing him my map, and he responds all in German! (well, after all, he IS German!). He shows me the way out of 'the forest', and then I tell him I'm American. He smiles, I say Montana! and he really smiles, and I show him pictures of the book store and 'my house'. He was very happy, saying 'Ahh!' about the mountains and kept oohing and ahhing. I received another more detailed map for my efforts, and as I left he laughs and says 'American!' as he shakes his head. I tell ya, I couldn't've found 4 sawyers since I left home if you promised me a million bucks!
I finally made it to Barth and went straightaway to the memorial. It made me cry to think of Dad's time there, to think of the sadness of all those men. I wandered through the woods on a trail for quite a ways, and felt peace when I left the woods. No buildings remain, so it's hard to picture where everything was. However, I also went to an exhibit here in Barth about the camp, and there is a model of it. There is also a whole board commemorating Hubert Zemke of Missoula. Wow!
So now it's off to the Youth Hostel and to see what other trouble I can conjure up!
08 June 2009
I'm lost in cyberspace in Rostock Germany
Can only say that I don't have time to post but a note, bad Internet connections, will post soon.
07 June 2009
So east to Barth first, then to Mr Zwanenberg
Today was an exciting day, with the news of Mr Zwanenberg. Jeannette later said, Oh! he is clever! He is so clever! Meaning he has his full mind about him. She has a meeting Thursday afternoon around 4 near, like very near, where he is, so we will all meet together. I'm not sure if he speaks English- many older Hollanders do not- so Jeannette will work to translate if need be and help with the conversation. Wow!
We had some lunch, simple things like the sliced meats and fresh hearty cheeses, sliced tomatos and cucumbers, heavy bread. Jeannette said one hefts bread here- holds it to calculate weight- and the heavier, the more substantial. We had fresh pasta cooked with mushrooms, tomatos, olives, with slices of fresh strong cheese on it, salad and red wine for dinner. The coffee here is fabulous. Many people own a Phillips Senseo machine, which makes espresso quickly, with coffee in a bag (like a tea bag), and it's delicious. They even have a small container to hold some milk and "froth" it by whisking rapidly, then spoon over the coffee. Cinnamon, cocoa, and it's fresher, hotter and tastier than bought out.
I went out to bicycle to the center of town today, and the bikes here are literally everywhere. Babies will ride in the front with a clear plastic windscreen, teens, ride with a friend sitting astride sidesaddle behind them, looking very relaxed with their hands folded in their laps. People use cell phones and ride, some smoke cigarettes!, they even read books while riding! Today a man in his 60s was next to me waiting at the light, and when it changed, he "blew my doors in"! Off he went in a scurry!
I slept for a half hour around 6 before Dietrich called. When I told him of Mr Zwanenberg and my considerations- go south, then north, then south, he said he had to work 4 days this week. That clinched it for me to go east to Barth first. It is on the North Sea, but here they divide that sea by North and East. So it is warmer than the Zuider Zee, which is part of the North Sea, so yeah! more swimming! I will leave in the morning by 10 I think. Jeannette has made all the train connections and reservations for me (could she travel with me for a few more weeks please?!!) and for my bicycle. When I leave Leeuwarden, I travel east to Leer, then through the border to Bremen, Germany (Dad's plane dropped bombs over Bremen or Bremenhaven just north on the day he was shot down). Then on to Hamburg- no, I won't probably buy a hamburger, thank you!- Rostock and Barth. I have wheels, so I can travel to and through the towns. The land is flat and easy to bike, and very beautiful. I will read tomorrow myself how to load pictures onto the computer and off to you all.
We had some lunch, simple things like the sliced meats and fresh hearty cheeses, sliced tomatos and cucumbers, heavy bread. Jeannette said one hefts bread here- holds it to calculate weight- and the heavier, the more substantial. We had fresh pasta cooked with mushrooms, tomatos, olives, with slices of fresh strong cheese on it, salad and red wine for dinner. The coffee here is fabulous. Many people own a Phillips Senseo machine, which makes espresso quickly, with coffee in a bag (like a tea bag), and it's delicious. They even have a small container to hold some milk and "froth" it by whisking rapidly, then spoon over the coffee. Cinnamon, cocoa, and it's fresher, hotter and tastier than bought out.
I went out to bicycle to the center of town today, and the bikes here are literally everywhere. Babies will ride in the front with a clear plastic windscreen, teens, ride with a friend sitting astride sidesaddle behind them, looking very relaxed with their hands folded in their laps. People use cell phones and ride, some smoke cigarettes!, they even read books while riding! Today a man in his 60s was next to me waiting at the light, and when it changed, he "blew my doors in"! Off he went in a scurry!
I slept for a half hour around 6 before Dietrich called. When I told him of Mr Zwanenberg and my considerations- go south, then north, then south, he said he had to work 4 days this week. That clinched it for me to go east to Barth first. It is on the North Sea, but here they divide that sea by North and East. So it is warmer than the Zuider Zee, which is part of the North Sea, so yeah! more swimming! I will leave in the morning by 10 I think. Jeannette has made all the train connections and reservations for me (could she travel with me for a few more weeks please?!!) and for my bicycle. When I leave Leeuwarden, I travel east to Leer, then through the border to Bremen, Germany (Dad's plane dropped bombs over Bremen or Bremenhaven just north on the day he was shot down). Then on to Hamburg- no, I won't probably buy a hamburger, thank you!- Rostock and Barth. I have wheels, so I can travel to and through the towns. The land is flat and easy to bike, and very beautiful. I will read tomorrow myself how to load pictures onto the computer and off to you all.
I'm going on Thursday to meet Mr Zwanenburg
While I was bicycling to Harlingen yesterday, Jeannette reread the articles I brought with me about Dad in 1970. She decided she could find out perhaps about Mr Zwanenburg through Google, which I tried last winter. She told me today that she doesn't know quite how it happened, but she found him in Baarn, 81 years old and with an address and phone. Jeannette was concerned that he might be frail of health or more importantly, mind.
Today she finally decided, Now! Let's call! His wife answered the phone, they talked, and then she spoke with him! Her face was all aglow and happy. When Jeannette said "yes, 9 children" I knew he remembered Dad. He wants to meet me on Thursday, and said he still has a letter from Dad. When Jeannette hung up the phone we hugged and she said "I've been brought into this story through you, and it is so exciting! I have, how you say, bumpy flesh?" She said, he sounds so strong, so intelligent, so sound, and his wife too.
So it's off to Dietrich and Christine's for a few days, then north to Baarn and he will meet me at the train Thursday afternoon. Wow! I'm speechless. I will write down all the questions I can think of before you go, and hopefully you all have some also.
Today she finally decided, Now! Let's call! His wife answered the phone, they talked, and then she spoke with him! Her face was all aglow and happy. When Jeannette said "yes, 9 children" I knew he remembered Dad. He wants to meet me on Thursday, and said he still has a letter from Dad. When Jeannette hung up the phone we hugged and she said "I've been brought into this story through you, and it is so exciting! I have, how you say, bumpy flesh?" She said, he sounds so strong, so intelligent, so sound, and his wife too.
So it's off to Dietrich and Christine's for a few days, then north to Baarn and he will meet me at the train Thursday afternoon. Wow! I'm speechless. I will write down all the questions I can think of before you go, and hopefully you all have some also.
06 June 2009
Today I swam in the Zuider Zee!
I am staying in Leeuwarden, a town of 100,000 in the north of Holland. Jeannette Madema is a friend I met on a bicycling hospitality website called warmshowers.org. People who bicycle, travel and stay with those who offer a warm shower and safe place for tent, couch sleeping, and one's bicycle. Jeannette spent two years traveling from Alaska to the southern parts of South America by bike with a friend a few years ago, and enjoys the world of bicycling.
After I purchased a Dutch touring bike today (sweet or what!) we had lunch here at her house. She then provided me maps of how to travel west to Harlingen, the town near which my Dad landed when shot down from his B-17 bomber in WW2. We guessed Harlingen to be about 30 kilometers from here one way, about 18 miles. I set off rather late, 3pm, and headed west with a tailwind. I arrived after 4, and spent lots of time biking up and down the streets, many of which are on canals, and have buildings well over 100 years old. I rode to the sea, now dammed up with an ocean wall, still full of ocean water, the old name of Zuider Zee. Many companies handling storage containers and ocean shipping do business there. I kept looking for a place to swim (hey Ray!) and didn't see one immediately. I biked south to where I was near the 1 mile south and 3/4 mile inland where Dad had been shot down. I found a few empty fields nearby, saw a tiny panel wagon like the one he bought in 1972 for book travels, and took pictures. I found small pink roses along the roadway and picked a few. Then, going north, I saw a bicyclist go up along a walking path above the seawall. I pulled my bike up the embankment and there was the open sea!! With a footpath along the seawall/damwall, I went south out of view, and in I swam- three swims out and under and back. Salty wonderful ocean water, cold and refreshing. Even took a couple of pictures for proof :) I'll download them in Germany at my friend's.
Then the trip back, and it's after 8pm. On the way I got turned around and asked a man on a bicycle for help to Leeuwarden. He kept pointing the way and then said "would you like coffee? Come!" So I had coffee with Jacob Beuker and his wife from Yugoslavia, older and neither of them spoke but a few words of English. When he saw my wet hair and I told where I'd swum, he motioned, Do you want to wash it off and shower? I said No! I must be going! His coffee was strong and delicious, and his wife gave me three apples, a banana, rice cakes and sweet frosted cookies. She kept trying to get me to eat bread with the frozen strawberry cake she'd given me already.
Back on the road, with the dynamo lights which operate when you turn the switch on and the bike is pedaled. Thank goodness for lights, for I got turned around once more near town, got help from an older woman who got me headed home. She asked why my trip to Holland, and when told, said "Oh! did your father lose his life in the war?" Uh, no, or I wouldn't be here...But aloud I said, No, he did not.
Jeannette was happy to see me, knew how bikers make long days sometimes. Said I'll check your mileage, came back and said It should've been 60 kilometers but you made it 94 somehow, I don't know where you've been! And I sent you out with a banana and apple and you come back with a banana and 3 apples!
She is running a 10k race tomorrow with her sister, leaving at 9:30 so I'll be off sometime after that.
What an amazing incredible day! I'll be so happy to share photos.
After I purchased a Dutch touring bike today (sweet or what!) we had lunch here at her house. She then provided me maps of how to travel west to Harlingen, the town near which my Dad landed when shot down from his B-17 bomber in WW2. We guessed Harlingen to be about 30 kilometers from here one way, about 18 miles. I set off rather late, 3pm, and headed west with a tailwind. I arrived after 4, and spent lots of time biking up and down the streets, many of which are on canals, and have buildings well over 100 years old. I rode to the sea, now dammed up with an ocean wall, still full of ocean water, the old name of Zuider Zee. Many companies handling storage containers and ocean shipping do business there. I kept looking for a place to swim (hey Ray!) and didn't see one immediately. I biked south to where I was near the 1 mile south and 3/4 mile inland where Dad had been shot down. I found a few empty fields nearby, saw a tiny panel wagon like the one he bought in 1972 for book travels, and took pictures. I found small pink roses along the roadway and picked a few. Then, going north, I saw a bicyclist go up along a walking path above the seawall. I pulled my bike up the embankment and there was the open sea!! With a footpath along the seawall/damwall, I went south out of view, and in I swam- three swims out and under and back. Salty wonderful ocean water, cold and refreshing. Even took a couple of pictures for proof :) I'll download them in Germany at my friend's.
Then the trip back, and it's after 8pm. On the way I got turned around and asked a man on a bicycle for help to Leeuwarden. He kept pointing the way and then said "would you like coffee? Come!" So I had coffee with Jacob Beuker and his wife from Yugoslavia, older and neither of them spoke but a few words of English. When he saw my wet hair and I told where I'd swum, he motioned, Do you want to wash it off and shower? I said No! I must be going! His coffee was strong and delicious, and his wife gave me three apples, a banana, rice cakes and sweet frosted cookies. She kept trying to get me to eat bread with the frozen strawberry cake she'd given me already.
Back on the road, with the dynamo lights which operate when you turn the switch on and the bike is pedaled. Thank goodness for lights, for I got turned around once more near town, got help from an older woman who got me headed home. She asked why my trip to Holland, and when told, said "Oh! did your father lose his life in the war?" Uh, no, or I wouldn't be here...But aloud I said, No, he did not.
Jeannette was happy to see me, knew how bikers make long days sometimes. Said I'll check your mileage, came back and said It should've been 60 kilometers but you made it 94 somehow, I don't know where you've been! And I sent you out with a banana and apple and you come back with a banana and 3 apples!
She is running a 10k race tomorrow with her sister, leaving at 9:30 so I'll be off sometime after that.
What an amazing incredible day! I'll be so happy to share photos.
I have a touring bicycle!
I went with Jeannette and bought a Dutch touring bicycle today. It's quite comfortable, with a Brooks saddle from England, mudguards, cable and tire lock, rack, quite nice. So I'll bicycle west to Harlingen, then back, then to Stuttgart tomorrow. It's closer as a crow flies to Barth, but not as a train goes, through the border to Germany from here has only 3 trains per day and they are not the high speed ones. It's cloudy now but very comfortable.
Northern Holland, 30 minutes inland from the sea
I spent Friday morning in London, going through town to get to the channel crossing. After breakfast I found my way to the bus line, got turned around and finally made it to King's Cross/St Pancras for the Eurostar train to Brussels. The English countryside is lush green, fields rolling away into the distance, beautiful tight towns nestled in amongst trees everywhere. More trees per capita here than thought to be anywhere else on earth!
Across the chunnel, through French countryside, more compact villages with farms scattered at the edges. Red Spanish roofs on most houses, large fields with cows and crops. Belgium, similar to the midwest, but def European. Large fields of corn, hay, crops. Round hay bales wrapped in plastic, haystacks with plastic sheeting held down with tires, but much smaller than American ones! Tiny narrow streets in Belgium and the Netherlands, and bicycles everywhere! The bikes have spaces to "park" closer to trains than the cars, and there are more of the bikes. Cars are very compact, and park on the sidewalk in narrow streets. Flowers and gardens throughout every town, neat, clean, tidy.
I switched trains to come noorth to Leeuwarden, a town of 100,000. Will spend the day looking for a bike and going over to Harlingen on the western coast, near the island of Texel. Cool chilly nights here, needed all the blankets last night. Sunny today, and church bells ring once on the half hour, the hour on the hour. I love the bells!
Breakfast reminded me of Ray's favorite market in Missoula. There is orange juice, fresh milk, 4 kinds of sliced meat, Swiss cheese! and rich wheat bread or rolls. Still hot hard-cooked farm eggs, coffee from an espresso machine, tea. I put butter on my bread and made a sandwich, and later watched a man eat his meat slices with a knife and fork, then pulled bites of bread to go with the meat- oops! Fresh apples and oranges. Yum! simple but good. The meat is just like what Ray gets at the delicatessan on South Higgens.
I'm off to enjoy Holland in the sunshine.
Across the chunnel, through French countryside, more compact villages with farms scattered at the edges. Red Spanish roofs on most houses, large fields with cows and crops. Belgium, similar to the midwest, but def European. Large fields of corn, hay, crops. Round hay bales wrapped in plastic, haystacks with plastic sheeting held down with tires, but much smaller than American ones! Tiny narrow streets in Belgium and the Netherlands, and bicycles everywhere! The bikes have spaces to "park" closer to trains than the cars, and there are more of the bikes. Cars are very compact, and park on the sidewalk in narrow streets. Flowers and gardens throughout every town, neat, clean, tidy.
I switched trains to come noorth to Leeuwarden, a town of 100,000. Will spend the day looking for a bike and going over to Harlingen on the western coast, near the island of Texel. Cool chilly nights here, needed all the blankets last night. Sunny today, and church bells ring once on the half hour, the hour on the hour. I love the bells!
Breakfast reminded me of Ray's favorite market in Missoula. There is orange juice, fresh milk, 4 kinds of sliced meat, Swiss cheese! and rich wheat bread or rolls. Still hot hard-cooked farm eggs, coffee from an espresso machine, tea. I put butter on my bread and made a sandwich, and later watched a man eat his meat slices with a knife and fork, then pulled bites of bread to go with the meat- oops! Fresh apples and oranges. Yum! simple but good. The meat is just like what Ray gets at the delicatessan on South Higgens.
I'm off to enjoy Holland in the sunshine.
04 June 2009
I'm in London!!!
Hey all, I've been in London since this morning. What a great city! I love to ask for directions, because the men will correct my pronunciation and they say, Okay, love....Sweet!!
I'm in Foyle's book shop, and have been through several on Charing Cross Road. Lovely, floor to ceiling books, with the rich aroma of old books! Shelves taller than ours in Alberton, I'll post pictures later. Please write, this is the only way I know just yet to contact you.
I'm in Foyle's book shop, and have been through several on Charing Cross Road. Lovely, floor to ceiling books, with the rich aroma of old books! Shelves taller than ours in Alberton, I'll post pictures later. Please write, this is the only way I know just yet to contact you.
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