Thursday, April 30--Berwick-upon-Tweed & St. Abb's Head

Today we picked up the rental car from Waverley Station. And instantly we figured out what the problem has been with our directions. Evidently Ray has had his left and right mixed up which has made for a lot of confusion with giving directions and understanding his navigator in the passenger seat who says, Turn right at the next intersection—and for some unknown-until-now reason, he turns left!

We navigated our way out to take some of our belongings to the storage locker then decided we would go for a drive out to Berwick-upon-Tweed (pronounced “berrick,” my personal translator has told me). We did roundabouts perfectly today. I was very proud of us. We were confused for a while, though, as the speed limit sign said 70, and Ray was going 70 but everyone else on the road was leaving us behind. We finally surmised that it was 70 MILES per hour not Kilometers. I truly couldn’t figure out why they were using miles instead of kilometers—Canada uses kilometers. Oh well.

They have signs on the dual carriageways that say, “Caution—high risk of deer on road.” Ashley would love that.

So we made it to Berwick-upon-Tweed and went to Spittal also, both lovely little towns right on the coast. The cliffs were shrouded in fog and the lighthouse was very pretty sitting out on the small peninsula. Berwick is situated right on the English border, so I guess we popped back into England for a short time. Had lunch then drove back to check out some campsites we saw on the way. There was a city, also very near the border, called Conundrum and we wondered if it was called that because it couldn’t’ decide which way to go—English or Scottish.

Fractions are done differently here, too—there is no line between the numbers. ½ would be written exactly like that but without the line. Hmmm….

We checked out a few campsites and put them on the maybe list for the summer while we are back in Edinburgh. Then we saw a sign for St. Abbs. I thought I remembered hearing something about it, and we made the turn and headed off down a single-track road, around winding turns and hills, then finally came to a tiny fishing village that was amazing. I will have to let the pictures tell the story because it was just too much for words. Right out of a storybook. We pulled into the car park and got out to look out on the towering cliffs and the crystal clear waters. A stunning rocky coast here and houses dotting the cliffs. I would have loved to stay there for a week or so. Just to hear the waves at night and wake up in the morning to what are probably incredible sunrises. We definitely have to come back.

Then, amazing as it may sounds, we navigated our way back into the city and over South Bridge and down the Royal Mile and into our hotel’s car park. This was even more amazing because when we got to the city, we thought we were coming in on the south side and in actuality it was on the north side. All of a sudden, though, we knew where we were and made our way back.

Then we went in search of dessert and after perusing the menus of every place on the Royal Mile up to St. Giles, we decided on The World’s End pub. Ray had a Guinness and the Lemon Lime Cheesecake, and I had water and the most sinfully delicious dessert I have ever eaten—Sticky Toffee Pudding with ice cream. Oh my goodness. At home I make a really good Scotch Cake, which is an old family recipe that my ex-father-in-law shared with me. It is gooey and has this crackly good icing that leaves everyone wanting more. Well, this Sticky Toffee Pudding would give it a run for its money. Moist chocolate cake with a slightly gooey toffee icing that is warm and just melts in your mouth. Yum.

And I have joined the Edinburgh Pub Tour where you visit and buy a drink at 8 out of 10 of the listed pubs and at the end you get a T-Shirt. So I will get Ray onto the drinking part and I will get the shirt. Sounds fair to me.

This part of our trip has been very nice. Good to see my favorite city again and now we are off on the camping/B&Bing part of the trip. Hopefully all the midges are off on their own vacations—to Australia, or anywhere else but here.

***pictures from top: black pudding that Ray (and only Ray had for breakfast), 2 pictures of St. Abbs Head and harbour, St. Giles Cathedral on the Royal Mile

Wednesday, April 29--Leith

I have decided that Ray and I don't know how to do easy days. There is just so much to do when we travel, so much to see, that we can't just sit around. The maid was just coming out of our room yesterday when we came back from one jaunt, and she asked if she could be nosey and ask where we are going with all the baggage we have in the room. Her name is pronounced Caroleena, I don't know how it is spelled, and she is from Poland. We told her about our trip and had fun talking to her. Then we headed out again--to get more camping equipment, which, by the way, was so much fun to buy.

Same for today--I said it was to be an easy day. Easy, maybe, but not un-busy. We headed up to Leith on the bus with our laundry and found the launderette. While our load washed and dried, we explored the area. There are SO many lovely little bakeries around here with delicious-looking pastries. After the laundry, we headed to the west of the city past Haymarket and on to the Murrayfield area to set up a storage locker for while we are camping. Then back into the city and over to South Bridge to the Argos store where we bought a big duffle bag, hairdryer, pens, and these little speakers for the laptop so that we can watch movies while we are away camping.

Then it was out to Ocean Terminal on the bus just to look around. Our bus ride back to the city went through the Stockbridge area, which is such a lovely area. I hope that Olivia is able to find us a place to stay July-September in this section of Edinburgh.

Funny thing--Ray has always done this, but recently, he has been constantly using this method of remembering things that is so funny. For example, I asked him where he would like to go for dinner tonight, and he said, "Hmmm...how about that Wildflower place."

"Wildflower?" So I search all my memories, trying my best to remember a restaurant called Wildflower. Was it in London or here in Edinburgh? We haven't eaten at that many places and none that I recall being named Wildflower. Come to find out that it was the Wetherspoon pub here in Edinburgh, like the one we ate at in London. Wildflower---Wetherspoon....this is how he files things away. And if it's a street name, well, there is no telling how he will store that in this mind and then not be able to find the place he is looking for. Sometimes it is maddening. : )

Anyway, we went to The Standing Order, a Wetherspoon pub, for dinner. It is housed in this really cool old building that had a poster up about The Counting House, because this building used to be a branch of the Bank of Scotland. It is truly huge in size. The main bar area is large enough to swallow most pubs whole, but there are also a number of other rooms which lead off it. It is, reputedly, still home to the 30 ton safe used when it served as a bank.

We have walked past Balmoral Hotel several times, and, this time, the doorman was standing there wearing a kilt. This is the hotel where J. K. Rowling stayed while she finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in 2007. You can stay in the room (#552) if you have 965 pounds for the night. This room has a brass owl instead of a door knocker.

Back to the room to pack up the things we will be storing while we are away camping.

But before we came back, we went by Marks & Spencers where...oh dear... I found the dessert aisle. Oh my goodness. We had run into this very nice lady (another customer), in the elevator then again in the food hall, who was so helpful and told us that M & S was the ONLY place to buy our food. So much better than anywhere else. She was so sweet. Since I couldn't decide, I ended up buying 3 choices and will spread them out over the next few days--Belgian Milk Chocolate coated AMERICAN peanuts, 2 chocolate eclairs filled with cream, and the cutest little mini coconut tarts!

Judi has informed me that there is indeed lupine in American, in New Hampshire, to be specific, and there is a festival for it!

I have also noticed that I am not having nearly as much trouble with the money here as I have on past trips, when I would basically just hold out my hand and let the cashier take what was appropriate. I guess my brain didn't want to take the time to learn the new currency if I was only here for 2-3 weeks, but since we are here in the UK for at least 5 months, it figures it is worth assimilating.

Tomorrow should TRULY be an easy day. All we have to do is pick up the rental car at Waverley and pack up the car. Likely story, huh?

pictures from top: My yummy desserts for M & S, 2 pictures of The Standing Order, the kilted doorman at the Balmoral Hotel, Edinburgh Castle

Tuesday, April 28--My Edinburgh Address

BRRRRR…Margaret was right; it is COLD up here in Scotland. And it’s a damp cold because it’s been drizzly all day, too. But it’s mostly the wind that gets you; it’s a biting wind that whooshes between the buildings and cuts right through you. I gave in and bought a jacket to keep the wind and weather away.

Oh, I was speaking of the language differences—a “jumper” over here is a “sweater” to us. I remember the first time I ever met Margaret & Colin. We were staying with them at their house, and I forget where we were going, but I asked them if it was okay for me to just wear a jumper to dinner. I got the strangest look from Colin. More explanations necessary. And about the scrunching together of letters in names—Edinburgh is pronounced, “ed-in-bruh.”

This city is so gorgeous. I just can’t believe how lucky I am to be here. EVERY building is amazing and all of them together make a very cool and spooky place. And since I like spooky, it’s perfect for me. Out our hotel room window is the most fascinating view—to the right is the front of a church and to the left is a row of 5-story flats with the chimneys that have all the smaller chimneys in them like in the old days. Oh! I now have my own Edinburgh address!!!

Susan Brouillard
Suite 211
12 South Bridge
Edinburgh, Scotland
EH1 1DD

Isn’t that just the coolest thing!!! Katie told me I should order myself some address labels for fun.

We went to Tiso for our shopping for camping supplies. We bought a really cool tent and got a free mummy sleeping bag and bought another on to go with it. We bought a cook stove and got a free cooking set to go with it. We also bought camping chairs, sporks, insulated mugs, air mattresses, a cute little Coleman lantern, and Avon Skin-So-Soft, for, as we unfortunately learned from one of the guys working there, the midges are already out. OH NO!!! We planned this whole camping part of the trip for May as they aren’t supposed to come out til mid-June! Who let them out early is what I want to know!!!

Hopefully this cool spell will kill them off or it will be breezy or ANYTHING to keep them away. I hate being bit.

Then we bought some groceries and my jacket and a pair of Tartan tights—a very pretty blue plaid!!! Then we went to dinner at this REALLY good Chinese restaurant, Saigon Saigon—I know, no one seems to know why it has a Vietnamese name but is a Chinese restaurant. The food was delicious and the room very comfortable. We definitely intend to return here.

On our way out this morning, we went down Cowgate. The street's name is derived from the fact that cows were herded down it for Edinburgh's market days in previous centuries. Interesting building along here that looks like a cow has jumped thru the building.

Very cold this evening so keeping the window open like we did last night may not be possible. Last night there was the strangest bird sound coming from behind the buildings outside our window. The strangest cawing I have ever heard. I would have loved to have seen what creature made the noise.

Okay, tomorrow hoping to do laundry—I know, hopefully it won’t be as much of a fiasco as in London. Then we are getting a storage space to keep all the things we don’t need while camping. May go out to Rosslyn Chapel. Should be another easy day. Off to have a cup of hot chocolate. Good night!

***pictures from top: view out hotel window to right, then to left, silly Cowgate cow, very pretty Scottish money, architecturally gorgeous building near North Bridge

Monday, April 27--To Edinburgh by Train

Good morning everyone! Well, my sister got her Skype going this morning so I was able to talk to her and her family for awhile. Yay! It makes me feel closer to everyone when I can see them and talk to them.

This swine flu thing is getting scary. The European Union has just issued a warning NOT to travel to the US or Mexico. Wow!

I think Ray and I have become Hobbits. Every morning we seem to have first breakfast and then, a few hours later, second breakfast. We’re not eating anymore than usual—maybe even less—we just seem to be spreading it out instead of eating all at once.

We said goodbye to Margaret then Colin took us to King’s Cross Station. On the way I was noticing the names of establishments and saw a Lupin House. I realized that to British children who read Harry Potter, the names may have been were very common, but, to American children, some of the names probably sounded strange. Lupin, for example. Lupin doesn’t grow in the US, as far as I know. It does grow in Canada for it is the provincial flower of Prince Edward Island, but for children growing up in the south, it probably is an unusual word.

I also saw a store advertising that they sell “batty” fashions. Now unless that is a Halloween costume shop, the word “batty” probably means trendy or something.

Also realized that I would love to get a book, if one exists, that explains the origins of street names, especially those in London. Some of them must have very interesting histories. Colin said that the road we were passing at that moment was known as “Cutthroat Alley” because of murders that took place there a few years ago.

We got to the station in time to catch the 10:30 train to Edinburgh. It goes thru Peterborough, York, Newcastle, then ends up in Edinburgh at Waverley Station 2:30 or so. On our train ride I saw lots of the rape that I saw before—so brilliantly yellow. Also lots of cows and, my favorites, sheep! They were wandering around all together in the field. I did not realize that sheep and cows were on friendly terms. This is birthing time for the sheep, and there were lots of little lambs bouncing about in the fields at their mother’s sides. They go scampering off as the train passes by. Can’t wait to get to Skye to see them up close.

Have found again, and been reminded by my personal translator, Colin, that the Brits have a habit of shortening words. Leicestershire is pronounced “Less-tuh.” The grocery store we went to, Sainsbury’s, is pronounced “Sanes-brees.” Little things that can instantly give away that you aren’t from around here. Tons more examples that I can’t think of at the moment.

We went through Newcastle, which is the center of what used to be the coal-mining region. This is where the saying, “Like taking coals to Newcastle” came from.

Gorgeous cities we passed on our trip—Berwick-upon-Tweed, I have to go back to. It had a lighthouse AND a castle! And the town had that charm that draws you in. And it’s fairly close to Edinburgh, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to pop down there for a visit sometime.

Lulled by the motion of the train, I dozed off a couple of times as we rattled along, the train humming as we lumbered through town after town.

It rained off and on the whole trip, but it stopped just before the train slid into Waverley station in Edinburgh and we cued for a taxi. Thank heavens—for I just didn’t see us lugging all this up to the hotel. The taxi driver was so nice—born here and loves it as much as I do. We arrived early enough to take a walk around my favorite city in the whole world. I had no idea that this hotel was so near the Royal Mile. Honestly, you go out the front door of the hotel and turn left and go to the corner and there you are. It is very near to all the shops I visited on my last trip. And right across the street is the POST OFFICE. No fruitless searches in this city.

We checked out the breakfast menus of all the restaurants and found several that now have meals that sound really good. Then we walked up to Bella Italia—another of my favorites and had my very favorite meal—salmon with potatoes and this tomato/olive/onion mixture drenched in olive oil. It is heavenly!

Then we got some things at Marks & Spencers and some groceries at Sainsbury’s and…wait, I have to point out that the people in this country don’t seem to be able to indicate where things are with arrows. They’ll put up the name of the place or the instructions and just plop in an arrow going any which way and think that is sufficient. Honestly, if you saw this:

Self-service check-out---->
<----Manned tills

Well, wouldn’t you think that to check yourself out you would go to the right and to have them do it for you, you go to the left? Oh, how silly of you. No, BOTH of the lines are to the LEFT, side by side. Does this make any sense? I have seen this over and over on this trip. In the states we go out of our way to indicate how to proceed. Even to the point of BENDING an arrow like a snake to indicate turning right then left then right again. But over here—no help at all. Yes, we figured it out, but not before being in the wrong line. But no great tragedy. I do like that Marks and Spencer charges you 5 pence for using a plastic bag. If you bring in your own or don’t need a bag, it’s no charge. Saves the environment. Go M&S! We Americans are so wasteful. I was so glad that I thought to bring several bags for shopping. Can’t wait until we are here in Edinburgh for a longer stretch of time so I can explore leisurely. Just talked to Judi on Skype, too! Off to bed now for we are hopefully meeting with Olivia from Factotum tomorrow and setting up an apartment for us for our 3-month stay.

***pictures from top: Berwick-upon-Tweed, St. Mary’s Street right across from our hotel, Bella Italia where we had dinner, my dinner!, view of castle across Princes Street Gardens

Sunday, April 26--London Marathon--Run, Ray, Run!

Well, I tried to write the blog for Sunday last night, but I was just so exhausted that it was a wasted effort. I couldn’t even REMEMBER half the day, much less write about it. But then I did want to get some things down before I fell asleep, so here it is 11pm, and I am typing.

I was so excited to be participating in the London Marathon—as a marshal, not a runner, but still…. I had a quick breakfast of roll and croissant and some apple juice, then, to show you just how excited I was, I forgot to eat or drink anything until we got back to the hotel at around 4! I was offered things by Colin and Margaret and friends, but I was still too geared up about the race and trying to find Ray in the crowd of runners to actually ingest anything.

But back to the beginning of the day….Out to the start where Ray and I were helping out by being marshals for the red start group. I had so much fun. We were in charge of keeping the front runners in the red start area in line and move them up to start behind the group in front at the appropriate time. It was fun to talk to and kid around with the runners. They were nervous and very talkative. As the time to begin the race drew near, one of the cute young guy runners gave me his very nice running shirt. He said he didn’t want to just throw it on the ground as he forgot to bring an old one to toss, so why didn’t I take it. So Ray now has a new shirt. Or maybe me for camping as Margaret seems to be concerned that I am going to freeze up in Scotland in our tent. And it is a warm shirt.

We got the runners off then hurried down the hill to try to see Ray as he passed that spot at about mile 6, but he went too fast for us. So back up the hill and onto the Metro where we had this magically moment. As we near the point where you could see the Tower Bridge from the train, the train actually stopped on the tracks! Why, we don’t know, but it allowed for some amazing photographs of the runners headed over the bridge. I like to think that my fairies are working miracles for me all along the way. Colin took a fantastic picture that could be the front page of today’s newspaper! Next it was off the train and over to a spot near the finish to wait there, scanning the groups of runners for a gray singlet and orange shorts. And it was no different from any of his other races—I search and scan for those orange shorts and all of a sudden, EVERYONE seems to be wearing orange shorts! So we waited and waited as we had no idea how fast he was running or even at which mile marker we were standing.

At what turned out to be just before the mile 25 marker, Morna squeezed me into a space on the front, and we waited some more while this crazy, wild man repeatedly blew his horn in our ears and kept cheering, “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley!” when there was clearly no Hayley to be seen. I kept wishing for there to be a miraculous event to occur and whoever this Hayley was would instantly show up and let him finish with the ear-splitting routine, but no, that wouldn’t have helped, as it turns out, for then he started calling out EVERY name on EVERY singlet that passed in the same fashion and would keep on calling until the runner was so far out of sight, he or she couldn’t possibly hear him anymore. Oh wait, yes, they probably could, considering that he had this freakishly loud voice THAT WAS SCREAMING RIGHT INTO MY EAR. My ears were ringing for a while after that.

Morna was the first to see Ray coming towards us, and we began cheering wildly, calling out his name, and he couldn’t have been more than 3 feet from us, but he passed right on by us without even turning our way! He didn’t expect to see us there at that point and was so concentrated on the task at hand, he didn’t even hear us.

We finally met up with him after the race at the Meet & Greet section at about the same time that Margaret called to say that Ray’s finish time was 3:58:23, so he was pleased. Of course, this means he qualified for Boston for 2011, so we all know what THAT means.

This race was handled so well. I loved the way they took care of crowd crossings across the roads. Very efficiently done. And the cleanup—well, at races, runners toss their water bottles aside and tear off their warmer shirts and throw them aside, so that once the runners go by, it almost looks like the farm after Woodstock. But the amazing thing is that almost as soon as the runners were gone, the Greenwich workers swooped in and within what seems like seconds, all the mess was swept away, vacuumed up, or gathered into the skips (dumpsters) for removal. It was like Hogwarts’ wizards flew in and waved their magic wands around and all was made right again. I was impressed.

We came back to the hotel to clean up and went to the Post Race Party held at The Brewery. It was a very nice affair, informal and with all the dignitaries there and all the elite runners, to whom they presented their medals. Poor Ray was so tired and starving by then that soon after they served the food at the buffet and he had eaten, he fell sound asleep sitting straight up! Of course, those of us who know Ray well know that full-tummy syndrome gets him every time.

We weren’t in the hotel room 2 seconds before he collapsed on the bed and was out like a light, probably til morning.

We’ve had a great time seeing Margaret and Colin again and meeting their friends—Morna, Denise, and Peter. And marshalling the race and getting to see some of London. Next we are off on our train trip to Edinburgh for four days then on to camping on Skye and Northern Scotland and the Orkneys—I am so excited! And tired, so if I remember anything I wanted to add about the race, I will add that in tomorrow’s blog. Off to bed now.

***pictures top to bottom: Ray at the red start, Ray with his hidden number, Poor Morna (Scottish) being forced to carry the English Saltire, runners going over the Tower Bridge

Saturday, April 25--Skypeing with Lincoln & Dinner with Friends

Had first light breakfast at 7 then went down to join Margaret & Colin for second light breakfast at 8:30. Walked over to the Sainsbury’s grocers, which is a really cool store. Found everything we needed.

I stayed up late again last night, so I planned to rest today in preparation for tomorrow, but I ended up taking a two hour nap! Ridiculous.

Reading an article today about how this team of technologists in Chicago has invented this film material that can store the equivalent of 250 DVDs on the space of a quarter. Amazing. Now if they can just invent a machine that shrinks luggage to the size of a quarter with all your stuff inside until you get to your destination and can enlarge it to normal size again. That would’ve been SO handy on this trip.

Dinner tonight at China Noodle with Margaret, Colin, Morna, Denise, Barbara, Mary & Paul. Yummy.

When we returned to the hotel, I Skyped with Lincoln who told me all about his new car and the house he bought with people in it. Tried to get him to “share” his bowl of grapes with me, then he sent me bunches of kisses as we said goodbye.

Early to bed tonight as the race is tomorrow morning. Ray is running the London Marathon and both of us are marshalling. Hopefully the weather will cooperate and be dry but cool.

***pictures from top: Ray pinning on his number, Ray holding up wall of hotel room--no, actually he is stretching : )

Friday, April 24--Meeting up with Margaret & Colin

Over a quick breakfast, I convinced Ray that taking a taxi to the hotel would make SO much more sense than making one trip over on the Metro and another later or getting Colin to bring him back over for the luggage, so that makes our day so much easier.

We went thru a pedestrian subway today on our way to the post office. This postal location was so close all this time, we probably even went by it several times, but it was tucked away so you couldn’t see it from the main road.

It was right by this tall building they are constructing out of steel. Lincoln would love to watch the guys traipsing all over the beams.

On the way back to the hotel, there was a sign with an arrow that said “Isle of Dogs” and had a picture of a bicycle on it. Will have to ask Colin about that one. (I did ask—Isle of Dogs is a real place, and Colin took us to see it today.)

Speaking of interesting questions—I was at the little store the other day and saw a product called Yazoo in the refrigerated case. Yazoo…it was a chocolaty drink that I suspect is very much like, if not exactly the same as, our Yoo-Hoo drinks. It is interesting to see how things are labeled differently and wonder if there was some advertising research group that worked on this and said, “Oh, no, the brand name Yoo-Hoo is not sophisticated enough for us Brits, or if it worked the other way around and the US advertisers thought the name Yazoo wasn’t hillbilly enough for us. And who thought of putting lime slices in Pepsis over here? If you asked for a lime slice in your soda at home, the waiter would look at you as if you had lost your mind, but here, that’s how it comes.

And I’m sitting here staring at our hotel’s windows. They have these cable thingies so that you can open the windows just enough to let air in but no more than 3 inches. There is an orange sign at the bottom of the window pane that says “WARNING: For your safety this window is restricted.” What do they think I am going to do? Jump out and kill myself on the Metro tracks if one more train goes by at 10:30pm when I am trying to get to sleep, or at 6am when the first-in-the-morning train is a wake-up call whether you want it or not? Okay, maybe the restriction is a good thing after all.

It is quieter up here on the fifth floor, but we are still facing the tracks. As a child, I used to wish that we lived beside railroad tracks. I thought it would be great to see the trains go by and wave at the engineer and wonder where they were going. I loved hearing the clacking over the rails and the whistle as it blew and floated over the trees to our house from way far away down on Main Street. I still think it’s kind of cool, but I don’t think I would want to LIVE here forever. They would have to put BARS on the windows if I did--bars only 1 inch apart, for that 3 inches wouldn’t stop me.

Oh, and “jacket potato.” That is so cute. A jacket potato is a baked potato still in its skin or “jacket,” like it’s wearing a little coat. This is to distinguish it from mashed or chips—which are really our French Fries. And it is so neat to go into a pub to eat. You go in and sit at a table and look over the menu, then you go up to the bar to order your food and give the bartender your table number and they bring the food out to you. So much simpler than the way we do it, waiting around forever until your waiter notices that you are ready to order.

Many more kinds of cuisine over here. More Thai and curry meals, but also the others like Italian and Chinese. More places for Sushi—Ashley would love that. More fried eggs than scrambled—rare to see the option for scrambled eggs over here. Cold pork and beans and half of a tomato served with most breakfast dishes. New thing I’ve only seen on this trip—a flat mushroom also served with every breakfast, and it is very good. And their bacon is like our Canadian bacon, there is no bacon like ours over here. Much more healthy food offerings in the UK. Oh, and that Banoffee (banana & toffee) cheesecake again—I won’t be fooled this time. Last time I was here by myself, I ordered the Banoffee cheesecake out on the Isle of Harris, thinking that it was cheesecake from some island named Banoffee. Only after I ate a bite and tasted the bananas in it (an allergy of mine) did I realize why it was called this. : ) Delicious, but I couldn’t take the chance on eating more.

Many more smokers over here than in the States. And EVERYONE is always talking on their cellphones and calling each other “mate.” I think that is so cool. “Top up” is a common expression—can I top up your coffee, we need to top up our metro card. I am already having to translate things for Ray. Someone will rattle off a question to him—in English—and both the person and I will look to Ray for answer and he looks at me as if to say he didn’t understand a word of what was said. Heaven help me when we get to Scotland.

Very nice people we have run into. While searching for a post office the other day, I stopped to buy a bottle of This Water—a really cool brand that said its water was made from fruit and CLOUDS! I loved it. Anyway, I was asking the cashier if she knew where the post office was, and she didn’t and asked the cashier beside her, who knew there used to be one nearby, but she didn’t know if it was still there, and this very nice-looking young gentleman said Excuse me, could he help. And he very patiently proceeded to tell me where 3 post offices were, giving me directions for each one in case one was closed, etc. He was very nice.

I am doing much better this trip about looking the correct way before crossing the street. In the past, this has been a real problem for me, so ingrained was I to look left at all times. Here, some of them say--and they do say it, printed right on the curb for us stupid Americans to avoid getting squooshed—LOOK LEFT or LOOK RIGHT. And this time, for some unknown reason, it is coming naturally to me.

Very strange request at the post office this morning. We were waited upon by an Indian man who very nicely took care of us and just as we were about to leave, he asked if we might have a moment so he could ask us a question. I smiled and he said, “I was wondering if you would be interested in a Postal Life Insurance policy.” What??? A Postal Life Insurance policy? What is that? And why did he think we needed it? Does he think we are about to head off into the next intersection and be run over by a double-decker bus? Or is it specifically for Postal situations—you only get the pay-out benefit if you are hit by a POSTAL truck. Or if you shoot yourself because you are unable, after five days of fruitless searching, to even FIND a post office. I found it very strange. I answered, no, thank you, that we were only here for a short time. And he nodded his head as if he, the all-knowing one, knew that already. Freaky.

Lugged all of our luggage downstairs for the taxi to take us to the Holiday Inn at Greenwich—much nicer than our Travelodge. It actually has air conditioning and no trains at the window, imagine that. Very nice to see Margaret and Colin again and to meet their friend, Morna, from Scotland. We went over to the O2 to get Ray’s race number, then Colin drove us over to see the new Olympic venues for the 2012 Olympics. Oh, and their logo for the Olympics is very interesting. I will include a picture here. Isn’t it strange that for something so important, the advertisers or promoters or whoever decides such things can come up with nothing better than this and Atlanta’s super fantastically stupid What-Izit? I mean really, can’t we get better minds to work on this?

We hung out with Margaret, Colin, and Morna afternoon then went to dinner in Greenwich at La Cucina di Soteri. When we arrived at 5:30, the door was open but there was a chair blocking the way. Colin asked a gentleman inside when they would be open, and his very friendly answer was, “When the staff arrives.” So we walked around the block, past the Cutty Sark, and thru the little market, then back to the restaurant that was now open and we were greeted warmly. We sat down to the most delicious meal. I had the Bruschetta and Lasagna, as did Morna and Margaret, and it was a very relaxing evening.

We took Morna to Denise’s house and Margaret played tour guide to show me Denise’s lovely home. Then it was back to the hotel for a restful night’s sleep.

***pictures from top: what Ray wrote on the Olympics 2012 wall, logo for the 2012 Olympics in London

Thursday, April 23--Launderette & Tower Bridge

Easy day. Quick breakfast then Ray went off to do laundry at a launderette near the Earl’s Court Metro Station. Back in no time and we headed off to Tower Bridge and St. Katharine’s Dock to take the Circular River Cruise up to Westminster and back. Sites along the way included The Dungeon, St. Paul’s Cathedral, The Monument—built by Christopher Wren to commemorate the 1666 London Fire; it looks like a candle with the golden flame on top—the London Boys School, the replica of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, The London Eye, Parliament Buildings, and, of course, the Tower Bridge itself.

We thought we were the luckiest people in London today when we got off the boat and found that they were supposed to open the Bridge today at 4:15. There was a beautiful ship named “Hydrogen” with a lot of dignitaries onboard that was preparing to go under, but the bridge never opened and the ship docked right in front of us as if waiting. We waited for a while, too, but finally gave up when someone said they had checked online and the opening had been cancelled. Turns out that the ship was built in 1906 and is the largest surviving wooden barge in the world.

Early dinner where I found out that I like ales a lot better than beers. Evidently, beer has hops but ales don’t. I greatly prefer the taste of ales. The pub we’ve been eating at is having an ale festival, so I have tasted a few, though with the alcohol content over here so much higher than at home, I don’t dare take more than a couple of sips.

Repacking our things and preparing to move over to the hotel with Margaret and Colin. Ray is watching the weather closely and they seem to be predicting rain for Sunday, but we hope not. Oh, and today is St. George's Day, so I suppose we should go out and slay a dragon. I think I spotted one in the middle of the street yesterday, as a matter of fact.

***pictures from top: me at the London Eye on our river cruise, Tower Bridge

Wednesday, April 22--Westminster Abbey

I keep thinking that eventually we will have a slow day, but there is just so much to see and do here in Jolly Old England. Breakfast at Goodman's Field (Wetherspoon) where I had scrambled eggs on toast that reminded me of how much I loved it as a child. Then off to buy Ray an Oyster Card and top up the one Margaret gave to me. We took the Metro to the Westminster station and headed to Westminster Abbey. There were demonstrators near Parliament, and, behind the Abbey, newsmen were setting up for something important for they had a bomb-sniffing dog—a really cute English Springer Spaniel—out running around, checking everything out.

The Abbey was founded in the 10th century. Then most Christians in Europe accepted the authority of the Roman Catholic Church and the Pope. In the 16th century the Reformation brought about the independence of the Church of England from Rome. Since the crowning of William the Conqueror here in 1066, the Abbey has been the nation’s Coronation church.

Burial in the Abbey was a privilege mainly for a few of the aristocracy in the Middle Ages, but it became much more common after this and began to fill with tombs. Today around 3000 people are buried in the church and cloisters, and there are over 600 tombs, monuments, and memorials. The Lady Chapel is especially beautiful with its stained glass, colorful flags and vaulting. Both Elizabeth I and her half-sister Mary I are buried here. Other monarchs buried here are James, I, Charles II, William and Mary, Queen Anne, George II, Henry VII and his queen Elizabeth of York, and Mary Queen of Scots.

Just outside the chapel is the Coronation Chair that is used when a new king or queen is coronated. It held the Stone of Scone—used when Scottish kings took office—but this was returned to Scotland in 1996.

My favorite part was the Poet’s corner. It was not originally designated as the burial place of writers, playwrights, and poets. The first poet to be buried here, Geoffrey Chaucer, was laid to rest here because he had worked at the Abbey, not because he had written the Canterbury Tales. Later Edmund Spenser joined him there.

And burial or memorials in the Abbey didn’t always occur at or soon after the time of death. The creator of two of my favorite poems (“She Walks in Beauty” & “When We Two Parted”), Lord Byron’s lifestyle caused a scandal though his poetry was much admired. He died in 1824 but was finally given a memorial only in 1969. Even Shakespeare, who was buried at Stratford-upon-Avon in 1616, had to wait until 1740 until a monument appeared here in the Abbey.

Some of the more famous to lie here are Alfred, Lord Tennyson (creator of “Break, break, break”) Robert Browning, Charles Dickens, Rudyard Kipling, Thomas Hardy, Sir Laurence Olivier, and Handel.


Those with memorials here included Milton, William Wordsworth, Keats, Shelley, Burns, William Blake, T. S. Eliot, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Jane Austen, Sir Walter Scott, all three Bronte sisters, Lewis Carroll, Longfellow

Near the quire (yes, that’s how it is spelled in the Abbey, unlike our choir) and in the nave was the monument to Sir Isaac Newton, who is buried just in front of it. This memorial was used in the DaVinci Code when Robert is trying to figure out the code for the cryptex. The grave of Charles Darwin and other prominent scientists are near by. Winston Churchill is just inside the west entrance.

It was amazing to walk amongst them all.

Then we walked through St. James Park and over to Buckingham Palace where people were gathered for what we assumed was the changing of the guard, but all we saw was a Scottish Regiment making their way down to the gates of the palace to the strains of bagpipes. The gates opened and let them in and we went on our way to Harrods, where we had lunch at a café and did some window-shopping. Harrods opened in 1849 and has 7 floors that cover over 4.5 acres, including 30 restaurants.

Then it was back to Temple Church to get some pictures that I missed yesterday. Then to find a post office, which turned out to be just as illusive as the launderette. Evidently, the postal service here likes to play tricks on you and move the offices around or just make them disappear all together. Of the 4 that we searched for from the information on the map, only one actually existed. We heard tales of, “Oh, I think there was one there years ago, but I don’t know…..Yes, they closed it, but you can go up this street and round the corner and ….on and on...but none of them were where they were supposed to be. But we finally just happened upon one where there wasn't even supposed to be one!

Exhausted by yet another non-stop day of activities, we have decided to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING tomorrow. I don’t care if the Queen herself calls—okay, well, maybe in that case, but….

So after a quick dinner and stop off for treats, we are in the hotel and beginning our “doing nothing” stage of the trip. Don’t expect much of a blog for tomorrow if we manage to keep our promise to each other to rest. : ) But if we do anything, I will be sure to let you know.

***pictures from top: flowers at Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Knights Templar atop column, Temple Church stained glass

Tuesday, April 21--Temple Church in London

Woke up early and decided to organize our things a bit better, then Ray got the idea to change our room to one on a higher floor here at the Travelodge Tower Bridge so there would be less train noise. So we asked and are now in our room on the top floor and IT has internet access, so I am happy. Didn’t realize how much I would miss being online until it wasn’t available.

Enjoyed a traditional English breakfast at Wetherspoon at Table 43—our new home base for eating out, I think. It has everything including a pub and the food is really good.

Back to the hotel so I could get my internet fix and catch up with everybody. Ray has gone in search of a Laundromat—I guess that’s what they are called here. Self-service laundry? Anyway, when he returns, we will probably head out to do our chores—laundry, mail, seat reservations for next Monday on BritRail to Edinburgh, shopping. That should just about be a day’s worth, but if not, we always have the British Museum and Westminster Abbey we can pop in to see. So nice to be in a country where we speak the same language—aaah, aaah, aaah Colin, I know what you are thinking!!

Well, Ray did return but without finding the mythical laundry that everyone speaks of but no one knows how to find. So maybe we won’t have as many chores as we thought. Need to find boxes before I can mail off packages, so that’s off the list. Checked on BritRail seat reservations, but the agent said that we should wait to make them until ready to travel as when seat reservation is made, it validates the ticket and our 60 days to use it begins then. We still need the pass to get us back from Southampton on June 25th, so if she is correct, we need to wait until Monday when we are traveling. I don’t think she was correct, but we may have to wing it.

While I’m thinking about it, I need to mention that we have been walking SO much everyday ever since our first port in Lisbon. Legs exhausted at the end of every day, but then we get up and go at it again. So much to see!

We walked from our hotel to Temple Church, one of the locations in the DaVinci Code. This church was built by the Knights Templar, the round church being consecrated in 1185. The Knights Templar were an order of crusading monks founded to protect pilgrims on their way to and from Jerusalem in the 12th century. Their history is fascinating and filled with secret legends. It was very rare for a monk to also be a soldier. They took vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. The symbol for the Knights Templar is of 2 knights on one horse, recalling their lack of horses and their poor beginnings. They wore a white mantel over their armour with a red cross on their breast—a distinctive red cross with equal “legs.”

On the stone floor of the round church are several effigies of knights lying out with their swords and shields ready. These commemorate patrons of the Knights Templar who are buried here. In 5 of the effigies, the legs are crossed—believed to be this way to show movement, as if the knight is walking towards the viewer. Many of these effigies were broken in 1941 in a fire caused when a German incendiary bomb landed on the roof causing it to catch fire and collapse. There had been an earlier fire in the winter of 1678. There was no water because of the freezing temperatures, so they fought the fire with beer. It was 6 years before they settled the bill with the brewer.

Between the arches of the church are gargoyles, which seem strange to be INSIDE a church. The stained glass windows are beautiful and show the Cross of the Templars, the vows of the Templars, and the 2 knights on 1 horse, among other symbols.

While walking back to the hotel, we looked down this alleyway and saw the beautiful bell tower of a church and decided to explore. Just as we got to the door, a man unlocked the church and let us in. This was St. Bride’s Church on Fleet Street, dedicated to the press, printing and journalists. There is an altar near the front where journalists and writers from across the world are remembered, especially those who died in the line of duty. After the Great Fire of 1666, Sir Christopher Wren rebuilt the church with a spire that’s been described as a “madrigal in stone.”

After the church was bombed in 1940, the crypts were excavated and a Roman house was discovered, along with fragments of a Roman pavement dating from the 2nd century. There have been 6 churches on this site. Some of the archaeological finds established that in the 6th century, St. Brigit (St. Bride) of Ireland had founded the first Christian church here.

We bought some apples and chocolate at the Tesco store—they had Krispy Kreme doughnuts! which I resisted--then went back to the hotel to do some research for tomorrow before we walked over to Wetherspoon again—this time Ray had the Large Mixed grill with every kind of meat you can imagine, and I had the salmon with a jacket potato (baked potato) and a Pepsi, into which they put a lime slice—go figure. And no puddings--as the Brits call dessert. The Paul O’Grady show was just coming on as we left for dinner, so maybe I can catch it tomorrow. And Katie called on Skype!—so good to “hear” from her.

Very nice day. Hoping to do Westminster Abbey and British Museum tomorrow and maybe Harrods. Oh, funy thing I heard on TV. A comedian was saying a common American expression, only on our TV he would say the real word and it would be bleeped out. Here, he actually said, "What the four-x's?!" It took me a minute to figure it out. : )

***pictures from top: Knights Templar in effigy at Temple Church, stained glass at Temple Church

Monday, April 20--April in Paris

So, to continue our lovely Trenitalia train trip—which I am not even sure WAS the correct train for us to be on, although it is the only one that showed up and it had the correct numbers on it, and no one, unfortunately, showed up to say that we were in their cabin:

So we were up and SO ready to get off when it finally arrived at Paris Bercy station. We dragged our luggage—oh, I forgot to mention that NOWHERE on this train trip did ANYONE help any passengers with their luggage. If there was an old lady struggling to get up the steps with her heavy luggage, and Ray hadn’t helped her, no one would have—certainly not the conductor who stood there watching her struggle.

So, we were gratefully at the final station and stood in a cue to get a taxi and arrived at the Paris Gare du Nord station where we promptly got lost trying to find the Eurostar office—which, in all the hustle, we had passed right by as we had entered the station. Then we had to wait until 1pm to check in but finally got in and had a nice lounge to wait in for our 4:13 train. Had a slice of delicious coconut flan and an apple juice while Ray ate 2 sandwiches. Just realized we are here in this month--April in Paris--like the song!

Boarded Chunnel train on time—THEY are always on time—and had a very pleasant trip under the English Channel and up to London. We kept seeing these fields upon fields of yellow stalky plants/flowers that were so brilliantly sunny yellow—I have to find out what they were. Ray’s guess is alfalfa to feed the cattle. The farmers seemed to plant one huge field of them then the next left green so that it looked like a huge patchwork quilt as we sped past going 160mph or more. (***Kate, Margaret & Colin have emailed to say that it is rape--what we call canola. Thanks, Guys!)

The bravest, most dare-devilish taxi driver took us to our hotel near Tower Bridge. He sped around corners and thru intersections, just barely missing pedestrians and bicyclists. Kind of fun actually. Our hotel is not the most luxurious to say the least, but it is basic and clean and in a very nice area. Sheets on bed not silky soft, but it does have the comforter-inside-two-sheets setup that I like. No air-conditioning, which surprised me, but it hasn’t really been needed with the cool air wafting in thru the window. The window that looks out on a Metro train station—which is a great wakeup service as they start running at 6am. And we wouldn’t want to forget our so far so lovely train experiences, would we? So here is a constant reminder—the clack, clack over the rails. Actually, I do kind of like it. Lincoln would LOVE it.

No hairdryer or washcloths, but that doesn’t surprise me from former visits in the UK. We cleared our bags of anything no longer needed and ended up with 2 trash bags full, so that’s good.

Found a GREAT restaurant just around the corner, which may be our new hangout for this short trip—Wetherspoons. Good food, good prices, and free WiFi internet connections. Hopefully that will go well and I will get to post these blog entries without any trouble.

So here is where I went to bed—dead tired.

Sunday, April 19--We Arrive in Rome to Board the Sleeper Train

Well, the disembarkation from the ship and getting thru Customs in Civitavecchia was a breeze. There WAS no Customs routine at all. We just got off the ship, found our luggage, and walked out to the shuttle—no one even checked our passports! We knew that there was a 10-15 minute walk to the train station, but, out of nowhere just outside the port gate as we began walking, there appeared this guy with a cart who offered to haul our luggage up the street for us for 1 euro per bag—well, we took him up on it, and, since he went at super speed, we were able to catch the earlier train. We bought our tickets for a total of 9 euros (beats the 150 euros to take us into Rome in a taxi!) and caught the 7:59 train. Didn’t even get to use my practiced Italian for getting the tickets: “Due biglietti per Roma Termini, per favore,” as Ray got the tickets and just spoke English. Pretty basic train and the restroom—wow! You have never had the full restroom experience until you are trying to hover over a toilet seat in a train that is bobbing and weaving on the tracks.

Got to Rome and had quite a time finding the place to deposit our luggage, but once we did, we were off for our Rome Illuminations Walk that I created based on the “Angels and Demons” sites.

I didn’t do the sites in the order of the book but in a progression based on location, due to the limited amount of time we had available. Oh, and I guess I should mention that it rained the entire time, so we sloshed thru the drenching showers to get to every location.

First stop, the # 2 site (air)---St. Peter’s Square where I looked for and found the elliptical block at the base of the white marble pyramid. It is Bernini’s West Ponente blowing the wind due east towards the Church of Santa Maria della Vittoria.

We were also going to do the Basilica while we were here, but the line was SO very long, we would’ve never gotten in and still been able to do our tour. So off to our next site, (#5---church of the Illuminati)---the Castel Sant’Angelo on the banks of the Tiber River. It is a huge, very imposing stone structure—a circular castle within a square fortress, all within a park shaped like a pentagram. I took several pictures of the Bronze angel with his sword pointing downwards, the balcony underneath, and the Bridge of Angels.

Next we crossed the Tiber to get to the Piazza Navona, our #4 site—water, outside the Church of St. Agnes in Agony where we found the Fountain of the Four Rivers with the Bernini obelisk. This fountain is absolutely amazing in its detail, and the dove beak on top did indeed point to the Castel.

We walked back to the Tiber and followed the river up to where we turned right to get to the Piazza del Popolo. We found the Church of Santa Maria del Popolo (#1 site—earth) and went inside. Very silly of me, but I did the whole facing the altar and pointing with my thumb backwards over my left shoulder stuff that Robert did in the book. And there it was—in a recessed alcove were the statues of Habakkuk and the Angel, intertwined and pointing SW to St. Peter’s Square. Sadly, the two figures were partially obscured as someone had covered them for repairs or something, so I could see most of his arm but not his hand. And the whole floor was covered, so I couldn’t see the mosaic described as the “demon’s hole entrance” in the book. But what we did see, including the altar, was fascinating.

We stopped in at little pizza place near the Piazza del Popolo and had the most delicious ham and cheese pizza slices.

Then we took the Metro to Barberini station and walked up to the Church of Santa Maria della Vittoria (#3 site—fire) where we found others waiting on the steps as the church is closed from 12-4:30 everyday. So I didn’t get to see the St. Teresa Ecstasy statue with the angel on her back and his spear pointing west to Piazza Novena, but I did take pictures of the church. And now I am “Illuminated!”

Then it was back to the Roma Termini station, passing by amazing feats of architecture at every step along our way. We were drenched by the time we arrived and decided to do our souvenir shopping inside the station. We mailed off postcards and then Ray remembered that we had Premier Class tickets so we could use the Club Eurostar lounge—made a huge difference as it was damp outside even under the canopies.

I was sitting there in the lounge on the comfy sofa and saw a young girl and her grandmother reading together over in the corner. The girl’s whole family was there, but she and her grandmother were laughing and having such a good time, it made me smile. The grandmother looked up and saw me and smiled so sweetly. When they got up to go to the restroom, they came over to me and the grandmother rattled off a long sentence in Italian and I had to try to tell her “Parlo non l’Italiano,” in my best Italian, which is not very good at all. She seemed surprised, but she reached down and hugged my arm then they went on their way. When they came back, the young girl came over and stood right in front of me with the sweetest smile. So I said, “Mi chiasmo Susan,” and pointed to her, and she said “Mi chiasmo Julia,” but it sounded more like "Shulia". Anyway, this began a non-stop conversation between Julia and me where we would ask each other questions and laugh when we couldn’t understand each other. I have to admit that she was much better at the bit of English she knew than I was at Italian. We were only going to be in Rome for one day, so I actually spent more time on Spanish, Portuguese, and French.

For the next 2 hours, Julia sat right up under me with my Rick Steves’ Italian book, explaining the pronunciations to me and asking me questions. She thought it was absolutely amazing that I had been a teacher. She takes English lessons from her teacher on Mondays, and she said HER teacher was very severe—“sev-air-ay” meanig strict. But that I was a very “Brava (good) and gentile (kind) insegnante (teacher).” It was the highest compliment! Her family got in on our conversation, and we ended up learning all about each other, though they didn’t speak English hardly at all. I think her mother was happy that she was getting the practice with me. It was frustrating not to be able to ask more interesting questions, but it was also a lot of fun “talking” with Julia and finding out that she was 8 years old, lives in Calabria, was in Rome on a short vacation, and loves to swim. She asked all about me, too—wanted to know if I had any children, so I—using Italian and a lot of demonstrative hand motions—told her about Laura and Katie and about Lincoln. Well, that got her 4-year-old brother into the conversation, too, so we had the best time. He seemed to think it was hilarious that I didn’t understand him.

When it was time for Julia’s train, she came up to me and hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. We all said goodbye and told each other to have a good journey—all in Italian, and they seemed very impressed that I knew the correct words. I asked Julia if I could take her picture and she seemed delighted and smiled so big. I will always remember how much fun it was to pass the waiting time with her.

Well, then it was time for our overnight sleeper train—you know, the luxury cabin with the double bed and our own bathroom and shower and meals included? Well, guess what? All a lie. This train wasn’t much better than the train we took earlier in the day—as a matter of fact, considering that we paid so much for it, it was actually worse. First of all, if you described our cabin as a shoebox, you would be being extremely generous. With all our luggage in, we barely had room to stand up. We had to take turns getting up to do anything. Seriously, if Ray sat on the sofa and stretched out his leg, it hit the wall on the opposite side. So about 5’ x 6’ at the most. The meals included part? No deal. It was to be 28 euros per person for dinner not including tip, so we ate from the snack bar instead—I had fruit and a piece of cake and ate my Goobers chocolate covered peanuts I had saved for a special occasion—oh wow, was this special.

And the private bathroom? No bathroom at all except for at the end of the train car. And no shower. We did have a miniature sink that you pumped water into with a pedal on the floor. If it hadn’t been for the window, I would have been so claustrophobic. After a while, it got to be hilarious, and we laughed our way through the evening.

And, dont get me wrong, there were some advantages to having a cabin so small:

1) You didn’t EVER need to get up off the sofa for anything. You want an apple: reach to your side to get apple out of backpack and without moving feet at all, lean forward 2 inches to wash apple at sink by pumping the hot water pedal. Viola!

2) Legs feel tired? Prop them on one of the suitcases scattered on the floor—no, not scattered as that would imply room on the floor—so, I guess stacked would be better. And for real luxury, just prop your legs up on the opposite wall, without even stretching.

3) Get lost from your traveling partner? Not in this cabin. Turn your head and he is there—nowhere else he could be, unlike on that terribly inconvenient huge ship we just got off of where we got lost from each other at least once a day.

4) And the beds—yes, beds—bunk beds—turned into such by our cabin steward, who was never seen again. Because there was so little room on top between bed and ceiling, I slept on bottom and got to stare at myself all night since the mirror for the cabin was on the bottom of Ray’s bunk! And you know what? There was actually a THIRD bunk bed that we could’ve let down, had there been—thank heavens there wasn’t—a third person in the room. And the pillows were so conveniently wrapped in the crinkliest plastic possible with no pillowcases provided. So crinkle, crinkle all night long. But at least I didn’t miss a single stop on this trip.



What would I have done if I couldn’t have known that we stopped in—and I kid you not—Canzas! Wobbling my way down the hall to the bathroom at 2:30am and run into some window contraption for my umpteenth bruise and look out to see the station and its sign. Yes, it was like a cruel joke—reminding me that we may truly be in Oz where nothing makes any sense anymore. The resultant laughing kept me awake another 20 minutes while we sat dead still in the station—loading horses of a different color, I suppose. At least the hallways were clear at that time of the morning, unlike the rest of our 14 hours, 23 minute stay (which turned into 16 hours with all the stops thrown in) when, and I can’t blame them, people stood in the halls which were only wide enough for one SMALL person, so someone had to step back into their cabin to allow you to pass.

Has the term “cattle car” come to mind yet?

Ray says he will be taking this up with Rail Europe soon. It’s not so much that it was terrible; if we had known what we were getting, we would’ve been fine with it, but to see the pictures on the website compared to what we actually received is nothing less than false advertising.

AND we learned soon after leaving the station that this wasn’t the express train they had advertised either—we made at least 20 stops throughout the night—so guess who got no sleep at all?

AND because I knew I didn’t have a bathroom easily accessible, guess who had to go to the bathroom 5 times during the night? Down a narrow, rocking and bumpy hallway. Not one of our better ideas to say the least.

And because I got no sleep last night, I am going to close now and do today’s blog tomorrow. And get some much needed rest. : )

**pictures from top: Castel Sant'Angelo, how to parallel park in a tight squeeze!, Habakkuk & the angel at Church of Santa Maria del Popolo, Julia, our "private luxury" bath on the train from Rome to Paris

Saturday, April 18--Monaco

Today we are in the principality of Monaco, the entirety of which is only half the size of New York City’s Central Park, only a single square mile. The first inhabitants here were the Ligurian tribe in the 6th century, and the Greeks dubbed them the Monokos, but they didn’t remain here very long as there was no arable land or shelter. It was a Greek settlement until it was taken over by the Romans.

One story tells of a group of Grimaldis dressed up as monks who sneaked up to the castle and overtook it. There is a statue of Malizia, the “monk” who lead the attack, right at the palace. The other conflicting story has the Grimaldis as a real band of monks, arriving in 1297, buying the land from the Genoese, and settling in the fortress. No one seems to know which is the true story.

Monaco was often embroiled in war, and there were frequent pirate attacks, but the clever Grimaldis usually played one side against the other for advantage. In the 17th century, the French king granted Honore Grimaldi II the title of prince in return for a pledge of allegiance to France. The Grimaldis are still the world’s oldest monarchy. In 1861, Charles II had to surrender the areas of Menton and Roquebrune to France after they declared their independence. This meant a loss of revenue, so Charles III instituted the Grand Casino in 1878 to save himself from bankruptcy and therefore being taken over by France. Due to the huge success of the casino, Charles was then able to abolish taxation for his people. (Wouldn’t that be nice? I told Ray that he was looking for a place to live with no taxes—here we are!!!)

Monaco isn’t really a country but more like a family project passed from one generation to another. The Grimaldi family has shaped this country and kept it exciting. Grace Kelly of Philadelphia married the Prince Rainier of Monaco at the cathedral here, and now the revered crypt is the royal tomb for the two of them. When they married—on April 19, 1956, by the way—I assumed the rich Prince Rainier took care of all the expenses, but actually her father paid for the very elaborate wedding.

The city is very clean, not a bit of graffiti or trash to be found anywhere. The streets are perfectly groomed, and there are lush gardens and chic boutiques everywhere—Chopard, Chanel, Rolex.

We followed Tom’s directions—finally correct for a change—and got off the ship, went thru the information center and up the rock steps then around The Rock where the fortress is and up 2 escalators, one elevator, then 2 more escalators to get up to the old part of the city. We kept walking past the Oceanographic Museum & Aquarium (where Jacques Cousteau was curator for a long time) and on up the hill to the Cathedral where Grace and Prince Rainier were married and where their crypts are laid out side by side near the altar.

We walked on up the hill to the palace where you could see that they had used the old castle and built newer living quarters onto the rear. The flag was up, which supposedly means that Prince Albert is at home. We watched and took a video of the changing of the guard (Les Carabiniers du Prince) and did our little bit of shopping—lots of souvenir shops here.

Then we walked down the hill to get on the little sightseeing train that drives you all around Monaco. It took us past where they are setting up for the Grand Prix in May. The grandstands were up and preparations were being made. The guide said it takes 6 weeks to put them up and 3 weeks to take them all down. The sign for the start/finish line is up already. What fun that would have been to sit on the deck of our ship and watch as the Formula 1 cars screamed by!

We went past the L’Eglise Sainte-Devote—the little church dedicated to a Christian saint who washed ashore in a boat here. Drove past the Hermitage Hotel, designed by Eiffel. Then we headed into the REALLY rich area—over near Le Grand Casino de Monte-Carlo. This is where the James Bond movies take place, and I think one of the Oceans 11 movies was set here, too. Kept my eye out for Brad & George. : ) This is in La Condamine shopping area where one appetizer alone costs 70 Euros at the Louis XV Restaurant right across from the casino—needless to say, we didn’t eat here. Didn’t go into the Casino either as you had to show your passport, and they have a strict dress code. Pictures of the outside were elaborate enough for me. On the walk back to the ship, we ran into a nice lady named JoBee who was trying to find a shorter way back to the ship, so she walked along with us. At lunch back on the ship, I allowed myself the sinfully good desert of bread pudding with vanilla sauce.

The views from our ship’s 9th floor deck on the bow were great. We stayed out there watching the hang gliders floating down from the high French mountains above and the amazingly huge yachts in the harbour. Had fun watching a small sailboat negotiate tacking out of the harbour amidst several other boats and causing havoc everywhere. And exciting watching a big yacht try to “park” in several spaces then give up and go on to try the next over and over again until he finally parked his big yachts between two even bigger yachts that made his look like a miniature.

The houses are so closely packed here but are elaborate—lovely balconies overflowing with flowers. It is the most densely populated country in the world at 42,000 people per its one square mile.

And now it is time to prepare for the next leg of our journey—packing and organizing. We arrive in Rome tomorrow and will do our “Angels & Demons” tour that I created, and then we’ll board the overnight sleeper train to Paris in the evening. Just keeping my fingers crossed and hoping that we get thru Customs without any hassles. Hope everybody stays safe and has a great weekend. Will be in touch again when we get internet service set up at the hotel in London—hopefully Monday night, but we’ll see. Take care.

***pictures: Monaco (Monte Carlo) & this amazing light coming thru stained glass window and hitting on floor of Cathedral

Friday, April 17--Barcelona, Spain

Well, today was yet another wonderful day. I suppose I should admit to a misconceived preconception about Spain. I had always thought it would be very much like Mexico, which is not one of my favorite places. But no, Spain is gorgeous and cultured and clean. As a matter of fact, Ray and I are trying to figure out some way to work in another, longer stay in Barcelona, the capital city of Catalonia. It’s just so big with so much to see that we would really like to return at some point in this trip or maybe on another trip.

We were off the boat by 8:00am and headed into town by taxi to the Placa de Catalunya where we strolled around waiting for the Hop On/Hop Off bus to arrive. We took the red route bus and passed by Gaudi’s La Pedrera or Casa Mila. Then we headed over to La Sagrada Familia, which is absolutely amazing. It looks like a baker has gone wild with the decoration of a cake, putting in all the crazy characters from a far-out dream and then the icing has started to melt. Barcelona is blessed with more avant-garde architecture than any other city in the world, and this is certainly the most avant-garde to be seen. Antonio Gaudi began the building of this structure in the late 19th century. It is known as the Catedral de la Sagrada Familia (Holy Family Cathedral). He didn’t intend for it to be a church, but it became an obsession that he worked on exclusively for the last 8 years of his life. His design combines stone, iron, and ceramics in an irreverent way and even uses recycled material.

Katie and Russ, you guys would love this!!!

It had skeletal creatures and colored fruit and creepy-looking designs and angles—the perfect haunted house. This is where the term “gaudy,” meaning "tastelessly showy," comes from—Antonio Gaudi. Begun in 1882, the landmark was far from finished when he died in his seventies after being hit by a tram in 1926! At the time of his death, only one of the towers had been completed, but they are still working on the structure using his designs and funded by anonymous donors. I believe the guide said when finished there would be 16 towers and a huge cross on top that shines light out over the city. Some of the writing on the sides said: Apostolons, Sursum Corda (lift up your hearts), and Sanchus Sanchus Sanchus (Holy Holy Holy).

Next we hopped back onto the red route bus and continued our tour past the Tramvia Blau-Tibidabo (the tram was not in service so we didn’t get off), the Sarria, and the Monestir de Pedralbes. The monks no longer live at the monastery, but a group of nuns from the Order of Saint Clare lives in one wing of it. When you get married, you are supposed to give a dozen eggs to the nuns so that the sun will shine on your marriage and make it a successful one. The monastery is an example of Catalan Gothic art and was founded in 1326 by Queen Elisenda de Montcada.

We continued our trip past the University of Barcelona that was built over centuries ago, then past two gatehouses and gate with a dragon motif, also designed by Gaudi. Next up was Futbol!!!! The huge stadium, Camp Nou, is here and holds 100,000 people for national games. The Barcelonian team is called what sounded like “Basa” but I’m not sure of the spelling.

We changed buses to the blue route and went up to Montjuic where the 1992 Olympic stadium stands, along with great views of the city. We also went out to the Port Veil (newer) area where they have an IMAX theatre and the largest aquarium in Europe. That’s when I noticed on the map that there was a church dedicated to St. Maria del Mer—Basilica de Santa Maria de la Mer-- so, of course, we hopped off the bus and headed off to find it. I spied a huge spire with what appeared to be a crown on top and said to Ray that I hoped that was it—and it was!! Oh my, it was so gorgeous! Inside the church, the arches and the statues were stunning.

Then we walked over to the Placa Sant Jaume in the Barri Gotic, which is like an open-air museum of 12th and 13th century architecture. Here we found the Cathedral of Barcelona, built in 1298-1450 and dedicated to Saint Eulalia. But there has been a church here from 27 BC in Roman times. This is the center of the Gothic Quarter, which was built on the old Roman town. Most of the statues here have a Roman feel to them. Parts of the city walls survive today. The history of Barcelona is fascinating. It dates back to 988 when Barcelona won independence and identified with being more with Catalonia than Spain. The Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) created a dictatorship from 1939 through 1975. Catalonian home rule was restored soon after Franco’s death in 1975. Juan Carlos the First became king, and the monarchy was in charge once again and remains so.

We went shopping on La Rambla and stepped into a shop that had souvenirs—just looking for our usual pin, postcards, and shot glass. I saw a box of fans and walked over to them, took one out and looked at it then put it back. This cute little Spanish guy hurried over and proceeded to show me the fans and tell me that I didn’t want one made in China. He said the ones made in Spain were much better quality, and he took out a box to show me. They were only 5 euros more, but he would give it to me for the same price as the China one. Done deal, as this is the one souvenir of Spain that I really wanted. As I was walking away, he asked me if I didn’t want to have a scarf, too. He said I really needed a scarf to go with the fan—a Spanish scarf, not one made in China. Now, the scarf he pulled out was just absolutely gorgeous—black with beautiful red flowers—and at that point, I was ready to put down the fan and take the scarf, but he hadn’t said the price of the scarf yet. He put it around my shoulders and walked me over to the mirror. How much? I asked him. He said only 5 euros more than the fan! So now I really wanted the scarf.

So I decided to tell him that I could only have one of them—the scarf or the fan, and I couldn’t decide which. (I bargained!!! My first time ever!) Oh, you really need to have the set, he said. They go together. Every beautiful woman needs a gorgeous scarf and fan. No, I really can only get one, I replied as I kept eyeing them both. Ray walked up at that point, and I asked him which one I should get—the fan or the scarf. And the little Spanish guy—bless him—said that he would give me the scarf AND the fan for the price of the scarf alone. Ray said, Okay, if you’ll throw in this pewter shot glass for 5 euros, we’ll take it. So, I’m sure that the little guy still made a little money off of us, but we got a really good deal on my scarf and fan—which are the 2 items I really wanted as souvenirs from our trip over. They are the first things I’ve allowed myself to buy except for the pins and postcards and shot glasses, so I am really happy and proud of my new souvenirs.

And I was so excited that I forgot to get the postcards I had originally gone in to get! So we had to go back in to choose the cards, as he had the best prices on them, too.

We walked down to the foot of the promenade, where we found the tall column with the statue on top dedicated to Christopher Columbus, and took the Port Bus back to the ship.

At every one of the 44 stops, there were lots of things to be seen and done—the city has 70 museums, 3 universities and 16 parks--but we just didn’t have the time, so we are considering today an overview for our future visit. Another cool idea for our next visit—the city “Bicing” network—and no, that is not a misspelling--maintains 100 bicycle stations throughout the city, and tourist can use them. Cost is only 1 euro for unlimited one-week use!

Went up to the Crow’s Nest and saw a pod of whales playing around. The Captain said this was very unusual since the whale population is only now starting to come back in the Mediterranean. They splashed and spouted as we watched.

We were late leaving this evening as an emergency happened just as we pulled away from the dock so we returned. An older gentleman on the ship had a serious medical emergency and they had to call the ambulance to take him to the hospital. So sad watching as he got into the ambulance, his wife into the front seat, and all their luggage—hastily packed, I suppose—piled in with them and they had to watch as we pulled away once more. I felt so sorry for them.

Tomorrow is Monaco and since we aren’t big shoppers, probably not much to do, but we will see. I have been surprised by these cities every time.

***pictures from top: two of La Sagrada Familia and one inside the Basilica de Santa Maria de la Mer