ITINERARY

DAY DATE PORT ARRIVE   DEPART Thu Feb 9 Barcelona, Spain 7:00pm Fri Feb 10 At Sea Sat Feb 11 At Sea Sun Feb 12 Funchal, Madeira, Portugal 8:00am 5:00pm Mon Feb 13 Santa Cruz, Tenerife, Canary Islands 8:00am 6:00pm Tue Feb 14 Arrecife, Canary Islands 8:00am 6:00pm Wed Feb 15 At Sea Thu Feb 16 Malaga, Spain 8:00am 7:00pm Fri Feb 17 At Sea Sat Feb 18 Barcelona, Spain 5:00am

Which graphically can be presented like this -

You would be totally and complete right. I am going around the bend. More accurately, making a second loop. The only challenge to this one is coordinating with the Eldest who is joining me. We tried this a couple of years ago – an RCL cruise out of Dubai and managed to miss each other in the airport, at the check-in and back at the airport. Obviously, we finally found each other but it was not an auspicious start.

I want this year to be better. When I started to give her directions she looked at me rather strangely – no, she said, I don’t know where anything is in Barcelona – I haven’t been there before.

Oh – Ms Soprano was there twice on Model UN projects. Barcelona was the departure port in fall of 2009 when I took Maus and her roommate around the Western Med. George and I have been numerous times for business. Come to think of it – I don’t remember the Mole having been here either. But I should not getting the girls confused. I am not that old….

So wish us fair seas and good sailing. Not to worry – the captain on this ship is not Italian.

I organize and pack while avoiding all the hype and push to spend money.

Since NCL has become serious about limiting photography during any of their performances, there is little opportunity to find things of interest in the evening. No one is swimming (at 15C out, that makes sense) and no one was in the hot tubs last night.

However, there was a chocolate buffet so without further comment, I will provide you pictures. (items for display including ice sculpture and carved veggies. These were not for eating. I actually skipped the chocolate and had a crepe with lemon instead).

Yes, I already knew that Gibraltar had changed hands a number of times. Most Americans have a familiarity with The Rock which unfortunately comes from a certain insurance company. A “piece of The Rock?” When middle and older men decide to fight about who owns what piece of groups, it is the young men’s blood that makes the soil red. (If you want – insert March of Cambreadth here – the Heather Alexander song seemed very apropos). The tip of the Iberian Peninsula, Gibraltar is the dividing line between the Med and the Atlantic. Across Straits you can see North Africa on a clear day. (and yes, I know this is the other side of the rock from what is used in the ads. If you want a picture of the other side – go see the night photo from early in the trip).

Anyway – this tour guide decided that we had to know about all the wealthy people who had moved into the area, how the locals can trouble affording decent housing and other tales of ex-Pats. Considering all of this, one of the Germans on the trip finally asked if there was much industry locally besides tourism? Well, as it turns out, tourists, ex-Pats (Brits, Scans, Germans, Dutch) and avocados form the basis of the economy. The Avocados going into various beauty products rather than being for food stuffs.

He got back on his rant and didn’t shut up again the whole away. Not being Spanish – I don’t mind that the UK won’t give the land back.

There are more workers in the surrounding area than there are residents in Gibraltar (30k) so that a large amount of the work force comes in through the border every morning and leaves every evening. It is still a British possession which explains the English in a sea of Spanish.

Escaping the bus at the Coach Terminal with slightly under 4 hours to explore I headed for the Cable car figuring a nice view from the top would be great. Tues is maintenance day. Being already part way down the peninsula, my trusty map and I decided to head toward some more of the military fortifications. Frankly, the whole place is a fort. There have been tunnels, gun emplacements and lookouts for most of the centuries. (Prior to guns – well entrenched fighting positions and look-outs were still a great idea). Most of the fortifications are still there, car parks are critical on such a small bit of land.

Turning down multiple offers of guided tours to the top, I hiked up Engineer Road to the Nature Conservatory. As I was headed up and up and up, I was more than grateful to the last seven days worth of hours spent on the treadmill’s cross country program which made hiking up the mountain at a rapid pace within do-ability.

Just past the entrance on this end at what is know as Jew’s Gate is the Pillars of Hercules Monument essentially proclaiming Gibraltar as the center of the modern world. Jew’s Gate Cemetary is just beyond on the uphill side of the road. Parts are extremely old, others a bit more recent. Similar to what I noted in many places in the UK (unlike Germany and the US) most of it is not in good repair. Of course, limestone is not exactly a sturdy long term material for gravestones, especially when exposed to pollution.

I decided not to spend the rest of my time hiking another couple of miles to St Michaels Cave. the Apes’ Den or the military sites (Siege tunnels, WWII tunes, Military Heritage Center, or various gun battery emplacements) which are all on the Upper Rock. Hiking past the MOD (Ministry of Defence) property, please note the swimming pool winking behind the barbed wire.

Trafalgar Cemetery is beautifully laid out and well tended; the graves date from the late 1700s through the 1800s and is sited just outside the 1883 gate and wall.

There is an active orthodox presence in Gibraltar in what to me sometimes feels like classic modern mode (kippah, cellphone and cigarette) as well as a busy herd of younglings. Windows, doors and signs mark a community which has been present in one form or another for centuries with the Flemish and Great Synagogues.

There are libraries, both military and civilian, there are museums and I will close with the inscription off a Naval Monument. With the length of the post and number of pictures, the fiber and knitting related materials are posted separately.

The subject matter, of course, is knitting. Well, fiber.

After wandering (which happened after the post which comes second) around the Main Street area (note, this is not High Street nor Hauptstrasse), stopping at Marks & Spencers for some nosh and checking out the bookstores I came to Casemates Square. The square, named for the Military Barracks on the side was also once the site of public executions. Now it is a bustling sunny place filled with cafes, restaurants, benches, fountains and children playing.

Anyway – there was a sign on entering the square about Arts & Crafts on the second floor of the far, long building. Arts & Crafts? Why not? Coming up the stairs internal to the building before reaching the balcony were three panels of a school children’s quilt project. The past portion and present made sense. The future? open to anyone’s guess.

On the outer walkway in one direction were some shops and the Army Recruiting office for the local Regiment. (I did mention that Gibraltar has had a long and messy military history didn’t I?)

Turning around, in the other direction – there it was. Inside the lovely and open shop was an extensive display of local products ranging from quilting and sewing through jams, jellies and baskets. There might have been some jewelry as well, but my eyes were distracted by a table of women in the far left back.

Tues afternoons, from lunch till 1500 is a gathering of charity knitters (or those working on their own projects as well). There is an extensive collection of books to be borrowed, a wall of donated yarn for charity knitting and eight ladies working on projects ranging from sweaters and caps to afghan squares and shawls.

I spent a lovely hour just relaxing and knitting. The shop is also the local BookCrossing Zone with high shelves and several hundred books which made me, again, wish that I had a book to add to the shelf. I was going to pick up something, just to journal it and add it to the swap shelves in the ship library but suddenly noticed the passage of time.

Heading back to the Coach Terminal I was just on time (but everyone else was late….).

On the route back which again took almost two hours – I finished the Hocus Pocus and cast on the first arm for the Clockwork Cuffs. The photos were taken after I returned to my room which is why you get one of my current Rainbow jacket status.

Well over half the passengers on the ship are from the US/Canada and played the walking zombie for the first couple of days. Didn’t hear a complaint about sea days from them at all. A number of other first time cruisers, not being dragged down by time zone changes had lots to say about the lack of hot weather and sunshine. Honestly, it is February. If you want to assured of hot weather, I might suggest New Zealand, Australia or South Africa. In other words, somewhere that it is summer. Canary Island are definitely not in the grip of a snow storm but still, they are in the Northern Hemisphere.

Given that I am mostly involved with audio books and knitting, it gives the brain a fair amount of time to roam. There are a lot of people here reading. Reading as in books – hard covers out of the library (700+ books) or paperback of their own. If I had known there was a paperback swap shelf I might have brought a few more books on a one way trip. What I have rarely seen is eReaders. Unlike this fall or last summer where Nooks, Kindles and iPads abounded – my count is still in single digits. Perhaps you might think that I am just missing them, but I have been wandering all over the ship, trading off sitting and relaxing places just to try out different locations and chairs. Lots of books, a few magazines and the rare reader.

For that matter, headphones and ear buds are rare outside of the fitness center.

Knitting seems to be a magnet, I have met a lot of women who do various kinds of needle crafts, but not one bought anything along on the trip. Several made the usual comments about not being able to take knitting needles/crochet hooks on airplanes. I did the usual explanation (wood, bamboo, plastic – not size 0000 steel 15″ lace needles and they ought to be fine). All the discussions were fun, it made up for the fact that I am going to have to frog the almost finished left side of my rainbow sweater back to the sleeve. Something about having cast on a few too many stitches and not wanting something will extend to my knees when finished.

I have had diner with couples from Leeds, Yorkshire, and Essex. Today I had a lovely conversation with a couple from Bremerhaven who remember when the US had troops stationed there. In fact, they were part of a network of locals who took in single soldiers for weekends and holidays. It is almost 20 years since the base closed and they are still getting cards and letters (and of course some email in this day and age).

Mostly however, the demographics are what you might expect: significant participation from us “old retired folks.”

Some things feel familiar – water storage on the top of buildings, a few wooden doors here and there and a real phone booth. The Library is open on Sundays – most of the stores are not.

And progress on the knitting.

Since I was just here in Nov (as apposed to Nov of 2007) when I had seen some of the museums I decided to take the tram across the northern part of the island from Tenerif. From one end of the line to the other takes close to an hour starting from near the old fort at water’s edge and ending at the Pedestrian Zone at the other.

It is easy to see that we are back in Spain; the fancy patterned stone side walks with their lines, symbols and insets are gone in favor of ordinary cobblestone and pavement. The architectural highlight in this city is the door. Old wooden doors pitted but lovingly tended. Newer doors (well 100 years old is newer, right?) gleam with varnish and sealant. Also of interest are the wooden frames to upper windows.

I hope you can handle doors two days in a row. Oh, and did I mention the tribe of Scouts complete with backpacks, sleeping rolls and a weary looking couple of adults escorting them down the street. From the variety of languages heard I don’t think they are local kids.

Reading -

I am trundling through Monica Ferris’s Needlework Shop Mystery series. Not exactly in order by chronology but by alphabetical order as I picked most of them up over the last year on the various Audible Sales.

Knitting.

It takes much longer to finish a section repeat on the Shadow Jacket now that I have added the body extensions on both ends to to the sleeve sides. ~150 stitches suddenly had 220 added, which does slow me down.

Since then, I have been to/through the Canaries a couple of times but the stops have been on other islands.

This is the first of two posts on Funchal. Too many photos for one post. Two completely disparate things to talk about.

In the last several years there has been a lot of art development which leads me to the street art. Back all those same number of years ago I had a Friday tradition of posting pictures – normally doors or arches. So this is about the doors along Rua de Santa Maria. Not all the doors, mind you – just the ones which I found interesting or could get a decent shot not obscured by all the other tourists with their cameras. I have my older EOS instead of the 7D which was not particularly happy with me. I am feeling the lack of capability (narrower ISO range which decreases the quality of indoor pictures) and the not-quite-as-good lens.

If you are reading the email version of this post with thumbnails – suggest you wander to the blog as the ability to embiggen some of the photos really makes a difference.

Just so things are clear – we made an unexpected stop in Gibraltar last night. Since I have the older camera with an ISO setting only down to 1600, the shutter speed was longer than I liked and the best that I got was with camera braced on the side rail

The story started earlier in the afternoon when I was sitting, minding my own business in one of the lounges. This couple who had a significant number of years on me dropped in to chairs on the other side of the coffee table. The elderly gentleman, from what I understood (my French is just about gone and they had no other languages) had not been feeling well. He got up and wandered off. A few minutes later as he was headed back, it looked like he got dizzy and hit the carpet with a resounding crash.

Guess what – I even got to fill out an accident report in exchange for promptly responding (head wounds bleed like mad) and the staff rounded up a wheel chair after finding me some clean bar towels for a pressure dressing.

Several hours later, there is a ship wide announcement that we will be making an unplanned stop in Gibraltar to off load an ill/injured passenger. Now, I don’t think the head wound was all that serious but it did need stitches. What I believe is of concern is whatever medical reason was behind his falling in the first place. It wasn’t rough seas and it was not food issues. The five main issues (cardiac, strokes, diabetes, electrolytes and medication imbalance) are much more likely as a source).

The seas were not all that smooth and it was a bit chilly. Watching as they dropped down a side panel to lock up against the medical response tender and said vessel bouncing around like a cork was more than I wanted to see. Rather than take any more pictures, I headed in.

Now – back to the ship followed by a side detour into knitting.

The Norwegian Jade…. built in 2006 has the same physical layout as the Norwegian Star (Alaska cruise last August). In contrast, it has a bit of an interesting decoration scheme. There are paintings, murals, decorations and lighting fixtures that I would expect to see in the Pacific.  Well – goes what ? This turns out to  be the ship that used to be named “Pride of Hawaii” that plied the route around the Hawaiian Islands.

My cabin is comfortable for me and would be fine for a couple. You would have to be insane to try and shoehorn four people into this space.  What I am starting to consider is that, when traveling my oneself – go for the cheapest room possible. There really is not a whole lot of point to views or lots of space when it is by far more interesting to be out and about in the ship. If I want to sit by myself and never see or talk to other people I could have stayed home.

Anyway – there is the ship and there are also the two knitting projects currently in front of me. The Hocus Pocus cowl is portable within the limits of dealing with a color work pattern so it was with me on the plane and the first day on ship prior to luggage. The large triangular shawl has the first wing done, the center section and most of the second side completed leaving me with about six rows plus the front edging. It is a lot of stitches, trust me.

so – Ship pix, the rock and night (not great but the best you will get) and two knitting pictures.

From my point of view, this trip meets all criteria

1. it is warmer there than here
2. I like Barcelona and can find things there. Still want to spend more time in the Maritime Museum
3. I am familiar with the three Canary Stops and have places to visit and hikes to take
4. there are days at sea to knit.
5. no cooking, cleaning, laundry
6. good fitness facilities

ITINERARY

DAY DATE PORT ARRIVE   DEPART Tues Jan  31 Barcelona, Spain 7:00pm Wed Feb 1 At Sea Thu Feb 2 At Sea Fri Feb 3 Funchal, Madeira, Portugal 8:00am 5:00pm Sat Feb 4 Santa Cruz, Tenerife, Canary Islands 8:00am 6:00pm Sun Feb 5 Arrecife, Canary Islands 8:00am 6:00pm Mon Feb 6 At Sea Tue Feb 7 Malaga, Spain 8:00am 7:00pm Wed Feb 8 At Sea Thu Feb 9 Barcelona, Spain 5:00am

-Holly at Sea again

It could be because I had little sleep on Sunday nigh, making the mistake of not heading to bed when I was tired. It passed, I had an energy spurt and all of a sudden it was after 0200 in the morning. Still with needing to drop George off at the Bahnhof for an 0615 train you may start to understand the magnitude of the problem. This was followed by a day of attempting to run errands, finishing knitting projects (you have already heard how that went) and packing.

All of a sudden, it was 2130 and I had this huge pile of projects to go in the suitcase, underwear and effectively no clothes. After I sorted things out a bit better (my plan on this trip is finishing two major projects and a lot of one-skein scarves), printed patterns, and found shoes – I need either the big suitcase, or two suitcases. That is where this frequent flyer business comes in handy. I can check two bags. The big suitcase and a smaller projects bag.

The downside? If my project bag gets lost I will be in a world of hurt without needles or yarn.

This morning I awoke to snow on the ground, ice on the steps and slightly coated objects next to the house that were car shaped. I had asked the Eldest for a ride to the train station. When I saw the snow, I decided it was stupid to have her get up and deal with all of that when she hadn’t gotten home from work till 0030. I was looking for the cab company phone number when she came up stairs, keys in hand. We made a deal, I borrowed a couple of Euro (just in case since I had 10 Euro and other wise only a large note. Large notes are not welcomed by taxi drivers, especially before 0600 in the morning), she called the cab company and went back to bed. We aren’t all that far from the train station. Given that the 0547 is the last direct train to the airport, it is my preference over later trains. Dragging suitcases through Mannheim Bahnhof to change tracks is not my idea of a good time.

Looking at the train schedule I realized – I could take the 0111 and be in Amsterdam by 0800. The only reason it takes that long is that the train has some long pauses at a couple of stations. Or, I could go to Hamburg, change trains and go to Copenhagen, Oslo or Stockholm (yes, there are ferries involved).

The other advantage of the early train is that the wagons are fairly empty. Lets me have two candy bars without feeling selfish when the conductor comes around. Bahn card has to be good for something!

0-H-0

Lufthansa Business Lounge, Fraport

Certainly we don’t want the current issue of the A66 near Wiesbaden where someone is driving down the wrong side of the road. But I can see how it could happen, in the dark where there is no traffic and the road is pitch black. There are certainly no lights along the autobahn to give you an idea of direction. Nothing. Not like in Belgium or the Netherlands where the gleam of yellow energy saving lights reflect like cat’s eyes from over the road. Nor is there the orangish glare common to some of the other major roads elsewhere on the continent.

No, Germany can remain proud of its decision to not waste energy on lighting major roads which normally do not have speed limits. Those same roads, when it is dark and the fog swirls up from the fields covering the roads and obscuring that place, just a soccer field ahead of you where there was (wasn’t there?) a rather large tanker just a minute ago.

The drive was long, dark and I arrived home exhausted from a day of teaching ATLS in Landstuhl.

I have a full tank of gas and a promise that I don’t need to be there before 0900 in the morning which is good because I am more than brain fried having left home at 0530 this morning.

Of course, Lufthansa’s counter (they only have a couple of flights a day from Chicago – the rest are all code share operated by United) didn’t open for a couple of hours. Gave me plenty of time to knit. That scarf seemed a bit short. Since I still had another skein of yarn, it seemed most sensible to add another 30-40 cm to the length figuring I can mail it to her this coming week.

United doesn’t recognize any frequent anything card below Senator Class of other airlines, so I got to relax in a restaurant drinking a cappuccino and deciding that it is nicer to fly from SF or NYC. Paying United for the privilege of their lounge for a couple of hours just didn’t make any sense. (Does it also mean that for a price, just about anything is for sale?)

The flight – a 747 – had only ~ 80 in economy. I had noted that the plane seemed fairly empty when I did the online check in. As a result I had moved my seating from a section with a lot of people to the back of the plane claiming a row of three all to myself. At check-in, the counter person confirmed that it was likely that there was going to be no one with in several rows.

Not a problem – sleep is good.

I got to spend a fair amount of time at Hertz (O’Hare Airport) turning in the van and picking up a much smaller car. It wasn’t supposed to take very long. Except …
1) they were out of cars, so it was 45 minutes. Ok, I can live with that – I had my iPod and knitting. I also had a box of “stuff” that had been left in the van. Had not planned on leaving anything in the van. So there I sit with a box at my feet surrounded by all these elegantly dressed people with their fancy suitcases. Go figure, I just ignored them.
2) USAA forgot that I was in the US and bounced my credit card. Not a good time, glad I had a back up. Their excuse later was …. they sent me an email to request that I log on to answer their questions.

All of part two I had no clue about until end of the afternoon when I stopped in to some friends in order to get a fixed phone for an 800# call and to access email. Not like all of us always have email.

So, meanwhile, I get through Costco on a debit card (same account as the credit card) without difficulty. Go figure, I can’t.

Stopping by a friends I call USAA and they tell me about their wonderful attempts to thwart fraud on my account. I tell them about the ugliness of standing at the Hertz counter and having my credit card refused. They tell me about sending an email. I ask them why they would think I had email while traveling.

We both take a breath. I once again give them phone numbers, they once again apologize and assure me there should be no problems. Huh.

Heading back to Chicago. Have not heard from the daughter since we parted ways at her orientation. Didn’t put her number in my phone.

So I have just sent her an email with my number and asked her to call …….

Now, this past fall with Maus it wasn’t completely absurd. She was headed to Pratt, she was going to be living in the dorm and excellent friends in the city helped out going over and above anything rational to give us a hand. (At least that is what Mark and Deb did, from bailing us out of the airport, dropping off Miriam’s stuff at school, putting us up overnight and dropping us again at the airport the next morning). Then there were the shopping runs.

Transferring Ms Soprano to Columbia College in Chicago was made more challenging by Gwen. When you have a dog, you don’t live in the dorm which necessitates finding an apartment. It also means a drive from DC (where her stuff was) to Chicago because of the stuff and the dog. Staying in motels which are dog friendly makes sense, and staying with friend in the area for a couple of days also meets the common sense test when you have keys but a completely open and empty place.

Today we managed to accomplish some major tasks. We didn’t buy out Costco, but she should not be lacking for supplies for a long time. They kept a bit of my money in return.

And then we went 0-2 at Apple once again failing to be able to execute a phone contract. AT&T managed to unscrew the paperwork but it took long enough to see 1/2 football game and reassure myself that I have been missing absolutely nothing by not watching TV for years. For an encore we stopped at Target for the rest of the house hold basics (those things which you really don’t want to buy in case lots – vegetable peelers, can openers, pillows……)

What we haven’t really settled is the furniture. I think it shouldn’t be an emergency decision driven by not wanting to sleep on the floor. After attempting IKEA yesterday and spending a bit of time on-line today I have had my thoughts confirmed. Whatever we buy, Ms Soprano is going to have to live with for a long time. Which is the long way around of saying that we haven’t made any decisions at all.

Don remembered the air mattress which has been hiding in his closet for several years. Originally purchased for one of his sons heading out on a similar type adventure it has seen a lot of use. We hauled it out, pulled it from the bag and unrolled it. Carefully peeling off the two sheets which had been packaged in with the air mattress we opened it out on the floor, plugged it in and watched it start to fill. It wasn’t hard to figure out the setting for the intake value but it just didn’t seem to be filling. As I am standing on the far end, I feel a cool breeze on my ankles. Looking down, there is a gaping hole with printed directions to the right. Funny thing, there is an out flow as well as the intake.

Seems that if you want to effectively inflate this double decker charmer it really helps to close the valve.

The plan is coordinated for us to get keys to the apartment followed by unloading the van. I figure that will give us a few hours to wander around the area before heading out toward the burbs. We are going to have to do some basic stocking. Even with gas and tolls, I have a feeling that downtown Chicago (if it is like most major cities) has higher prices for many items than you find a bit further out.

The plan – obviously – is to leave Ms Soprano stocked with the basics. We picked up dog food yesterday. As we drove over the last two days, we made lists of everything we would need to pick up (from laundry detergent and cleaning supplies and food) those things which have to be done (utilities, mail delivery) to making suer that she can find the school and the dog park (hey, when you own a golden retriever I am told that your priorities can change).

What I hadn’t counted on was the poor kid getting sick.

We found where we needed to be and met the lovely lady with the keys at 0900. I then left the daughter in the bathroom while I hauled a few things up from the car. Moved the car to the parking lot and hauled up a few more boxes all the while being very grateful that I had repacked theses boxes for me to carry. And that this round of bad back was no where as serious as the last time round the pain.

Shortly after noon everyone seemed stable enough to pack into the van and head out to one of the burbs. George it seems keeps track of just about everyone including a roommate from his sophomore year at Georgetown. Me? I have this huge floating gap (high school through FM residency) which is inhabited only by one person, Carmen, whose house I stayed on Tues.

So here we are in a real house for the rest of the day. Kid is too sick to go shopping, the Gwen is thrilled to be with people who think she is special and I am just relaxing. Furniture shopping is going to be done on line. For that matter, a lot of my life now seems to be on-line!

-Holly
Palatine, IL

Now, admittedly we are staying in a motel near the major freeway exchange just south of I-80/90. But sidewalks? Pedestrian lights?

Not a chance. I got more than a few strange looks as I attempted to cross Mississippi St, even when there was a light. You know the kind of traffic light I mean; the one where a person going straight ahead is definitely interfering with the right of drivers to turn right any old time they please regardless of traffic conditions.

I discovered all of this after we checked in. There was a mall within vision distance so I thought I would just take a nice hike over. Bad mistake! I managed to get there, but at risk of life and limb. After cruising around the mall for a while and not finding much of anything, I hiked back. Giving up, we took the car. This particular area of town strongly resembles Rockville Pike. Same malls, same store combinations only without a decent grocery store in sight.

In nearby Hobart we saw one housing development that had sidewalks. I am sure the only reason they were there was because the regional high school was across the street. Other than that – we saw nothing anywhere that looked like a town center, nor anywhere that anyone could safely walk.

After driving around for a while we finally found the Petco, the dog is now the proud owner of dog food, drinking bowls and (from the sale table) a green holiday frog that was on half price. I am not sure why I didn’t figure out before she delightedly showed me that it squeaked.

-Holly
Merrillville, IN

Gwen wasn’t thrilled but rode in the back seat, the seat belt safely strapped through her harness unfairly limiting her movements (in her opinion). After her soft whining didn’t accomplish anything other than reprimands – she grudgingly gave in and napped between pit stops.

The weather has held so far, the temperatures right around freezing no matter which temperature scale you favor without precipitation. The traffic has not been heavy and I will say that there are definite advantages to toll roads over local driving with lost people and lots of stop lights. I am ignoring my back which is not particularly happy with long driving hours at a stretch which is the explanation for not pushing through in 1 day and getting this over.

We are staying at LaQuinta’s. First, an aside about the expensive and snooty hotels which are the main stay of the upper end business traveler. You know when you are in one of those places: there is fancy name small bottles of product in the bathrooms; they are over decorated and under heated; you are charged for breakfast served by an individual of any race with the mandatory French name tag; and, of course, you are charged for internet at a seriously overflated price per 24-hour period.

La Qunita’s, on the other hand, is your average US chain motor lodge along the by-ways and highways of the Interstate Highway system. Like it’s fellow chains – Comfort Inn, Holiday Inn Express – it features drive-up unload yourself service. The registration people have ordinary US names like Brenda, June, Ahmed, Maria, Kahl, and Vekesha. Friendly and accommodating, they let you check in a couple of hours early when you look exhausted. Some, like Brenda, are Army brats who are in the Jessup area because her mother retired out of Ft Meade a number of years ago. Other, like Ahmed, moved to the US as a child when his parents immigrated. June and her husband have been living in Ohio their entire lives and working at this particular location for over a decade.

Breakfast is included, the rooms are neat and scrupulously clean, the WiFi is free and breakfast is included. What is most important, they are pet friendly. The rules, which you sign on registration are clear and simple: keep the animal under control and out of food, exercise and pool areas; don’t leave it alone to create a fuss; clean up after it.

What is not to like?

Ms Soprano and the four footed blond arrived safe and sound.

George had driven them to the airport in Frankfurt this morning their time. Checking them in at his ticket counter (something about being that frequent a flyer means that they are willing to let him use the VIP lane to take care of family members even when he is not flying.

On my end, I had spent the morning repacking all of the boxes of her “stuff” which had been unceremoniously dropped off at Carmen’s. Condensing them down just by doing a more efficient job of packing wasn’t all that hard. Loading them into the van wasn’t even all that difficult.

The Hertz rental people were extremely nice and apologetic. They obviously had not expected the almost new van I had rented to start flashing a “maintain me and give me oil” light at me shortly after I left the airport. Certainly it made sense not to drive it to Chicago without relieving its anxiety. And, while I was at it, I got to swap for a van that was not all fancy electronics…. The very nice guys in the return yard moved the boxes for me, adjusted the seat and let me leave the loaded van there while I went and met the flight.

It might have been a pain to switch vans, but I didn’t have to pay for the extra fuel or parking while doing picking up the blonds so I probably came out ahead.

We hit the road for the first hotel. I am wiped, the daughter just finished up her emails and the four-footed one is bored.

Back to the train. Getting dropped in Mannheim meant that I didn’t have to drag a suitcase from one track to another with only five minutes between trains. Instead, I could roll to the right track, take the elevator up and get on the waiting train with plenty of time to spare.

It was after I checked in with British Airways that things started to be challenging. About 15 minutes prior to boarding, I noted that my flight had disappeared off the gate and another flight was now using this particular area. Asking, I was informed that the flight was delayed. About two hours delayed which just about matched my connection time in London.

I headed back to the ticket counter (back through Passport Control and looking sadly at security as I passed. There were all these people checking in and dropping off bags, but no one at the actual ticket counter. Met this lovely woman working there. She agreed that I was not likely going to make my connecting flight and the later BA one was fully booked. Did I need to go to London?

Ah, no. I could skip London.

Couple of minutes of key clicking followed by – If I would like, she could rebook me onto United 933 and I could fly from Frankfurt directly to Dulles. Only catch is that the flight doesn’t leave till 1700.

Took me about no seconds to decide that was a much better deal and another 15 minutes for her to do all the involved paperwork.

British Airways is in Terminal 2. United is in Terminal 1. Finding them in the center section, they were happy to get me checked in and make sure that my bag was located and transferred to their flight. I turned down the chance to upgrade for 435E (that is a bit much) and would have happily done it for 15000 miles (a good deal) but they could not take Lufthansa Miles, only United Miles. (BTW, a friend on the west coast has been willing to offer me miles, but given the 9 hours of time difference by the time he was up and said it was cool I was already boarded and settled).

There is a Lufthansa Lounge in Terminal Z which I got to use.<

The flight was fine but I didn’t get in till 2030 and picked up the rental van at 2115 which means that it is closing fast on 2300….

According to my watch – it is fast approaching 0500 in the morning. That means I have been up for 23 hours. I think it might just be time to sleep.

-Holly
Wheaton, MD

Since one of the other members of the Aeris crew is headed through Frankfurt on the same flight before changing planes/airlines/whatever to go home (California) I opt to take up David’s offer on sharing his cab and save a number of minutes off the Tram ride to the Airport.

He can go through the high class security rat run designed for those important enough to have gold cards. I go through the peon gate. This is Switzerland. They are precise and don’t offer courtesy to those not entitled. As it turns out, our flight is not exactly near the lounge and we meet back up in the gate area.

At boarding we part ways – he is in the front, I am just glad for a seat on the plane and to find that it is not in the last row in front of the latrines.

Frankfurt – the Lufthansa arrival lounge in Terminal “B” is for inbound international customers, not the rest of us mortals. I hang out at the USO and wait till Maus arrives.

She is easy to spot. Long blond hair, grinning face and towing frosted green suitcases. She was right on the color – nothing like it anywhere on the baggage carousel.

We make the train back with a minute to spare, change in Mannheim and are picked up by the Eldest. All happy to be home.

It was raining in Heidelberg.  For example – I was headed to Zurich this morning. Flying for some odd reason (something about the plane not costing all that much more than trainfare and needed to be back in time to meet Maus in Frankfurt around noon tomorrow). The Eldest kindly drops me at the train station and I buy a ticket. Deciding to catch a slightly earlier connection to Mannheim than the normal connector it means that I should have 12 minutes between trains rather than the usual five. Train leaves late, in fact it leaves at the scheduled time for the S-Bahn. Since the S-Bahn leaves after us it was probably a good choice as the ICE has just about finished boarding in Mannheim as I dash up.

Like a good air travel passenger, I have preprinted my boarding pass which turns out to have done me no good. Getting to the security area, the nice guy tells me that my flight has been cancelled. Back up stairs to Lufthansa ticketing where the gate keeper tells me security is wrong; she has no record of the flight being cancelled. It is a Swiss Air flight, I inform her – booked with a Lufthansa number. Ok, she gives me a customer number. Awaiting my turn – yes, it seems that flight is cancelled. The weather in Switzerland is rapidly deteriorating and flights are being cancelled. What is more, I can standby for the 1500 flight, but there is not a free seat till 1700. Since we need to be at the dinner partly before I would arrive in at the Zurich airport, this is a non-starter. And no, they have already started boarding the 1155 – I can’t standby for that one (1130 here).

Ok, I take the standby card and slide through security (Frequent Traveler status with Lufthansa gets you through the Business Class line). The 1500 gate is A25. Just for a lark I stop at A21 where the 1155 is just about done boarding. The lovely woman at the counter looks at me when I explain that I am standby for the 1500, but wonder if there is room on this flight to standby. No – no checked luggage. She has no clue but asks. Turns out that since there are still seats she is more than willing to seat me. I am the last one but two on the plane, the door closes. We taxi out.

The flight is fine till we hit the Alps. Let us just leave it with the fact that turbulence was significant enough to shut up all the screaming babies. After trudging from the furthest gate in Zurich I managed to find the #10 Tram and get to the Hauptbahnhof by the nice leisurely method of traveling through the rain past all sorts of uninteresting buildings and neighborhoods. Finding that I could have gotten off several stops sooner and not walked the wrong way around the block.

Oh, well – got there, went to dinner, took photos, got back to the hotel.

Never did get a chance to try my new frequent traveler card at the Lufthansa Lounge.

Or I really should have known from the hotel people who raised their eyebrows. But in any case, we went, we survived and we arrived home safe and sound.

There are advantages to short trips including the fact that, expensive as it is, parking at the airport is cheaper when you are only going to be gone a couple of days than round-trip train fare for two.

You know the story? 3 acts worth of

1) Naval Officer with the Consultant in Japan rents house and contracts with 15 year old Japanese girl for marriage. Later – he takes off since he always intended to and marry a proper American wife

2) she waits for him -

3) the coward that he is -he tries to sneak in the back door and pick up his son (hello? take home a mixed race child of your husbands? I don’t think so……). Distraught from being abandoned – she turns over the boy and kills herself.

Before we go any further, let me give you a little more background so you will understand my point of view. Your concurrence is not required of course; just that sometimes what seems completely stupid on the surface is….. even more so when you think about it. The Opera was written in 1904 by an Italian who, by any account has never been to the far east, made no study of the culture and demonstrates this clearly in his concept of characters and plot. He based it on stories by others (can you spell white European male?) and scholar’s aside – given the attitude toward mixed race anyone held by Europeans I have real doubts as to the veracity of that particular event, especially in the 1880s. (Shall we leave out his personal, repressible behavior in terms of having affairs and otherwise not being a pillar of society?)

This performance at the Volksopern, Vienna was staged with more than full cast and orchestra. Orchestra being defined in this case as a good band diluted by 36 excess strings, an excellent harpist and 4 bored men with bases. Pucinni likes strings. I don’t. Woodwind sections are good; this one was fine which was good since we had the pleasure of being on that side of the theater and spared the brass. However, with Puvcinni it probably didn’t make a difference. He is enamored of strings which means that I was surprised that the brass and percussion sections managed to stay awake for their five minutes of involvement peppered into 2 hours of music. Strings would not be so incredibly annoying if we hadn’t been in lodge seating and were treated to an unrestricted view of excessive body english to the point of flipping feet up and down on the part of one violinist.

I am a recovered flutist of the old school variety – the one that says body english is distracting and a waste of energy that should be better channeled into the music. Bobbing, swaying and writhing in ones chair are not a sign of emotional playing – they are a public exhibit of lack of taste.

Gee – no opinions or digressions here or anything! Back to the performance.

The Volksopern has a standard stage with good mechanics which the director used to advantage. The center stable section had a “Japanese” like building with side panels used to good effect. The outer ring rotated bringing in settings and props. The minimalist props and set pieces were fine.

The actors on the other hand – well just let me leave it with there were an awfully lot of people wandering here and there with no real purpose at the beginning as well as in numerous crowd scenes. It is not that they were needed for chorus work – they were just bodies. Inaccurately dressed bodies. If you are going to portray an era – please be consistent. Don’t mix 1860s with 1880s with 1910 in women’s clothing (all of the silhouettes were wrong and not a corset, bustle or pannier in the herd). Modern foot gear is not a good idea, especially combined with ties (not cravats). Just because you put a straw hat on a kid doesn’t mean that he/she is dressed appropriately for the time.

Shall we just ignore the modernization portion at the end? Crowds again, this time in modern dress – hanging out, staring. Mannequins would have been preferable and more lifelike. To finish it off Pucinni as narrator physically involved with his own opera? Stumbling around with a cane which I guess was supposed to hint at the wheelchair which was his main mode of mobility.

I actually don’t mind the Italian. I don’t know enough Italian to be irritated at the triteness of the lines and story. Put over-titles for subtitles (German) at the top of the theater arch and the little remaining mystery is gone. Stupid story, decent voices often drowned out by the orchestra. Sopranos cut clearly through everything – altos and baritones not so.

George’s take on it was simple – not a good performance. He found the lack of balance coupled with the staging = the worst of the many performances of this opera he has seen. Given that Madam Butterfly ranks right up there at #8 on the world-wide most performed operas, there are more than a few chances to hear it.

I was relieved to catch the S-bahn back to the hotel, have a decent nights sleep and fly comfortably home today.

According to the printed list I got from the machine in the lounge – I just went over the bar required for Frequent Traveler Status on Lufthansa for next year. It is pretty funny that I wound up getting more miles for the little spent on this found trip than I did for my last NY-Frankfurt run…..

Really, I bear absolutely no resemblance to all of you who just happen to have a Y chromosome. I will ask for directions. Sometimes, occasionally, or when desperate enough. Now, let us add in the question of “when” one needs to turn right – or how many right turns are actually involved. It just might have been smart to ask for a specific location of the hotel on the map before I headed out the door now wouldn’t it?

You know what is coming already don’t you? I didn’t turn right as soon as I should. Continuing in what I thought was the correct direction, my street eventually came to a T with a major road. There just happened to be a streetcar line and multiple lanes. Not being a complete fool – I pulled out my map with rapidly stiffening fingers.

(aside – did I mention that it was cold and damp this morning? Temperatures above freezing but nothing to write home about. The knitter here did not pack either hat or hand coverings. )

Finding my current location was a bit south of where I needed to be: all right – I was walking away from the river rather than toward the Donau, I finally turned right and headed along this outer right back toward the city coming within two blocks of where I started before branching off into new territory.

I love the architecture – a combination of graceful palaces and reconstruction with enough detailing and trim to make even the newer buildings appear as if they date from the 1800s-early 1900s. Of course, there are a number of the quick slab permacrete thrown up at the end of World War II as rapid replacements for structures bombed beyond restoration.

By hook, crook and frequent looks at my map I managed to get myself to the Naschmarkt. Again, completely wrong direction but at least I knew where I was. By heading to Karlsplatz, going under the streets via the U-Bahn entrance I was able to land on Opernstrasse which took me to Opern Ring. At this point, I had enough sense to figure that I was still south of where I wanted to be which meant left was the correct direction.

I walked along the ring past hurrying people, souvenir shops and the occasional meter maid spreading joy, cheer and tickets to the Museum area where I encountered medium size herd of tour buses. From destinations as close as Salzberg and Prag to more distant Netherlands, Italy and Northern Germany it seemed that the Christmas Market ranks right up there with the Museums as a must see stop on their itinerary.  Even this early in the day, the booths in this particular outdoor market set up between the Natural History and Art Museums were packed with customers. Roasted chestnuts, sizzling waffles and the scent of Gluwein hung on the air.

After carefully thinking over the 20 Euros in my pocket I elected to continue on my route, zig-zagging over two streets and following along till I reached the Rathaus U-Bahn stop before heading right toward the Rathaus and yet another collection of holiday booths.  After navigating the square, I settled in at Cafe Einstein to wait on a friend. We are meeting this afternoon to exchange some books and enjoy a cup of coffee.

The 
Volksopera is on the agenda for the evening. We may even be a bit Viennese and have a bite to eat after the performance.  Since I am now a bit more sure of myself after walking for almost three hours around the city, I may just attempt the kilometer between here and there on foot rather than on public transportation. After all – I will have a couple of hours to find it.

The city of Wien always has fascinated me with its combination of old world charm, areas of modernization and a bit of arrogance. Think of Paris – only without the French. There is a certain underlying belief that everything here is just a little bit better. That if you are not Austrian, specifically Viennese, you just don’t understand.

Unlike other major cities, there is a friendliness and willingness to help others. Asking for directions actually gets you useful information. If your German is Deutsch rather than Austrian, that is taken into account and there is no one looking down their nose at you. You can sit for hours in a cafe without the waitstaff impatiently trying to run you off.

You can even be late for a reservation at a busy restuarant and they will try to accommodate you.

What am I doing here? George had some meetings today and a board meeting tomorrow. The marginal cost of my joining him was the airfare since hotel, local transportation and even some meals are covered. I do enjoying learning about some of the new technology in the pipeline and there is the occasional fascinating person. My normal role as *doubting Thomas* serves to occasionally inject some reality and common sense into the flights of fancy indulged in by the creator of the new and different.

I promise to get a video of the bubble bear and send it on as soon as I am back in Heidelberg. He seemed to strike a cord in all of us who have lived in that particular neighborhood at some point in our lives.

Like you had privacy? Or that they would have only women looking at women’s scans? Or that the scans would not be visible to random passerbys?

And if you believe that, I want to offer you a skiing vacation at Miami Airport.

First, the TSA employees are nice and courteous. Second, the scanning screen at concourse G at the back of the scanner is visible to the young man working there (as well as anyone else who is packing up their computers). And then there is the matter of the two old geezers situated behind a bass screen with monitors carefully scrutinising all the scans. The only way that any privacy might be maintained is that they may not have terrific vision. The flip side of my rant is that anyone might become blinded after viewing overweight US bodies through a scanner all day.

At least there is free WiFi at the Miami airport…..

Going Back to Houston has lyrics I believe by Bobby Bare but was mostly made famous by that old crooner Dean Martin. The YouTube link I have provided dates from 1965. Although what looking cool in a tuxedo has to do with being a lonely bum on the road in bad clothes and holely shoes is beyond me.

Anyway, I am not even sure that I have ever been in Houston before.

The mountains and hills of Panama passed lush and green beneath the wings of my plane as we soar north and east toward the United States.  Flocks of clouds like wooly sheep dot the landscape with the occasional sparkle and glint of as light reflects off vehicles and windshields winding their way along steep and narrow track roads below.  Flying over Gatun, the locks, the reservoir lake all muddy from the recent rain and run off, I spot the steady parade of ships headed to the Atlantic.  Vanishing quickly behind us, the ground below is rapidly covered by a thicker blanket of clouds. The end of the line of ships will shortly be replaced by those headed for distant far eastern destinations as we fly over the harbor and out over the Caribbean.

The plane is full, my camera is in my bag. I have iPod, bookreader and knitting for the flight.

Deplaning in Houston doesn’t do anything for the song stuck in my head, nor do I seem to please the security people as I eschew the full body scanner in favor of a pat down. Just to make sure that I don’t ever get comfortable, Continental changes my outbound three times (including two terminal changes) just to keep me entertained during the wait.

Since wifi is not free, knitting had to suffice.   It is at the point of finishing one project and wanting to start the next that I realize I left a printed pattern on the last flight.  Reorganizing the bag again, out comes my Hoxbro shawl for a few rows (200+ rows feels like forever).  I will have to find a different choice since smaller is better on planes.

By the time I arrive in Miami, it is almost 2300. Using the airport phone, I find out that the LaQuita shuttle is on its last run and my luggage has not yet arrived. There is also a difference between blue and yellow cabs I am informed by the dispatchers as I have to stand aside in the cab line while dozens after me are sent on their merry way. Since there seems to be only one of the correct color, I offer to share with the other soul who is attempting to get to a local hotel. Good deal for the cabby since he is paid by passenger rather than metered run.

A/C to stave off the hot and humid air. Clean sheets and waffles for breakfast at LaQuinta. What more could I want? Oh, yes – the free wifi works.

La Quinta Inn, Miami Airport East

Otherwise, a nice breakfast buffet was overwhelmed by echoing voices and happy, loud chatter as was the lobby. All I can say is that most of the other guests are from the local region. They are wearing bright colors, short sleeves and the vocal volume is incredible augmented by generous hand and arm gestures.

Sliding to the far end of the room, I watch amused while drinking my kaffe con leche. It is a pleasure to have good coffee. One of my few serious complaints about that particular RCI ship – the coffee was abysmal.

Over the day I caught up on my email accounts, hiked the area and knit. Watching the ships pass through the locks is amazing. As you might have noticed yesterday – it is next to a several story building that you really get a perspective on how big the ships really are. Even the container ships, stacked to seven or more layers just tower over everything around them.

It is off early to the airport for my long (read many hours on a layover in Houston) flight to Miami.

Holiday Inn, Clayton, Panama

My 86 year old exercise companion was the only other person in the Fitness Center this morning at 0500. By 0600 I was through my 50 minutes, and upstairs saying goodbye to friends and having breakfast in order to make the 0700 meeting time.

It wasn’t exactly 0715 when we headed out the door, but close enough. Turns out the tour included the Panama Canal (one set of locks and a stop at the Vistor’s Center on the Pacific end of the Canal to see the double locks in operation), a drive around Panama City and a stop at a Mall.

The first of several considerations have to be kept in mind: the Atlantic is north and the Pacific is south. This means that the Canal actually runs from Southeast to Northwest since Panama is horizontally rather than vertically positioned relative to the main body of North American. I also had to bring a number of unrelated facts together. Since I am a public health type – remembering the effects of Yellow Fever and Malaria on the building of the canal was easy to bring to mind. Not being an economist – I guess I hadn’t really thought through the commercial requirements for transportation across the Panama Isthmus. Gold Rush? Travel 50 miles across Panama or all the way across the US/Mexico? No brainer there, even it was hacking your way through jungle.

Build a railroad? Makes sense. Build a canal and cut a 3-4 week journey down to a couple of days – another resounding duh. Leaving aside all the issues of illness, road construction, housing construction, dams, and the requirement to deal with all the elevation changes – it is a pretty amazing.

The next consideration to keep in mind is that the Panama Canal is not a straight and simple canal like those with which you might be familiar (Erie, northern Germany, Netherlands) where the entire canal is just dug out, fitted with locks and provides a water route from here to there. This canal combines constructed portions with a large amount of reservoir lake that requires continual dredging and buoys to keep ships on course as they travers its length. As a result, the average ship takes almost 24 hours to navigate the 50 miles.

dams at the locks

After stopping at the Miraflores lock – we headed to Gatun and the visitors center. Watching as ships are towed into the locks then out, bound toward the Atlantic.  

Unlike most paired locks else where, the narrow channel on the one side prevents ships from easily passing each other.

locks ready to fill for the next pair of ships

no mules here - engines as tugs to move the ships

Driving through Panama City in the rain –

it is as modern as you could want

I will skip the mall – it was large, new, echoing and full of shops just as you would expect.

books

and extensive fabrics

From there we headed to the airport where all but 7 of us got off the bus. As it turned out, the bus barn was located less than 1 miles from my hotel and the driver said he would be happy to drop me off on his way back. Imagine my surprise when 20 minutes after an intermediate stop to leave the rest of the crew downtown I wind up across the major road from the Miraflores lock.

The WiFi is free and the customer service is excellent. Maybe because it is part of the training program of the Panama International School of Hotel Management? In any case, I watch the canal and locks from my fifth floor window.

The Coral Princess - heading to the Pacific