April 7, 2024 by trs

Escape and Escapades: Spring Break in Roatan

Late last September, with the summer firmly over and our Christmas train trip arranged, I turned my eyes to planning our spring break getaway.

I knew I wanted to be somewhere warm, but also someplace not too taxing or far from home, so I zeroed in on the Caribbean. We would have only a week for the Spring Break / Easter week and early on the airfares and mile redemptions for the week were a disappointment to say the least. (Perhaps prices will never return to pre-COVID levels? It sure feels like it.) Honduras looked to be a good choice and initially, I had planned on time in both the Bay Islands and on the mainland, but quickly realized that to secure a lower airfare and a less stressful holiday, it would be best to shorten the holiday and just stay in one place.

I am glad I kept it simple. Early in 2024, my mom ended up in the hospital and I became the primary point of contact for calls with various medical staff, case managers, and more. With the daily medical discussions and issues that could take from one to six hours, I began to contemplate canceling our trip altogether. In the end, I got her treatment to a certain point where I felt I could split the difference such that I would still have some much-needed rest and relaxation and mother-daughter time, while also making daily check-ins related to my mom’s care. It was far from ideal, but I believe it was a good compromise.

*Roatan from the air–demonstrating some of the reef system surrounding the island*

Roatan is a fascinating place. It’s history, which includes a visit by Christopher Columbus, serving as a hangout for infamous pirates like Blackbeard, and once being a British colony, has shaped Roatan differently than the Honduran mainland. Although the British ceded the Bay Islands, including Roatan, to Honduras in 1861, it took nearly a hundred years before Spanish was taught on the islands’ schools. Today, English is still the first language of the islanders.

Roatan is a popular tourist destination for nature and adventure activities. It’s location along the world’s second largest barrier reef, the Mesoamerican, makes it an extremely popular scuba diving site. Roatan also boasts two cruise ship terminals, the first opening in 2008 and the second two years later. For an island only 40 miles long and 5 miles wide and a population somewhere between 50,000-100,000 people, two cruise ship terminals disgorging some 3,000 to 10,000 passengers a day in high season is astonishing. All these North American travelers have made the U.S. dollar the currency of choice on Roatan, vice the Honduran lempira.

I knew none of this. I usually research the heck out of where I am going. I like to know the history and current situation; I like to know the language, currency, and exchange rate. But this time, with all the stuff going on with my mom, I left much up to chance. I booked our flights, reserved our hotel, and looked up, but did not schedule, a thing for us to do.

On Sunday morning, C and I celebrated Easter a week early and then that night flew to Houston. We stayed the night then flew on to Roatan early Monday morning, arriving at our hotel, the Bananarama Dive and Beach Resort in West Bay, in time for a hectic lunch rush during a steamy tropical beach day. Ahhhhh…it felt amazing to be warm.

I struggle with stepping back and doing little. I like to keep engaged. But here it was our first day on the island and I had nothing at all planned. I had not even booked transport from the airport to West Bay. It only occurred to me as we boarded our plane in Houston that it could be a problem. Luckily I quickly checked the interwebs, reserved and paid for a taxi, and hoped for the best. I really thought it was 50-50 anyone would actually come and figured I might have just thrown $25 away. I was pleasantly surprised to find a driver with a cute handwritten sign with my name waiting for us in arrivals!

Therefore on our first day, all C and I did was make reservations for some activities on following days, walk on the beach, checked out the nearby shopping plazas, and lie about in the hammock or chairs on our bungalow porch.

On our second day, we headed to Jungle Top Adventures for an exciting few hours of ziplining and animal interactions. There seem an abnormally high ratio of zipline locations per population on Roatan, due to all those cruises. When we booked the zipline, we were not told which we were heading to, and I was a tad disappointed to find ours was located in Coxen Hole, the island’s main town, directly across from one of ports where two massive cruise ships were docked.

As I had read it is best to visit the animal park first because the sloths — the main attraction — can only be held by a limited number of persons before they are too tired, that was our first stop. While we did enjoy seeing to coati and the Yucatan white-tailed deer (Honduras’ national mammal) and meeting the monkeys and macaws, the sloths were the star of the show and one of the top reasons we chose to visit Roatan. C and I were both able to hold a sloth for about five minutes. With their arms around our necks and their legs around our waist, it was almost like holding a baby. The experience did not disappoint.

Next we headed to the zipline. We had to wait about 10 minutes before we could join the truck taking participants to the first of 16 zipline platforms. While the guides kitted us up, two more truckloads of adventurers arrived. All in all we had to wait 30 minutes before all our zipline guides arrived and zipped off to man the various platforms. However, once everyone had their gear and the guides were in place, we were zipped across the lines rapidly, like an assembly line. I had hoped to get a photo or video of my daughter, but she was hooked up and then off with such speed I hardly had time to react before it was my turn. When I arrived at the platform, C was already zipping on to the next. At the midway point though we all crowded together again. This time I was able to video C taking a running leap off the platform and then flipping upside down — of all the ziplines I have done in various places this was the first and only place I had heard of that being allowed.

*C and I and our group prepare for our submersible scooter experience*

On Wednesday, we did the most extraordinary activity! We glided through the water in a Breathing Observation Submersible Scooter (BOSS). I had initially booked for Friday, but the company emailed me on Tuesday afternoon to inform me that Thursday and Friday were predicted to be poor weather, but they could accommodate us earlier.

I have to admit, I was a wee bit scared to do this. I enjoy being warm and near the water; to feel sand between my toes, but I am not comfortable in the ocean. I get sea sick on boats. I am not comfortable in the ocean. I once tried to learn to scuba dive in the Philippines and kept freaking out during the basic water practice. I am just much more a landlubber and I get most of my fish experiences at aquariums (which I LOVE to visit). But C was excited to give it a try and so I thought I should be brave and give it a go.

The scooters work on the principle of an air pocket forming in a glass underwater. To get in, the scooters are held just below the water’s surface with the air pocket already formed in the large diving bell-like helmet. Then compressed air, just like the tanks used for diving, is pumped into the helmet. One has to hold one’s breath for just a few seconds to duck under and bring their head into the helmet. Well, it sounds simple. C did it in one go. I freaked out. It took me five times to get up the courage to get in. Thankfully, C went first and did not see that. Once everyone is in, the scooters are lowered to their maximum depth of ten feet. Then one can controls the scooter just like a scooter on land — with a toggle switch for speed and moving the handle bars to the sides to turn.

*We visited the Roatan Chocolate Factory in West End after our underwater scooter experience*

I wear glasses and unlike in snorkeling, where I have to accept blurred vision because I am not going to spring for a prescription mask, I could wear my glasses while operating the underwater scooter! I also have a lot of ear and sinus issues and that (along with a fear of sharks and running out of air and drowning) is what keeps keep from scuba diving. At the depth of the scooters, I could feel the pressure on my ears and I struggled to pop them, having to do so repeatedly, but I could manage. I have never been able to see a reef and fish underwater like I could on the scooter and I found myself laughing with delight. Also, because the giant helmets made everyone’s heads look really tiny on top of their bodies.

Thursday and the first part of Friday did turn out to have poor weather. Though it did not rain during the day, the winds picked up substantially, up to 25 mph, making the seas very choppy. Nearly all activity stopped along the beach. Though West Bay is a nice beach, it is not very wide, and on sunny days the beach chairs take up a good third to half of the sandy real estate and the crowds of beachgoers take up most of the rest. So though it was very breezy, it was still nice and warm, and I took strolls along the shore, while C chilled out in our hammock. I welcomed the respite. If the weather had been perfect, I would have felt compelled to be doing something, but as it wasn’t, I was off the hook. I did have to make several phone calls and emails related to my mom and I had time to do them, while also feeling sand between my toes and a deliciously warm wind all around.

*The wind kicks up the waves around the water taxi pier in West Bay*

The sun returned on Saturday, our last day, so C and I headed out to parasail. This would be C’s first time ever and my second, but my first time parasail in tandem. During my first time, in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, the boat motor stopped when the woman after me was up, and her parachute slowly sunk back down to the ocean. She had to unfasten herself and swim back to the boat. I had thanked my lucky stars it had not been me, but admit that I had been a little scared to parasail since. I am happy to report that C and I did it without a single incident.

That afternoon C wanted to stand-up paddleboard (SUP). It had been on our list for the trip in a large part because our hotel had advertised it as being readily available. And yet throughout the week we had not seen anyone paddleboarding. When I went to ask at our activity kiosk I was told they didn’t have any paddleboards, and then the guy corrected it to, um, no paddleboards that work well. I really wondered about their secret defective paddleboards. At the next kiosk they told me they could get me paddleboards, but could they have ten minutes to “find” them? Turned out they could only locate one, so I left it to C to show me how it is done.

*C looks pretty cool doing SUP at sunset*

Unfortunately, C had only done SUP once before – at the lake during last summer’s camp. Doing it in the ocean on a busy beach turned out to be a whole new level. Still she managed pretty well. She took a little break after 15 minutes and let me give it a try. I only made it to a crouching position before falling off and struggled to maneuver around the crowds of bobbing heads. It became clear pretty quickly why SUP seems to have fallen by the wayside in Roatan, at least during the busy season.

Then just like that our six days in Roatan was over. Afterwards, once we returned home, it felt short, but during the trip it felt just right. It gave me just the right amount of time to rest, deal with issues at home, and spend mother-daughter time with C while doing amazing activities or just chilling out together.

February 26, 2024 by trs

2023 Winter Vacay: A Trip Down Memory Lane, Part 3, La-la-land

*Los Angeles’ beautiful Union Station: where I arrived in the city in 1984 and 2023*

In 1984, when my family traveled to Los Angeles by cross-country train, we stayed with my mother’s cousin in Dana Point, about an hour south of the city center. This was not a part of the trip I wanted to recreate. Though C and I did visit that cousin when we went to California in 2016, she had moved to Carlsbad. That house from 1984 later slid off the cliffside.

Instead, I had booked a hotel very close to the Hollywood Walk of Fame and the Chinese Theater, two sights I do remember us visiting in 1984. I did not want to drive around Los Angeles if I could avoid it. In 1984, mother and aunt rented an automatic transmission car that neither could drive very well (they were used to manual cars and my mom kept hitting the brake thinking it was the clutch), which made city driving even more….challenging. C and I could get to the sights we wanted to see on foot or by Uber.

Arriving three hours late following a 43.5-hour train ride, C and I were very eager to get off the train, get to the hotel for showers, and then for a walk to really stretch our legs. The sun was shining, the palm trees were swaying, and the temperature was in the mid-60s.

*Grauman’s Chinese Theater – it looks much the same as in 1984, only with some added digital screens and some shorter and more efficient cars driving past*

Our luggage arrived quickly and I called an Uber. Our driver had his GPS set to Mandarin Chinese so I thought I would speak a little and this delighted both myself and the driver. At the hotel, we were lucky to be able to check in early, something we probably would not have been able to do had we arrived on time, so we also freshened up before hitting Hollywood Boulevard.

Most of the walk to the Chinese Theater was quiet, that is until we turned onto the Boulevard itself. It was packed full of tourists, vendors, and folks in cosplay working the crowd for paid photo-ops. We saw people dressed as Freddy Krueger, The Mask (the Jim Carrey movie), Michael Jordan, the Joker, Spiderman, Mickey Mouse, a Transformer, and many more I just do not recall. There were a lot and it was hard to get past some of them. We popped into the Chinese Theater courtyard – mostly so I could tell C it was the same place I had visited when I was 11. And that was it. That was all we did in 1984, too!

We got lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe. It has become a bit of a tradition for C and I, with us having dined in at least six Hard Rock establishments in the past three years. We were rather desperate to sit down at a table and eat in a restaurant, i.e. not fruit and granola bars from a bag at our coach seats. And there was the sensation still of rocking back and forth as if we were still on the train. The food and drink restored us and we were then able to get out and about.

*I focused on seeking out the Hollywood stars that would have been on the Walk of Fame in 1984*

We spent the rest of the day checking out various shops, especially Japanese and Korean fashion and goodies shops, and looking at the various celebrity names on the stars of the Hollywood Walk of Fame. At the time of my visit in 1984, there were around 1,770 Walk of Fame stars; but in December 2023 there were 1,000 more. We walked down to Thai Town, the only such ethnic Thai neighborhood officially recognized in the U.S., as C had a specific store she wanted to visit. On our walk back, we passed lines of vintage cars along the Boulevard. It was Saturday night and the classic and lowrider vehicles were out cruising.

*Hollywood Boulevard lighting up as the sun goes down*

On our second day in Los Angeles, C and I went to Universal Studios Hollywood. During my 1984 visit with my family, a visit to the theme park had been one of the highlights. This would be C’s first visit to a Universal Studios amusement park and we were eager to get on as many of the rides as we could. I especially wanted to take C on the famous Tram Tour, one of the few parts of the visit I remembered. The part of the tour with the mechanical great white shark from JAWS was seared into my memory.

Once in the park, I realized almost none of the current attractions would have been part of my 1984 visit. C and I were really looking forward to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, but think about it, the first Harry Potter book was published in 1997, 13 years after my trip to Los Angeles. The Revenge of the Mummy ride, the one C and I made a beeline for as soon as we got into the park, is based on the popular Mummy movie franchise; the first of those movies was released in 1999. The Kung Fu Panda Adventure? Based on a movie released in 2008. C and I were able to get on nearly all the rides at the park. Because the temperatures were in the 60s, we opted to skip the water-based ride as we did not want to get wet. I remembered teasing my younger brother about the Jurassic Park movies way back when, but then with the first one released in 1993, it did not go back quite as far as our 1984 trip. Even the Simpsons ride, though based on television’s longest-running American primetime show, would not have been around back then. The show first aired in December 1989. Oh my, I was starting to feel old.

*This building facade is based on the Despicable Me movie, which came out in 2010*

The Universal Studios Park of 1984 (there was no need to designate it as the park in Hollywood as it was the only one of its kind: the park in Florida opened in 1990) was largely just stage shows. Animal shows, stunt shows, shows based on specific TV shows, and the tram tour. I remember seeing an Indiana Jones show. The first movie opened in 1981 and I had seen it probably 20 times. It was my favorite movie!

At least the tram tour through the Universal Studios backlot still has a few stops from 1984 – JAWS, the flash flood, and the Bates Motel. The icy tunnel, the collapsing bridge, and the terrible Battlestar Galactica sets were no longer there. It was kind of a shock to me to pass by the courthouse square that was such a huge part of the Back to the Future movies (my second favorite after Indiana Jones) and realize it would not have been there in 1984, as the first of the movies was not released until the following year. And yet my almost 12-year-old kiddo stared blankly at the set, as she was unfamiliar with the movies.

We spent all day at the park. It was Christmas Eve, and though the weather had been lovely all day with the sun up, as the sun set, it grew chilly. It was time to head back to the hotel to get some shut-eye before the next phase of our trip.

February 22, 2024 by trs

2023 Winter Vacay: A Trip Down Memory Lane, Part 2, All Aboard!

*A quick peek at Mendoza, Illinois as we sped past*

Boarding at Chicago’s Union Station was a straightforward affair. An announcement asked all Southwest Chief passengers to move toward our gate. Tickets were checked and Amtrak officials lined us up according to our class and destination. We shuffled forward, then onto the train. It was slow moving as passengers plodded up the narrow stairs to the second floor seating. But soon enough we were ensconced in our seats; our belongings safely nestled in the overhead storage. And then there was the whistle and the call of “All Aboard!” followed by the train pulling out of the station.

I love train travel. I enjoy gazing out the windows and watching the passing scenery – from urban to rural, plains to mountains, through cities, towns, and villages – and the freedom to move around or read or snooze all while we glide, lightly rocking, along the rails. Over my many years of traveling, I have taken many a long train trip. When I backpacked around Europe in the early 2000s, I often took the train between cities and countries. But I have also ridden trains in places like India, New Zealand, Japan, Korea, Sri Lanka, My overnight train journey locations have included from Malaysia, China, Thailand, Australia, Europe, Egypt, and Finland. Yet, I believe the only multi-night train trip I had taken was the 1984 trip cross country trip I took with my mother, sisters, aunt, and cousin, upon which I was basing this new trip.

I booked C’s and my seats in the interest of authenticity and cost. Though I had looked at the roomettes and sleeping cars, the price tag was much more than I was willing to part with. And in 1984, we had all made the journey in coach. Whenever I thought about this upcoming trip, I felt both a shiver of excitement and trepidation. I had been 11 in 1984; my current, much older self, did not have quite the ability or agility to sleep in all manner of places and positions. A few years ago, I pulled something in my back just reaching down to pick up a paperback book! I wondered what two nights curled up in a chair might do to me.

Coach seats on trains are far more comfortable and spacious than those on planes. C and I had two seats together. There are no middle seats on the train. We had ample space between our seats and those in front of us. The seats recline – and though they are not flat, they do go further back than on a plane. There is also a leg rest, which extends parallel to the seat. And, if your legs are long enough, there is a footrest that may be raised from the seat in front of you. I had packed a fleece blanket, travel pillow (well, for C a large squishmallow), eye masks, and ear plugs for each of us. Before we left our hotel in Chicago, I moved those to our carry on and packed away our coats and colder weather gear into our one large bag, which we then checked with Amtrak in Chicago.

*I had not expected Colorado to look like this*

The first few hours passed quickly. We dined on apples, granola bars, Goldfish crackers, and string cheese we had bought in Chicago. With it being the winter solstice, the sun set around 4:30 PM, only a little over an hour and a half after we left Chicago. Thus when we crossed the Mississippi River around 7:30 PM, it was long dark. I was disappointed. One of the things I remember from the 1984 train trip was the excitement us kids had in crossing the great river. Unfortunately, I realized, by taking this trip in winter we would have far less time to gaze upon the scenery. But the darkness and the gentle rocking of the train did make it easier to become drowsy. We made up our little coach chair beds and went to sleep.

I woke the next morning just after 6 AM with a jolt of the train. I was a bit surprised to find us in Garden City, Kansas because I recalled a stop in Kansas the night before. The train must slow down greatly as it makes it way through the state.

We were soon to cross into Colorado, but just outside of small town of La Junta, our train stopped for at least 30 minutes. It turned out it was to let a freight train pass by. The first of many (that I was aware of) that would delay our journey. La Junta was a destinated crew rest stop and thus the first of our “fresh air” breaks when passengers could get off to stretch their legs. C got off only so she could then say she had visited Colorado. I just kept walking up and down the platform for a good 45 minutes as I had no idea how many fresh air opportunities we might have.

From the train window we saw a coyote run by. I decided to go to the observation car to better see the scenery. C did not want to join. She wanted to take selfies, play games, listen to music, and message her friends on her new phone (an early Christmas gift from her dad). I asked her many times to join me in the observation car and yet she always said no. This too was something different from my 1984 trip. I had my sisters and my cousin — and we had no electronic devices.

The train trains climbed in elevation. La Junta is located at just above 4,000 feet above sea level. We began to see snow blanketing the ground as we climbed into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the southernmost subrange of the Rocky Mountains. Then we went through the Raton Tunnel and entered New Mexico. At 7,588 feet, its the highest pass of the Santa Fe Trail and a National Historic Landmark. This was a particularly exciting part for me as I remember my sisters, cousin, and I moving quickly to the end of the train so that we could watch us exit the tunnel. And we must have been a bit rowdy in doing so as we were shushed by a few passengers and then the conductor made an announcement. Something like children having to remain in their designated cars unless accompanied by an adult. That did put a damper on our fun.

We ate lunch in the cafe. I alternated my time reading at my seat or in the observation car, sometimes striking up conversations with other passengers. This too is something special about train travel. On an airplane, one can only really talk with one’s seatmate or perhaps very briefly with someone while in line for the toilet or in the galley on longer haul flights. But on a train? One can really meet people.

*Bison in New Mexico.* *We saw bison, elk, pronghorn, and a coyote from the train.*

There was Jimmy, the guy who single-handedly ran the cafe the whole journey. It opens at 6 AM and closes at 11 PM. He took breaks here and there. One time when C and I were down there and he needed to leave the car he pointed at me and said, “Mom, you are in charge until I get back.” He had a great personality. He has been working for Amtrak for 17 years. Though he has done many of the routes, he has spent the last decade on the Southwest Chief.

Sandy was taking Amtrak for the first time and she decided go big or go home and booked herself a sleeper car. She wanted to arrive in L.A. rested so she could watch her beloved Michigan team play in the Rose Bowl.

A guy from Gallup, NM was heading to L.A. just to catch his friend, Chicano rapper Mr. Criminal, in concert. Then turn around the next day and head home.

When I told an Amish couple from Michigan that my daughter and I had recently visited Lancaster, PA, they asked where we had stayed. When I told them we stayed at the Red Caboose Motel, the husband nodded knowingly and told me his uncle owns it.

*Barstow, CA train station in the early morning fog*

For our second evening dinner, we opted to eat fancy in the dining car. As it was just C and I, we were seated with young 20-something brother and sister from Kansas who both worked at their dad’s truck mechanic shop. According to them, Garden City was a bit boring, but they had plans. They were heading to L.A. with their parents to celebrate with their grandma before she moved back to Mexico, and maybe get matching tattoos with their mom, if they could convince her.

We were supposed to arrive in Albuquerque around 3:30 PM on our second night. I was looking forward to this stop as it had been a highlight of the 1984 trip. I remember the light was bright and golden. While the station crew washed the train, I bought a pair of turquoise earrings from one of the Native American women selling on the platform. Unfortunately, this time we pulled into the Albuquerque station three hours behind schedule, long after sundown. C and I got off to stretch our legs during the 50-minute stop. And wouldn’t you know it, there on the platform was a sole vendor selling handmade jewelry! I happily bought C a bracelet.

I did not sleep as well the second night. I kept waking to the loud whoosh and rocking reverberation of other trains speeding past ours. A nightmare caught hold of my brain and I awoke, feeling afraid of the train! But C, my world traveling buddy, slept on.

*The Southwest Chief slides through the San Gabriel Mountains on its approach to Los Angeles*

Arrival in L.A. was scheduled for 8 AM, so we were up by 6:30 to finish up the last of our food for breakfast and pack up. Unfortunately, we had made up no time in the night and would arrive in L.A. several hours late. Though the changing scenery from the deserts to scrub then the San Gabriel mountains to the densely populated urban areas of California’s southwest were lovely, it did begin to feel as though I might have been on this train longer than two days.

Finally, 43.5 hours after our departure from Chicago, the train pulled into Los Angeles’ Union Station. Though grateful to be off the train, I was very glad to revisit this journey from my youth. Though C only proclaimed the trip “okay,” I hope that she will remember this journey with her mom for years to come as I did. I might have begun plotting other long distance train trips.

February 18, 2024 by trs

2023 Winter Vacay: A Trip Down Memory Lane, Part 1, Chicago

*A view from the Southwest Chief as we traversed New Mexico*

Early last summer, with our summer vacation plans settled, I turned my mind to where we might go during the winter holidays. Though I wanted to finally have our southern Africa jaunt, which had been canceled multiple times due to COVID and our curtailment from Guinea, it still did not seem the time. International airfares remained quite high and C’s school district had decided on only a week and a half winter holiday break. Given my tendency to flee cold weather if I can, I wanted very much to find a warm, or at least warmer, place to spend the holidays. I looked at international destinations closer to home, like the Caribbean, but those airfares also seemed ridiculously (at least to me) costly. So, it seemed a domestic trip would be the way to go. Yet, I did not want just any old vacation…

In the summer of 1984, my mother, my two sisters, my aunt, and my cousin set out on a cross-country train journey to California. My aunt, L, worked for Amtrak in Pittsburgh and could purchase discounted tickets. My mother drove with my sisters and I to Pittsburgh to meet L and my 12-year old cousin Dan. I was eleven; my sisters 9 and 7. We boarded the train in Pittsburgh and traveled to California via Chicago over the next two days. We then visited L’s daughter and some major sights in the area before flying home. I had fond memories of this trip, my first great adventure.

*Downtown Chicago on a cold, clear winter’s day*

I was hooked on this idea, but there were a few more details to work out. First, I looked into Amtrak prices and discovered that while C is under the age of 13 her ticket would be 50% the cost of mine. This then seemed the ideal time to go; she would also be the same age I was when I made that train trip with my mom. I researched starting our trip from Washington, DC, but I did not relish the idea of an additional 20 hours of travel, so opted to fly to Chicago and start from there. Finally, though I worried about undertaking this journey in winter, I learned that trains are far less affected by weather than planes. My plans fell into place.

We flew out on a Tuesday evening for Chicago. In 1984, we had only a five-hour stopover in the Windy City between the arrival of the train from Pittsburgh and our next departure, during which we made a speedy visit to the Museum of Science and Industry. I have zero memories of the museum, only a sense of rushing about. For C’s first visit to Chicago, I wanted more than a few hours.

*A dolphin caught mid-jump in the Shedd Aquarium with a view of the tip of Northerly Island and Lake Michigan*

Chicago would be the coldest stop on our itinerary. It could have been really, really chilly, but we had a beautiful crisp winter day. In the morning, C and I went to the Shedd Aquarium. I have long loved visiting aquariums and have instilled this same feeling in my daughter. Together we have visited amazing aquariums all over the world. The Shedd is one of the best for many reasons, but it is also one of the few where one can see beluga whales. They also had, to our delight, an exhibit on Lake Malawi.

We spent nearly four hours at the Aquarium. C wanted to go back to the hotel room and vegetate, but I wanted to force march her downtown. I won. It was too lovely of a day and, starting the next afternoon we would be largely confined to a train for 40 hours, so I wanted to stretch my legs while I could. We had a nice, long walk alongside Lake Michigan to Millennium Park. We stopped to see the 45-foot tall Christmas tree and to watch ice skaters just below the famous Cloud Gate sculpture known as “The Bean.” Unfortunately, the Bean was inaccessible during the renovation of the Plaza. From there we took a long walk back to our hotel through the downtown streets of Chicago.

*Nederlander theater marquee before our show*

Besides my five-hour visit to the city in 1984, I had only visited Chicago twice before. Once around 1995, I spent a few days visiting a friend of mine doing her Ph.D. at the University of Chicago, and then again for a long weekend around 2006 when I ran the Chicago Half Marathon. Visiting made me first think it odd that I have spent so little time in one of my country’s greatest cities; there is so much to see and do. But also I realized how much had changed since my visits. When my sisters and I visited the Museum of Science and Industry in 1984, it was free of charge. Today it would cost $122.70 for our entourage. There was no Cloud Gate sculpture in Chicago until 2009 and the city’s tallest building, the Willis Tower, was called the Sears Tower during my previous visits having only been renamed in 2009. I am now officially one of those people who waxes lyrical or gushes annoying, depending on your perspective, about “the way things used to be.”

That evening, C and I headed to the Nederlander Theater to see a Chicago performance of the musical Hamilton. C and I have become enthusiasts of musical theater. Hamilton would be our fifth of the year after Aladdin in New York, We Will Rock You on our Norwegian fjord cruise ship, Wicked in London, and Evita in Washington, D.C., though it is the only musical C really asked to see. I am not sure when or where she first learned about it, but during the year she spent the 4th grade in the U.S. she became quite into it. She watched the play on Disney+ with our Malawian nanny, she sang the songs in the shower and with friends, and she dressed as Hamilton for Halloween in 2022. Tickets in New York were more than my wallet could spare, but they were more affordable in Chicago. It was a treat to surprise her with the show and the performance was spectacular.

Our second day in Chicago was not even a full day as our train would depart at 14:50. I looked into us trying to squeeze some activity in during the morning but though my 1984-self certainly could cram in a quick visit to a museum (no doubt encouraged by my mother) and I am sure my 1995- and 2006-selves would surely have given it a go, my 2024-self did not want to be rushed. C was keen on a visit to the Field Museum, but the recommended visit time of four hours meant there was not enough time. I checked if we might visit the top of the Willis Tower, only a 10-minute walk from our hotel, but the morning times were all sold out. So we slept in. I thought that a good move given I did not know how well we might sleep on the train the next two nights. And I walked over to a nearby supermarket to get us lunch and some provisions for the train.

Then after lunch in the comfort of our hotel room, we packed up our belongings and made the short walk over to Chicago’s Union Station. Among throngs of harried commuters, excited families in matching pajama sets awaiting their trip on Chicago’s version of the Polar Express, and other travelers off on all sorts of travel near and far across the nation, we awaited the boarding call for our own train, the Southwest Chief, bound for Los Angeles and stops in-between. Our short stopover in Chicago had already come to an end.

November 20, 2023 by trs

A Weekend Getaway in Lancaster, PA

*Amish carriages parked in the early morning* *in Ronks, PA*

One of the good things about being in the U.S. now are the many opportunities for wonderful weekend getaways. And though my 11-year old is extremely well traveled internationally, she has far less experience in our home country. It is important to me that she has the opportunity to see sights around the U.S. that also introduce her to the variety of cultures, history, people and places that our nation offers.

For the Veteran’s Day weekend, I decided C and I would visit Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I have vague memories of visiting the area when I was a child, perhaps 8 or 9 years old, with a friend and her mom, also a single mother. But other than having spent a day there, I had no other recollections. With good weather and a fair amount of trees still in their autumnal leaf glory, Lancaster seemed a great place to get away from our every day.

*A delicious assortment of macarons at Bistro Barberet*

Our first stop in Lancaster was the Bistro Barberet, an authentic French restaurant and bakery owned and operated by an award winning French chef located in the historic downtown area. C loves French pastries and desserts and insisted she needed some bona fide macarons a.s.a.p. She left with the macarons, which must have passed muster as she ate every one of them (I got none).

Next we headed to the Lancaster Central Market. Founded in 1730 as part of the town’s original design, the market is the longest continuously operating public market in the country. It’s 60-some vendors offer a little bit of the old – from fresh local produce, homemade canned and dried goods, and family-owned meat, seafood, and poultry options – to the new, including Puerto Rican, Thai, and West African foods. Once inside, C immediately made a beeline for the West African stall as she identified the flags of Guinea and Liberia on the stall at once. Though we had not really immersed ourselves into the local food scene in Conakry, the flag was a pleasant reminder of both our personal journey and the international connections around us. C really loved the market. She tried the local favorites like soft pretzels and whoopie pies, and declared the market a wonder that she wished were closer to us.

Hankering for something a bit more substantial for lunch, we headed up the street to Brooklyn Pizza Gril & Pasta. It was a little chilly and overcast with a slight drizzle outside, but the wafting smell of fresh baked pizza, the heat from the ovens, and the cheery welcome from the staff was very welcoming. There are only a few tables and we perched on bar stools at the small table in the window as we chowed down on delicious hot and greasy New York style pizza as upbeat salsa tunes encircled us. Fantastic!

That afternoon we had bookings for the Amish House & Farm tour. For some reason, I thought the tour meeting spot would be just nearby, and when I learned I had a 25-minute drive we made a hasty retreat over. I was a little surprised to find an 1805 farmhouse in a Target-anchored shopping center, but we ended up having a wonderful tour. We started with a 90-minute bus tour through the surrounding countryside accompanied by commentary from the guide on the history and culture of the Amish. We made three stops at Amish businesses along the way. At the first we never even got inside the store as the small petting zoo with adorable goats, the soft pretzel stand, and the large bin of free pumpkins kept C and I plenty busy during the 15-minute break. The second stop was a small single-family run housefront store with handmade goods, many made by the family’s children. At the third, we spent nearly the entire time in the barn as C and several other children from the tour oohed, aahed, and cooed over a little of adorable havapoo puppies for sale. Back at the farmhouse, we had the opportunity for a further 30 minute tour of a mostly typical Amish home. Though I think the puppies were C’s favorite (ok, maybe mine too), the tour was very educational for us both.

*Our “room” at the Red Caboose Motel at Paradise Station in Ronks, PA*

We were to also have a self-guided tour of the adjacent farm, but with the recent time with daylight savings, the farm was far too dark to check out when we finished the house tour. We drove on to our hotel–the delightful Red Caboose Motel in Ronks, PA, where we would spend the next two nights in a renovated train caboose. We loved our room at once – it was cleverly converted and very cosy. C had her choice of 4 bunk beds but chose instead to squeeze in with me in the double; though she often asserts her independence, I think she might have been intimidated by her first stay in what essentially looked like a train yard. Dinner (and the following morning’s breakfast) was hearty portions of Americana in the Casey Jones’ restaurant where patrons sit in two train dining cars.

It is perhaps impossible to capture the pure joy of experiencing this view first hand – the crunch of frost covered grass beneath one’s feet, the evaporating chill still tingling the nose, and the calls of the boys to their horses in the fields

When we woke up the next morning there was frost and a fine mist hovering over the ground. Though chilly and in the upper 30s (Fahrenheit), the sun and sky were bright and clear. Before breakfast, I grabbed my good camera and did a perambulation around the property. The view across the fields was absolutely stunning. I do love our neighborhood in northern Virginia, but though the residential streets are tree-lined and there are plenty of parks, it cannot compare to the beauty of open land. I do not think I am designed for country living, but I sure do enjoy taking time to drink it in.

It was a very good tour. C, who has often seemed bored by house tours, was well-engaged by the former 5th grade art teacher turned tour guide. We were also a small group of six; in addition to C and I there were two 20-something male history buffs and, as luck would have it, a just retired Foreign Service couple. What are the odds? There were a few things that struck me as rather extraordinary about the tour: 1. the 20 minute introductory film makes no bones about the controversy surrounding the man and 2. that so much of the furniture and decor were not only original to the house and family but that we were free to move around (though not touch) the rooms. In nearly every home of a person of such historic value, the rooms are cordoned off in some way, with either carpet runners you must stay on or by stanchions or plastic barriers that allow guests only too close.

We crisscrossed the county again, grabbed lunch at a small mom & pop taqueria, and then headed to the Strasburg railroad where we would board a luxury lounge car for a leisurely 45-minute out-and-back ride on the country’s oldest continuously operating steam train. C’s pre-teen tendencies were beginning to show as she grumpily dropped into her velvet armchair; though the fun of an historic train ride did not perk her up, an cold tea and an M&M brownie did the trick and soon enough she conceded it was sort of interesting. I enjoyed the ride, though would have liked it more had it been a wee bit longer. It felt that as soon as we got going it was time to turn back and then it was over.

After breakfast, C and I headed to Wheatland, the preserved home of the 15th President of the U.S. James Buchanan. Buchanan, thus far the only bachelor president and the only one from Pennsylvania (though some are now divided on that President Joseph Biden was born and lived the first decade of his life in the state before his family relocated to Delaware), was a controversial figure who, though an accomplished statesman, is probably most remembered (when he is remembered) for presiding over the succession of the southern states and the start of the Civil War, which began just six weeks after he left office.

After the train ride, we drove along the back country roads visiting a few of Lancaster’s covered bridges. I had not realized at first that there would be so many such bridges as they are often more associated with New England, but there are at least 20 of them in the county. We passed by four of them, but it was the Kurtz Mill Bridge, dating from 1876, that provided the best opportunity to really see a covered bridge due to its location in the county’s central park.

*C leaps at the Kurtz Mill Covered Bridge*

On Sunday morning, I took one last stroll around the Red Caboose Motel grounds, listening for the clip-clopping of the Amish carriages on their way to a friend’s or neighbor’s home. C and I then packed up and made one final stop in Lancaster, so I could take a photo of the Lancaster County Prison, which the mid-18th century town leaders decided should be built like an English castle. Just another unique feature of Lancaster, I suppose.

I was reluctant to depart and head home; it was a great weekend away.

October 1, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Seven: More Alsace & the Finale

The seventh and final installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

From the Haut-Koenigsbourg Castle I drove to the little village of Riquewihr, which dates from the medieval period and is considered among the most beautiful villages of France.

The little town square in Riquewihr, with several Alsatian half-timbered houses dating from the middle ages and in the background, down a little street, one can make out the green vineyards rising beyond

The village is quite small, with a population around 1,000, though there were at least a few hundred other tourists milling about its car-free cobblestoned center. We come to see the beautiful Alsatian homes from the 15th to 18th centuries and the 13th century defensive gate. Having been spared terrible damage from the second World War, the village is a well-preserved representation of its medieval self.

*The perfect combination of delicious Alsatian baked goods in a traditional Alsatian-decorated store*

It was 3 PM by the time I arrived and I was hoping for a nice restaurant meal with alfresco seating. Unfortunately, the village’s small size dictated its restaurant limitations; though there were still a good handful or so, many were closed for the period between lunch and dinner. The few open appeared to have much the same menus of heavy pork or duck sausages, veal head or kidney, Alsatian tarte flambees, and sauerkraut. Yet there were also shops of baked goods, preserves, sweets, and beer. Riquewihr items must be in demand as I saw them sold prominently in other locations around Alsace. The best of course, in my humble opinion, were the big German pretzels, with their brown, crispy, salty-crust and the light and soft insides. And as it started to rain again, I had the perfect meal of a delicious soft pretzel for 1 euro and a Diet Coke, standing under the eaves of a medieval house. My previously empty stomach and my traveler’s heart were deeply satisfied.

The rain let up again, enough for me to wander a bit more to see the 13th century Dolder tower, but the clouds opened up once again and soon enough the tourists, including myself, were huddling in the small passageway under the Tower or pressed back against the houses to get coverage from the narrow eaves. I made my way down the street, running from eave protected location to another, until I made it to the gelato shop. I had my dessert under the tarps of a small market and then ran for my car.

*Storks are historically a symbol of Alsace as they represent fertility, good luck, good harvest, and wealth – these are just a few of the stork-related items in Colmar*

I drove the 30 minutes to Colmar, my next stop, where I would be staying the next two nights. I had a little trouble navigating to my central hotel given the many streets under some construction. Then parking too was problematic. There was only a small public parking lot on the one way street in front of the hotel that was full upon my arrival. I drove around the block (which was much trickier than it sounds) to try again. And again. The third time was not the charm. The hotel then arranged for me to park at a small garage nearby – maneuvering the car into that narrow single garage required a lot of focus on my part! I finished off my day with the best caprese salad I have every tasted in a small Italian restaurant.

I spent the whole of the following day touring the streets of Colmar on foot. I started just outside my lovely historic hotel in a house dating from 1565 directly on one of the canals of Colmar’s Little Venice. I made a booking for a canal tour for the early afternoon, then set off to explore.

*Love locks along one of Colmar’s canals*

I was in my element. One thing that I really love to do is to take a long wander through an attractive city, even better if its culture and history are strongly on display. Colmar had this in spades. Around every corner, indeed after every few steps in the old city center there was yet another delightful sight from flowers beds along the canal, the steeple of a lovely old church, an ornately painted house façade, a stork decoration. I just kept walking. After lunch I enjoyed the 30-minute canal boat tour, and then went right back to pounding the streets on my own two feet. I spent an hour in the Bartholdi Museum, dedicated to the life and works of August Bartholdi, the creator of the Statue of Liberty, located in his childhood home.

I really do not know quite how it happened, but when I think back now it seems incredible that I only spent one full day in Colmar. Like Strasbourg, I packed so much into that single day.

*The town square of Eguisheim – look closely and see the stork nests and storks atop several buildings*

On the Thursday I departed Colmar and drove to another of the small beautiful medieval villages of Alsatian fame, Eguisheim. The area around the village is one of the oldest settlement areas in Alsace and the origins of the village date from the year 1257. It is a wonderful example of a typical medieval village of tight concentric circles around a square complete with a fountain, church, and enough space for a market.

When planning my trip, I had not done as much research as I might normally do. After all, my solo trip in Alsace was at the end of a pretty elaborate multi-week journey. I knew Eguisheim was a must see and I diligently added it to my itinerary, but it was rather like “set it and forget it” until I found myself parking outside the outer rim of the original village. I walked into one section of the outermost circle, and while it had a lovely old fountain and a few pretty buildings, it was not blowing me away. The sky was again overcast and I felt a bit tired. I looked up though and saw a large nest atop a nearby house and then to my astonished eyes, a stork stood up in it, then spread its wings, and flew.

I turned down a very narrow street, about the width of a car (though I certainly would not want to drive it). There was a funny little store dedicated entirely to mushrooms – edible goods and mushroom-inspired art and knick-knacks. The local government had cleverly set up little historic markers throughout the village for tourists to learn a little here and there about unique architectural or cultural quirks one might find. That circle opened up to a main street and I followed it to the village’s center square and here it really did blow me away. I spent about an hour exploring and then I had to bid farewell and drive on to Nancy, two hours away.

*An insect hotel in the Parc de la Pépinière*

I arrived in Nancy, France just in time to enjoy a lovely alfresco lunch near the main square. Once again the stormy clouds had dispersed and the sky was blazing an almost unreal blue. After lunch I strolled around the 18th century Place Stanislas, conceived and inaugurated by Stanislaw Leszczynski, the last Duke of Lorraine, in 1755. The square is considered the most beautiful in France and is part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site designation for Nancy. It is bordered by elaborate gates and fountains and a triumphal arch, its golden buildings excellent examples of 18th century urban architecture. I thought I could sit there all day and just drink it in. But frankly, after all the go-go-go of the previous days and weeks, a full and content belly, and the strong sun, I just wanted to take a nap.

Unfortunately, when I woke up it was late afternoon and the grey clouds had rolled back in. I did take a walk again to the square and then to a nearby church and finally a supermarket to grab some food to eat in the hotel room. In every long trip there should be a day or two of lazing about, and I had not had that at all — so I made the time to just relax. I was also missing my kiddo.

I had to leave on Friday afternoon to make the 2 1/2 hour drive back to the Euro Space Center for the end of camp presentation, so I did not have much time. I needed to get myself into high gear and do another quick a la Amazing Race tour. As it was lightly raining again, I decided to jump on the little tourist train, which in 45 minutes would take me on a guided tour to all the main sights. That tour then told me exactly where I would want to go back on an additional speed walk tour – to see the Port de la Citadelle and the Port de la Craffe, restored gates of the 14th century defensive wall, into the Basilica of Saint Epvre of Nancy, along the Place de la Carriere (part of the UNESCO designation for Nancy), and then through the Parc de la Pepiniere, where among the trees and flowers is a statue by Rodin.

*I loved this tomb carving in the Basilica of Saint Epvre, like the Thinker in death (he is still thinking!)*

Nancy, too, was worth more time than I could give it, but I am glad I was able to see it in both sunshine and rain.

I drove the two and a half hours to the Euro Space Center through some rather heavy rains to arrive just in time to see the student end-of-camp rocket launch and the presentation of certificates. Last year the launch of the student-made rockets had been cancelled due to a heat wave and very dry conditions; this year they launched in a fine misty rain. All the kids reported having had a great time (though they all disliked the food). We all got the kids packed up, let them say their goodbyes, and hustled them off to the cars as we had a four-hour drive back to the Amsterdam airport. C once again rode with her cousins, so I had a bit more solo time on the road, which was just fine. Little did I know that I would get my second speeding ticket of all time on the highway outside of Rotterdam – I received my ticket, for driving 5 miles over the speed limit, when I returned home.

We had one more day in the Netherlands before returning to the States. Though it was once again overcast, we headed to the village of Zaanse Schans, just 10 miles north of Amsterdam. When I had started planning this part of our trip, I had hoped we could take a bicycle tour to the village as I had done when I visited in the late 1990s, because it was a place where we could see three quintessential symbols of the country: windmills, a cheese factory, and a wooden shoe factory. Unfortunately, the bicycle tours had a minimum age of 12, so C and her cousin AH were too young. But we worked out an easy enough way on the trains, which honestly allowed us to sightsee on our own timetable.

The sightseeing started off with us (and the hundreds of other tourists there) huddled under our umbrellas, but once again the gods of weather cleared the skies. Honestly, we had the most wonderful weather for the entirety of the three and a half weeks. Even when it rained, it always cleared up, in every location, for at least a few hours of glorious sunshine.

Thus, we spent several hours in Zaanse Schans, strolling past the windmills, learning about the process to make Edam and Gouda cheeses (and enjoying some samples), checking out the history and methods to make wooden shoes, touring inside one of the windmills, and enjoying hot chocolate and a delicious lunch. It was the perfect last day.

What an amazing trip! In the end, C visited a total of six countries, and I visited seven. We were able to meet up with our favorite travel buddies, CZ and Little CZ, and spend time with my sister and her family. We traveled by plane, train, bus, funicular, skylift, canal boat, cruise ship, subway, car, and on foot. C spent another week at the Euro Space Camp, this time with her cousins and where she made new friends – one of them is from, can you believe it?, Luxembourg!

It took a lot of work to plan and execute this trip – so many details and logistics! I loved it of course. I truly believe that planning a trip can be almost as fun as taking it, but I think the next trip will involve fewer moving parts! Maybe.

September 24, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Five: Luxembourg Plus

The fifth installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

*C lounging in the courtyard of the Saint-Jean-du-Grund* *Church across from the promontory rock of the Ville Haute*

Early on a Friday morning, my daughter C and I left our Amsterdam hotel and my sister, brother-in-law, and their two kids left theirs, and we headed to the airport to pick up our respective rental cars. It was time to depart for Luxembourg.

Last year, while C did space stuff at the Euro Space Camp in Belgium, I went off on my own adventures in Luxembourg and Belgium. My geography-obsessed kid was not too pleased I had popped over to another country without her. Before this trip, C, at age 11, had visited 29 countries and distinct territories. She wanted to visit more and and she told me she would very much like to visit Luxembourg. I had had such a wonderful time in the country the year before I decided to make it happen, and my sister and her family were happy to join in.

*The back entrance of the Grand Ducal Palace*

We had a four hour and a half hour drive from Schiphol Airport to Luxembourg city. After taking nearly all other forms of transport (train, taxi, ship, and bus), I was glad to get behind the wheel. I opted for the slightly longer drive through Luxembourg from the north rather than skirting the border, continuing through Belgium, and entering Luxembourg through the west. As we would be sightseeing only in the capital, I wanted C to have the opportunity to see a bit more of the country as we drove through.

Both our families arrived in the city at the same time and checked into their respective hotels, just five minutes walk from one another. We all grabbed some light snacks and then headed across La Passarelle, the famous 19th-century bridge/viaduct that connects the Ville Haute, the historic city center or Upper Town, with the central railway station, spanning the Petrusse valley. I was giddy with excitement to show my family the beautiful old town I had fallen in love with the year before. I pointed out the lovely hotel where I had stayed at, the entrance to the elevator parking garage (though it was blocked off – we could not have experienced that unique parking situation this year!), the pedestrian street I had inadvertently driven down thanks to Google maps, skirted the Grand Ducal Palace, and so on until we arrived at the meeting place for our 4 PM tour of the palace on Guillaume II Square.

*Delicious goodies at the Chocolate House Nathalie Bonn*

Last year I had not anticipated the popularity of Grand Ducal Palace tours. The palace is only open to the public for six weeks each summer when the Grand Duke is away (it is not an official residence but instead where the Grand Duke conducts royal business). Still, I had mistakenly thought I could just roll into town and get a tour for the next day or day after. Well, I was able to get a tour, but in German as the English and French tours were sold out. This year I was determined not to make the same mistake, and I checked the tourist office’s website regularly waiting for the day tours would go on sale and weeks ahead of our arrival grabbed an English tour for all six of us. I am not sure the kids were all that enthused with the tour, but I know first hand it is so much more interesting when one understands the language. And as luck would have it, we were treated to a visit to a wing with guest accommodation that had been closed off to visitors the year before. These are sumptuously decorated multi-room suites for official dignitaries visiting the Grand Duchy. While my travel companions may have been just merely interested, I was over the moon.

*C enjoys a playground in the courtyard of the 16th century monastery now housing the Theatre des Capucins*

Afterwards I showed everyone the famous Chocolate House located just across the pedestrian street from the palace’s back entrance. Entranced by the goodies on display, we all decided we needed to have a little something. Then we strolled around the old town; it really is a beautiful place where the city has so wonderfully combined the hundreds of years old buildings with the modern. We dined that evening alfresco in the Place d’Armes, a beautiful central square dating from 1671, while listening to a small orchestra play in the raised and covered stage at the square’s center, in the shadow of the elegant neo-baroque city administrative building. The weather was warm, the sky blue, and the late setting summer sun perfect for our evening.

The following morning I picked up my fellow travelers at their lodging–C had opted to spend the night with her cousins, an on-holiday sleepover–and we headed to the Ville Haute again. I had scored timed entrance tickets for the self-guided Bock Casemates tour. This was another lesson from my mistakes of my Summer 2022 visit when the Bock Casemates were closed for renovation and the Petrusse Casemates were sold out for not only my visit but for the next three weeks.

I think everyone enjoyed the Bock Casemates more than the palace. Not that the palace tour is uninteresting, it isn’t, but given its a royal residence, the tours are tightly controlled: no photographs and everyone must stay in a group visiting only certain rooms. On the other hand, the casemates are an extraordinary network of underground tunnels where we could wander at will. Sure they have history, first built in 1644 and then expanded under various European regimes into one of the continent’s greatest military defense systems, but for today’s visitors it is the 10 miles of tunnels with rooms, staircases, deep wells, and galleries with cannons and stunning views over the lower city that make it not only fascinating but fun, especially for pre-teens. We easily spent at least 90 minutes in the casemates.

We spent the rest of the day touring the city. We had a lunch of food from the Monoprix supermarket in the Place Guillaume II, next to a small children’s play area. Then we visited the Notre Dame church in the high town, climbed down the stairs from the Pont Adolphe to walk through the Petrusse Valley park until we found a yet another playground on the banks of the Alzette River. The kids played there for at least an hour, including my nephew joining in on a soccer game with some local boys. It was difficult to tear them away! We walked through the lower town by the river, visiting the the Saint-Jean-du-Grund Church and then returned to our respective hotels via the pathways beneath the Bock casemates, again up the steep steps to the Ville Haute, through the old town, and across La Passerelle bridge. We most certainly got our steps in that day!

*The amazing Porta Nigra under stunning azure skies*

The following day, Sunday, we were to drive the kids to the Euro Space Center in southern Belgium for their five day space camp. Initially, I had proposed we spend the day in southern Belgium at a castle town near the French border. As the days approached, however, I felt less and less keen on the idea. It was a small town indeed and I was not sure the kids would take to yet another castle and wondered if we would find a good lunch spot that would satisfy us all. I recalled as C and I had drove toward Luxembourg City from the north I had seen a road sign heading to the west, to Trier, and I realized the German town

*Inside the Porta Nigra, 2000 years of history*

In 1998, I traveled from Frankfurt, Germany to Luxembourg City along the Moselle River with my aunt and uncle over a long weekend. Our focus was on the small, picturesque German towns, castles, and wineries along the river. It was our limited time in Luxembourg–focused more on a nice meal, a place to lay our heads, and my aunt replacing her Villeroy & Boch pottery–that led me to return in 2022 to finally see the old town. When I saw that road sign to Trier, I recalled that my aunt, uncle, and I had also stopped there during that late 90s road trip. Yet, all I could remember from our Trier stopover was seeing the exterior of the Porta Nigra, stopping for a bathroom break at McDonald’s, and a traditional organ grinder with a monkey. That seemed woefully thin for a visit to German’s oldest town.

Everyone agreed that Trier sounded far more interesting than another castle town.

Trier is an old, old city; founded by the Celts in the 4th century B.C. and then conquered by the Romans in the 1st century B.C., the Romans made the city one of its four capitals during the 3rd and 4th centuries A.D. The city is full of sites and architectural styles through the ages from Roman to Medieval gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, Industrial and modern. It is also the birthplace of Karl Marx. There are nine UNESCO World Heritage Sites in Trier located within just a few square miles. Trier packs quite a historical punch. And we were determined to see as much of it as we could in the little time we had.

We started with the most famous of Trier’s sites, the Porta Nigra, the 1st century A.D. Roman city gate. I know I saw it back in 1998, but we did not enter. This time we did. And it was extraordinary.

*The impressive central Haupmarkt square*

Then we needed to pick up the pace! We headed off toward the medieval Haupmarkt square, where I immediately had a flashback to 1998. I am really quite sure that then the tall white building with its steep black roof and orange portico arches used to be the McDonald’s where my aunt used the restroom and my uncle and I lay in wait behind the doors to surprise my aunt. The photo above does not give justice to the splendor of this square. But no time to linger!

*Our special travel friend, Radio Duck, in front of Belgium’s Euro Space Center*

We headed to see the Cathedral of Saint Peter; commissioned by Emperor Constantine, it is the oldest church in Germany. Then we were off to the Kaiserthermen, the ruins of a Roman bath complex. I thought at first that this would not be a place that would be of much interest to C and her cousins, until we found the subterranean corridors used to heat the water in the baths above (the Romans did not finish construction of the baths). Then the kids were off for an underground game that seemed to be a mix of tag, hide-in-go-seek, and Marco Polo. Unfortunately, our time was short, so we rounded them up and then sped walked back to the city center via the gardens of the Electoral Palace, reportedly one of the finest Rococo-style palaces in the world.

It was really fun doing this Amazing Race-style of speed sightseeing with my family. We finished our break-neck paced tour of Trier with a wonderful traditional German lunch of bratwurst, schnitzel, fries, pretzels, and apple strudel. Then, sadly, we had to leave. There is so much to see in Trier and I know I would have liked more time – two or three days more – but we made a valiant effort in our four and a half hours.

C joined her aunt, uncle, and cousins in their car as we drove back across Luxembourg and to the Euro Space Center where we dropped off all three kids for camp. Then my sister and brother-in-law departed for a romantic getaway sans the kids and I turned my rental car southwest for my own solo journey.

September 20, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Four: Amsterdam

*The Netherlands is known for so many things: tulips, wooden shoes, windmills, dikes, canals, cannabis, the Red Light District, and bicycles.*

The fourth installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

On a Tuesday morning, C and I and I headed to St. Pancras station to board the Eurostar train to Amsterdam. I had long wanted to travel through the Chunnel and here we were doing it. I must say it was rather anticlimactic. The train went into a tunnel. At first I thought it a normal tunnel, but then it seemed to go on for awhile. And then we came out after some time and the conductor announced we had arrived in France! I must have been so engrossed in reading and talking with C that I had not realized the tunnel lasted half an hour. No matter, I suppose, we still took a train under the English Channel and the whole journey to Amsterdam passed by quickly and in comfort.

We were met at the train station by my sister CH1, my brother-in-law CH2, my niece NH and nephew AH. They helped us to drag our belongings to our hotel. As I had booked C’s and my trip first and given that family-sized rooms are less common in Europe than America, we were not at the same hotel, but within a quick 10 minutes walk from one another. Luckily, my sister and family had arrived a few days before, so, like us, were mostly over their jet lag.

*One of the unique sculptures in the grounds of the Moco Museum* *– displaying how people these days have basically planted their faces into their cell phones*

After getting checked-in at our hotel, we all walked to De Carrousel Pannenkoeken for lunch. The restaurant is located by a park in an old-fashioned carousel house complete with a small merry-go-round at its center. It serves Dutch pancakes, poffertjes, and Belgian waffles all day long. My sister had a list of foods she planned to try on the trip and poffertjes were at the top. My sister did not end up caring for them much, but I found them delicious.

Strolling in the museum area, we stopped for 20 minutes or so at the Moco Museum, which features modern and surrealist art, to check out the interesting sculptures in its forecourt. Our next stop was the Van Gogh Museum. My first and only other visit to Amsterdam was in the summer of 1999, when I visited on a trip from Japan, where I was teaching English. The Van Gogh Museum stood out as a highlight of that trip and I put it at the top of the list of sights to see this go round. I have only photos of paintings, which can be seen a million times over online or on postcards or other decorative items, and a photo of the three kids sitting together in a corner of a viewing area – bored of waiting for the adults to finish viewing the art, they had figured out how to jerry-rig their audio guides to search the Internet for YouTube videos. Though we spent two hours at the museum and clearly the adults could have stayed longer, the kids were ready to go. Good thing I had booked our tickets two hours before closing.

*The National Maritime Museum housed in the Arsenal, a former storehouse of the Dutch navy dating from 1656, and a replica of the Dutch East India Company’s ship the* Amsterdam

My sister said she loved the grocery stores, so I suggested we get our dinner at one and sit in the park, like I used to do when I was a backpacker with far less disposable income. Then the plan was a stroll to the historic area before heading back to our respective hotels. Unfortunately, that historic area included the Red Light District. For some bizarre reason, I thought it would be okay to walk through with the kids, and in my defense, we were not the only people strolling with their children, but I had not remembered what the area was really like. Though the sun had not yet set, it was late in the day, and the crowds were changing. A block or two was all we managed and the kids were scandalized. Not my finest travel moment.

On our second day, we had tickets for City Sightseeing’s Hop On Hop Off Bus. I have taken this company’s buses in numerous cities and have found them generally a good deal and a great way for first timers to travel or those with a short time to get around to a city’s main sights. We rode a few stops and disembarked at the Amsterdam harbor front. We walked past the historic Arsenal building, now the National Maritime Museum, to the NEMO Science Museum.

*One of the extraordinary exhibits at the NEMO Science Museum*

Here was my thinking: Pop up to the roof of the NEMO, which is free and gives a spectacular view over the harbor, then maybe a bit of time in the museum. Here is what really happened: We went into the museum and the kids were blown away and ran off in all different directions, thus we spent HOURS there and it was very difficult to round up our minor travel companions.

After the museum, we headed back to the Hop On Hop Off bus stop. And we waited. And waited. And waited. And even once on, the bus stopped at a diamond center that offered a free tour; it seemed an odd item to include on such a trip and it seemed to take forever to get in and turn around in the parking lot. Additionally, the kids were not interested in listening to the on-bus commentary at all. I seemed to have engineered another vacation faux-pas.

After a late lunch at the Hard Rock Café (so that C and I could continue our tradition), we all meandered our way back to the train station area where we boarded the Lovers Canal Cruise, included in our City Sightseeing ticket. The boat could seat maybe 50 people and it was jam packed. We could not get any window seats nor sit together. The kids reluctantly sat next to a random couple and gave me the world wary glances of pre-teens and teenagers forced to take part in something they deemed beneath them. And they refused to wear the headphones for the commentary again. I thought the tour was just okay, but that I had missed the mark again.

After the canal cruise followed my sister’s suggestion and crossed town by subway to visit the Upside Down Museum. My sister is a photographer and is always on the lookout for places that provide evocative, curious, or fun inspiration. The Upside Down museum, chock full of interactive displays that created optical illusions or amusing sets, provided just that. I had hoped that we would focus more on sights that are quintessential Amsterdam or Dutch, but we had failed to get tickets to the Anne Frank House and the kids were chomping at the bit for something super fun. Thus, off we went. And we did have a lot of fun.

The next morning, our last full one in Amsterdam before our next phase, we headed to Muiden, a small town just 10 miles from Central Station. Originally, we had planned to rent bicycles and ride the 45 minutes there, but we were not entirely sure the kids would manage the distance well, especially with at least a third of the distance on roads. None of our kids have a lot of bicycle experience, especially on roads or in crowds and my daughter, having lived most of her life in places where she could not safely ride, had the least amount. Thus, instead we planned on public transport, walking first to Central Station, taking a train to Weesp station, and then a bus to Muiden town.

I wish our trip had been as smooth as that sounded. We had no issue getting to Amsterdam Central, nor issue getting the train to Weesp. It was from Weesp to Muiden that proved more challenging. As it turns out the bus would not come for at least 45 minutes. It was difficult to see the hundreds of bicycles right there at the station bike parking, that, had we had one, would take us just 15 minutes to ride to Muiden town. Or knowing the bus is just a 10 minute ride, once it arrived, of course. I popped into my Uber app and tried to order a car for six people, but though a driver initially accepted, our ride was cancelled about five minutes later. I booked another Uber and it showed he was on his way – arriving in about 20 minutes, most certainly from Amsterdam. Once the Uber driver arrived he refused to take all six of us, so my brother-in-law and niece volunteered to take the bus, now arriving in just ten minutes.

Our destination was Muiderslot or Muider Castle, which my sister had taken to calling Murder Castle (I have no doubt some murders occurred there). For some reason, I had not really thought of the Netherlands as a country of castles, but here was Muiderslot, one of the country’s most preserved medieval fortress residences, dating from 1280. Because it is one of the Netherlands most well-known castles and is in such good shape, it is often used in period dramas. Perhaps due to its popularity and proximity to Amsterdam, the castle is well set up for visitors with two routes to follow accompanied by an audio guide. I really enjoyed the tour and the kids also appeared entertained for nearly as much time as the adults. We were also once again blessed with gorgeous weather!

*Views of the the Muider Castle and garden at Muiden*

After our visit, we contemplated lunch in the little town but the options were limited and even more so were the kids’ agreeability. Considering also that the bus only returned to the train station once an hour, we checked our watches and decided to make a run through the town to try and catch the next one. We made it just in time!

Back in Amsterdam, we grabbed some food and then took the free ferry from Amsterdam Central across the River Ij. Once again, my sister had a brilliant idea of taking in the This is Holland activity. Similar to the Soarin’ ride at Disney, This is Holland takes visitors on a seated hang-gliding-like experience while viewing an IMAX movie of sites. This is Holland would take us over famous locations in the Netherlands.

Afterwards, C and I wanted to go up the next door A’DAM Lookout and ride the Over the Edge swing at it’s top. My sister and family were more keen to visit one of the nearby historic churches, so we parted ways.

*C and I soar over Amsterdam in the Over the Edge swing*

Having been on the world’s longest tunnel slide, it only made sense that C and I would try out Europe’s highest swing. I had only learned about it two days before, but figured if given the chance we should ride it. I thought it might be hard to convince C, but she agreed right away, and even when we stood there in line at the top of the A’DAM Lookout, she was nonplussed. I was a little nervous, but after not taking the zipline in Olden, Norway, I thought I needed to give it a go. The Over the Edge sits on one side of the rooftop, and it rocks people back and forth over the edge of the building, 100 meters in the air for one minute. I would not have minded had it been, oh, 15 seconds shorter, but it was exhilarating, and I am so glad that C and I did it together.

It was a great way to wrap up our stay in Amsterdam. The following day, we would head out on the next part of our adventure.

September 17, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Three: Jolly Ole London

The third installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

After disembarking in Southampton again at the end of the cruise, we walked to the train station and caught the very crowded train to London. It turned out that weekend the weather forecast not only was expected to be lovely, but it also coincided with the Wimbledon tennis match. We all managed to get seats though none of us were sitting together, but it was better than the standing-room-only passengers who boarded after us had to take.

*A view of the iconic Tower Bridge from the Tower of London on another gorgeous weather day*

Once at London’s Waterloo Station again, we took a taxi to our hotel in the St. Giles neighborhood, close to Tottenham Court Road and the British Museum. We had only two hours to check in, store our bags with left luggage, and grab a light lunch before heading off on foot for Somerset House, where we would meet the first of our arranged activities for London – a Peppa Pig-themed bus tour.

*Delicious treats on our Peppa Pig bus tour*

OK, sure our kiddos, C at 11.5 years and Little CZ at 9, are a bit over the projected age group for the British animated series about a young animated piglet and her family, but we all found Peppa charming when it was one of our kids’ favorite tv shows and are still quite fond of it. Briget’s Bakery has specially decked out double decker buses, “the only two Peppa Pig themed buses in the world!” and combines them with a tasty English tea experience as one takes a one hour spin past some of London’s most famous sites like the Tower, St. Paul’s Cathedral, and Big Ben.

Unfortunately, we had at last encountered a stereotypical overcast and rainy London day; the first really wet day of our trip. Though we had booked the best viewing spots on the bus, the two upper deck front tables with straightforward views out large windows, the condensation made it hard to see much. Still, the delicious sweet and savory treats somewhat made up for it. But it was not quite the introduction to London we had hoped for the kids.

That evening we made our way to the Apollo Theater in Soho to catch the West End production of the musical Wicked! I had seen it in 2006 in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, while on a vacation to run a half marathon, and absolutely loved it. I very much wanted C to see it and West End productions are rather less expensive than Broadway. The show was spectacular! Both kids really loved it.

On our second day, Saturday, we headed over to the Tower of London. Like many people, I have long had a fascination with English history and particularly the times and lives of Henry VIII and am pretty sure I was introduced before I was 11 years old through Public Broadcasting Service’s period documentaries. Tudor history has not played as prominent a role in my daughter’s education or experience overseas, but I still thought she might enjoy a trip to one of the city’s most famous landmarks.

*A poppy among the wildflowers in the Tower’s moat*

We assembled, alongside a good crowd of maybe 60 people, in once-moat-now-wildflower-garden along the right-hand side of the gate to the Tower where we would meet the Yeoman who would serve as our tour guide. TC was already showing their discontent with the day’s activity, complaining of having to visit an old building and doing so in a group tour. Oh, lordy… But once our Yeoman Warder, or Beefeater, a not-so-tall man with a booming voice, a Marines-like presence, and a magnificent beard began to regal us with an introduction to the Tower and those who hold the prestigious title of Yeoman Warder of Her Majesty’s Royal Palace and Fortress the Tower of London, the kids gathered round and took notice, though it did not last long. It was not very easy to keep up with the Yeoman as he walked briskly from site to site when you were also in competition for a good spot near him with some 60 other people. Sometimes we were successful, other times not. And the further away we were, the easier it was for at least C to lose interest. The Yeoman’s storytelling was great and I would highly recommend it, but it was difficult to hear at times, despite the impressive projection of the Yeoman’s voice, in a crowd and with the wind kicking up. I recalled a Yeoman’s Tower tour from when I visited in 2006 that included some parts of the courtyard and inside the palace that we did not visit this time.

Our afternoon plan was to visit the British Museum and due to expected crowds we had reserved our entrance time in advance. Yet on arrival there was apparently no checking of tickets, no turning folks without them away. The British Museum is reportedly the United Kingdom’s most visited attraction with some 6.5 million visitors a year. It felt like every last one of them was jostling his and her way through the museum’s rooms that day.

*The British Museum’s façade and two of my favorite artefacts on display*

We came in the back entrance and then tried to visit Room 24, where we would see one of the two resident Easter Island Moai. While we did make it in and through, it might be best described as “muscled our way.” The Great Court too was thronging with people, but most in our party were thrilled to see the very well stocked museum shop. I wanted to see the collection though and to have C see it as well. CZ, who always manages to find clever activities for the kids, had got her hands on a scavenger hunt. But though the kids started out strong in the Mesoamerica section, they quickly tired of dodging others to see into displays. We thought the Egyptian section would be fantastic. It was but unfortunately so did everyone else. CZ and the kids could not stand it and CZ said she would take the kids back to the hotel. I tried to stick it out, but made it less than half an hour more. I love museums, but I also enjoy space and quiet for contemplation, and I was not finding it shuffling through rooms with thousands of fellow patrons.

On Sunday, our third day, we were up on the early side for our next planned adventure: the Warner Brothers Studio Tour on the making of Harry Potter. After several days in London, we were quite used to taking the Tube, so we made our way from Tottenham Road to Euston station, then caught the train to Watford Junction, and finally boarded the shuttle bus to the studios. Our tickets were for 9 AM, just as the Studios opened, and we were some of the first people inside.

CZ and I absolutely love the Harry Potter books and movies and have tried to instill some of the magic in our kids. I have been reading the books to C slowly over the years (we have made it through Book 5) and then watching the movies. The tour was fantastic! We walked through sets like the Great Hall, Diagon Alley, and the Forbidden Forest; we searched for hidden objects in sets, and answered trivia questions. In the Backlot Cafe, we enjoyed some Butterbeer drink and ice cream. We spent nearly five hours there, including lunch, and could have stayed longer had the kids not rushed us along.

On our last day in London, CZ and I had not really hit upon a plan. We had ideas: CZ was keen on the Churchill War Rooms; I floated the idea of the Kew Gardens. We decided on Hampton Court, but for some reason we did not buy our tickets in advance and in the summer of predicted floods of tourists in Europe, this was a mistake. No tickets were available. We then considered Westminster Abbey – no tickets available for that day. The Horrible Histories Thames Boat tour was also sold our. Tower Bridge tour? No dice. I was glad we had purchased our Harry Potter tour tickets way back in the Spring as I checked, our of curiosity sake, I saw it was sold out for the next two months.

We decided on riverboat tour from Little Venice to Camden Market along the Regent’s Canal. The morning started with a lovely breakfast at a canal side café, then we boarded our long, narrow canal boat for our tour. The original 1906 boat slipped quietly down the slender waterway passing through Regent’s Park (once part of King Henry VIII’s private hunting forest) and the stately Victorian residences, including that of the US Ambassador to the United Kingdom, past the London Zoo (the world’s oldest scientific zoo), a floating Chinese restaurant, privately moored houseboats, and then arriving at the colorful and lively Camden Town.

*A side street in very funky Camden Town*

There we first watched a boat travel through the Camden lock and then had lunch, with each of us choosing something different from the plethora of small food shacks. We ate at a large, shared picnic table enclosed in a big plexiglass bubble. After lunch, we strolled and window shopped through the area, full of trendy-punk (if that is a thing) stores with vibrant, decorative facades. It was fun to walk around, people watch, and pop into some shops.

Then we headed again for the Tube and rode to the end of the line at Stratford. There one can find the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, site of the 2012 Olympics, and in it the ArcerolMittal Orbit, the United Kingdom’s largest piece of public art. It stands 376 feet tall, 71 feet taller than the Statue of Liberty upon her pedestal. At the top one has magnificent views of the surrounding area, including the West Ham United Stadium, and all the way to central London.

But also at the top was the real reason we were visiting – The Slide. At 584 feet long, it is the world’s longest tunnel slide, and it takes its riders down twists and turns and corkscrews and drops down its length in less than 45 seconds. What was especially nice is that there were only a few people in front of us in the practically non-existent line. After days of crowds around London, this was unexpected and refreshing.

*The ArcerolMittal Orbit – from atop (left), afar (center), and below (right)*

C volunteered me as the first slider, so I donned the protective head and arm gear and lay down on the provided mat and then with a sign from the attendant away I went. Oh, it was exhilarating! I scream-laughed the whole way down. It went all too fast. And then I got to wait at the bottom for the rest to reach the slide’s end.

We returned to the top for the view and then meandered our way back to the Tube and Tottenham Court road and our hotel. Dinner was in the hotel pub where we talked and laughed and reviewed the best parts of our two weeks together. Then it was time to bid CZ and Little CZ goodnight as we would part the next morning as C and I head off on the next part of our adventure.

September 13, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Two: Cruising the Norwegian Fjords

The second installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

In Southampton, we boarded our Royal Caribbean cruise ship, the Anthem of the Seas. Though my friend CZ and her son had been on several cruises, this would be the first for C and I. Before I had thought a cruise would not suit me, us. I often travel to places a bit more off the beaten path, where cruises generally do not visit. And cruises have specific departure dates that have not matched my time off. But for a few years, CZ and I had talked about a European cruise with the kids and at last with a summer surprisingly free from work constraints, we booked one together.

*C tries her hands (and feet) at some rock wall climbing*

We snagged one of the earliest boarding times so we could have as much time to explore the ship on the first day, even before the departure time of 5 PM. Before we set sail we had had lunch, got ourselves situated into our cabins, toured the main sections of the ship, and did a few activities. Little CZ, C, and I scored a free 10 minute introductory indoor skydiving session at iFLY, and Little CZ and C tried the rocking climbing wall on deck. When we turned in that evening at a decent hour, we were confident we were off to a great start and maybe had even beat the jet lag already.

That is until the next morning, when I woke up around 8:30 AM. I could hardly believe I had slept so long. I had expected to wake in the early morning hours, maybe 6 AM at the latest. The bigger surprise though was that neither my watch nor phone clock had reset and in the dead of night had moved into continental Europe time and it was actually 9:30 AM. And we had enrolled in a sushi making class at 10 AM… I jumped up and knocked on the connecting door. CZ, groggily responded, clearly wishing me to just go away. “CZ! The clocks changed! We have our sushi making class in 25 minutes!” I think the response might have been, “Oh, sh!t!” and then “ok, we will get up!” We all got dressed as quick as we could and made our way down to the Japanese restaurant for our lesson, turning up right on time, but looking a bit worse for wear. CZ wanted coffee; I wanted a Diet Coke. All of us wanted to be doing something other than making seafood based food first thing in the morning. I was also feeling a wee bit seasick, I guess, so that was not helping. We made it through our sushi class, though saw that several other people showed up really late, thinking they were early; the time change had messed with more than just us.

We made the most of our day at sea despite our less than stellar start. The kids hit the kids club and CZ and I joined an Escape Room challenge (our team getting one of the most successful scores ever, or so our challenge leaders said). CZ caught some guitar; I read a book. The kids went to the arcade. It was a pretty good day overall.

*View of Bergen from Mt. Floyen, with the funicular making its trip up in the foreground*

The following morning we arrived, in absolutely amazing weather, to Bergen. Persons on the cruise just the month before had experienced cold rain and even a bit of snow, and here we had temperatures in the 80s under blazing blue skies. We had tickets for the Floibanen Funicular and opted to walk the 20 minutes from the cruise ship terminal rather than deal with a bus. The funicular, which has been running since 1918, takes about 5 minutes to scale the hillside and deposit tourists and locals alike 1000 feet above the city. At the top are restaurants and playgrounds and hiking trails. We didn’t have much of a plan other than the funicular, given that Bergen is Norway’s second largest city (i.e. would have shops) and is known for its UNESCO World Heritage listed Hanseatic commercial buildings lining its old port.

*From left to right: Whale sausage for sale, Rosenkrantz Tower, Hanseatic merchant buildings in historic Bryggen, and C standing with a troll statue at the top of Mt. Floyen*

Atop Mt. Floyen, we followed a person dressed in a troll costume to a clearing where we watched the first part of a kids program. It seemed weirdly mesmerizing, even to C, especially when another person also showed up in a goat costume and the troll and goat talked and sang in high-pitched voices, mostly in Norwegian. The kids played on a really nice wooden playground complete with balance beams, ziplines, and what was likely a crooked four story troll house. We made our way back down the hill, again by funicular, and lunched in the city center. We strolled along the main thoroughfare in the Bryggen historic harbor district. Here, C and I opted to visit the medieval Rosenkrantz Tower (I have long loved the Tom Stoppard classic Rosenkrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead and historic places) while CZ and Little CZ hit the fish market (C and I do not eat fish and C has long had the amazing ability to will herself to vomit when confronted with too many dead fish, like in a market, which I discovered when we lived in China). Then we made our way back through town to the ship to head off to the next port.

CZ and I watched atop the ship for quite some time as we sailed out of the fjords surrounding Bergen. The water was like pliable glass that we silently sliced through. Seagulls kept pace alongside, dipping and floating in our windy wake. I was not sure I had been anywhere quite like this and counted my lucky stars to have visited and in such glorious weather.

On our third morning, we woke early to the still, turquoise waters of a bay enclosed by emerald green hills and the small hamlet of Olden, where the ship had docked around 5 AM. We had breakfast by the window staring out into the picture postcard scene. There was a forecast of rain, but not until about 2 in the afternoon, when we would already be on board for our 3 PM departure.

We had tickets for the Loen Skylift, a mountain cable car that whisks visitors up a thousand meters to Mt. Hoven, located just six kilometers from Olden. We boarded the free shuttle bus after breakfast and took the 10-minute bus ride to the lower station. Despite the very good weather and two cruise ships in port, there was almost no wait. At the top, the view of snow covered peaks dramatically rising steep above glacier-carved waterways was awe inspiring.

We walked around a little at the top as we waited for our lunch reservation in the restaurant, most probably on some list for dining establishments with the most dramatic views. Unfortunately, my daughter started to feel not quite well; she fell asleep at the lunch table and complained of a headache. We had had plans to take the thrilling zipline (twice across a crevasse 1000 meters above the valley!) but C told me she did not want to do it anymore and just wanted to return to the ship. Truth be told, I was a tad bit scared at the possibility of that zipline; I thought I might be able to do one, but two? C not feeling well took the decision out of my hands. However, before we went down, I wanted to do a little bit of a walk. C and Little CZ did not and so CZ and I strolled on our own for about 20 minutes while the kiddos waited in the small visitor center. Then C and I returned to Olden and the ship on our own. I felt a little relieved, but also disappointed and wistful I had not done the zipline. Everyone made it back on board before the skies opened up and at last the threatened rain fell.

The even smaller village of Geiranger (with a year round population hovering around 250 people) was our next stop. It is located at the terminus end of the UNESCO-World Heritage protected Geirangerfjord, one of two Norwegian fjords afforded the UNESCO badge for their “exceptional natural beauty.”

*The Seven Sisters waterfall as our cruise ship slips through Geirangerfjord*

For our first time during the trip, the weather was less than ideal. Clouds hung low, dusting and obscuring the tops of the fjord walls and there was a misting rain. We walked up the road from the dock, winding through the village, until we joined the wooden stepped boardwalk known as the “waterfall walk” that led to the Norwegian Fjord Center.

At the Fjord Center, CZ told the young woman manning ticket desk that we wanted a family ticket. The woman looked at her and said “A family ticket is two parents and two children.” I look at her and point at CZ and then myself and say “Right, two parents,” and then at wave my finger over C and Little CZ “and two children.” The young woman skips a beat, a pause that seems to linger longer than the actual second or two, and then she rings us up for a family ticket. I had never expected to be challenged on family dynamics in Scandinavia. That episode was one of the funniest of the whole trip.

*Bridal Veil falls, dwarfing the RIB below and the house on the cliffs to the left of the falls*

The Fjord Center was fantastic – a wall sized interactive UNESCO World Heritage Site map, full sized replica of old fjord homes and a boat that even rocks as you board, and lots of information on the geology and history of fjords.

We returned to the dock to meet our RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat) for a thrilling one-hour tour through the fjord. Our guide alternated between full throttle so that we bumped over the water and stops for photos and history. Most interesting were the families in old, much poorer, Norway, who were willing to build a home half way up a cliffside to eke out a living. And that many of those homes remain in the families’ possession after centuries – imagine spending your vacation in a home you have to get to by boat and then an hour hike up a very steep incline?

Following our RIB tour we were back on the ship just in time for departure. As we left with much daylight left, CZ and I opted to sit and watch our exit through the fjord while the kids went to the kids’ club. We were certainly not alone on deck to witness this spectacular journey, nearly every available spot along both sides of the ship was full. Amazingly, when we reached the Seven Sisters waterfall the captain made an announcement that he would be turning the ship in a full 360 to allow for everyone on the ship to see the falls. Considering the fjord at that location is probably 500 meters wide at that point and the Anthem of the Seas is 350 meters long, this is quite the feat, and it was executed with inspiring smoothness for the passengers.

Our fourth and final stop in Norway was Haugesund. There we had booked a boat and Viking experience tour. We boarded a tourist boat from the waterway in the center of town to take us the 10 kilometers downstream to the medieval village of Avaldsnes. King Harald Fairhair made the village his royal seat in the year 870 and from here launched his campaigns and diplomacy and eventually united the then-Norway. It was a fitting place to learn about the Vikings.

We landed on the island of Bukkoy, where there is a reconstructed Viking farm. It was really cool and they had some fantastic persons working there who were knowledgeable and excellent at staying in character. We only had only a little over an hour to look around at the traditional homes (long house, a boat house, and smaller buildings) and gardens, try on chain mail and a Viking helmet, and try to play with some typical toys for Viking tots.

Once back in the Haugesund city center, we strolled for a bit, including a visit to statue of Marilyn Monroe, born Norma Jean Mortensen, as the city claims to be the home of Marilyn’s father. Then it was back to the ship.

That evening on the ship we caught the West End production of We Will Rock You. Having just taking C to see the musical Aladdin on Broadway, I was pretty excited to have her see another stage production. And though she was not sure she knew the songs of Queen that are used throughout the show, it turned out she knew most of them.

We had one final day at sea as we sailed back to England. We were lucky to get a spot on the North Star, a viewing capsule that rises 300 feet into the air and swings maybe 75 degrees to each side to give a tremendous view of the ship. It is currently in the Guinness Book of World Records for “highest viewing deck on a cruise ship.” Our initial booking on the first day at sea had been cancelled due to strong winds, so we were glad to find another spot on the last day. Additionally, we played a group puzzle game (our team of three – as C sat it out not feeling well – did not fair so well) and finally enjoyed a dunk in the jacuzzi.

*View of the North Star as it rises above the deck (left) and a view of the ship while underway in the North Sea (right)*

Then the next morning it was all over. Norway was breathtaking and a cruise through its fjords a magnificent method to see the country and experience cruising; C’s and my first cruise exceeded all our expectations. Now though, it was time for the next phase of our journey.

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