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.

September 10, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part One: Preparation and Arrival in the UK

*The parliament buildings in typical London cloudy weather on our first morning*

The last eight months since curtailing from Guinea have been a mix of wrestling with disappointment at what led to our departure and adjusting to being back in the U.S. and relief. One big plus with returning to the U.S. for work though was being able to plan and take a long summer vacation. Had I stayed in Guinea, I expect that between the summer transfer season turnover and continuing staffing gaps, I would have had difficulty taking much time, if any, off.

Yet back in the U.S., in an office flush with staff and work/life balance, the request was approved quickly and very early. A week after starting my new job in January, my boss had signed off on my 3.5 weeks of leave in July. Frankly, I was a little stunned but extremely pleased. Time off overseas has often required a great deal of coordination between myself, my colleagues, and bosses. Here it was just a matter of asking and then receiving. I could then begin planning for all the moving parts of this incredible trip that would include a planes, trains, automobiles, and a cruise, coordination with my friend CZ and my sister and brother-in-law CH1 and CH2, summer camp, some solo time, and six countries.

Although I have been in the U.S. several significant chunks of time for language and/or functional training (July 2011-July 2012; July 2014-January 2015; April 2017-August 2017; August 2021-June 2022), the only vacationing has been during home leave, which must be taken in the U.S. The leave policy during training is strict and does not allow for time off except in very few circumstances (maybe your own wedding, and even that is not guaranteed). During summers we have either been arriving for training or departing for Post, or I was at Post and time off tended to be maximum two weeks to accommodate the travel and transfer schedules of colleagues. This summer has been the first summer where I have been based in the U.S. since 2008!

I was determined to make the most of it.

*The weather turned uncharacteristically stunning for our trip on the London Eye*

We flew out the early evening of July 5. In preparation, I had worked to get my daughter C and I to bed early on the two evenings before. This involves some melatonin and another light sleeping draught. My rather dramatic pre-teen proclaimed loudly to anyone who would listen that I had drugged her. We may have been in bed before the fireworks started on July 4th, but we were plenty tired to sleep on our red-eye flight and adjusted to European time a sight easier.

We landed at 6 AM and after collecting our bags and going through immigration we caught a Bolt (like an Uber) from Heathrow to CZ and her son Little CZ’s hotel on the Albert Embankment. Initially, the plan had been to stay a night in London and then make our way down to the cruise ship port the following morning, but the logistics and cost of booking a car transport or the possibility of a train strike on the day of made me wary and it just felt better to go down to Southampton the day before. My friend and her son had arrived a few days before us and were settled into a nice room with a late checkout, so we would meet them, have a bit of a stroll around, and then catch a southbound train.

We had advance booked a flexi-fast pass ticket for the London Eye that allowed us to not only skip the line but ride the wheel whenever we wanted on a given day. It was much pricier, but gave us a lot of flexibility. One thing that was paramount on our trip was advance bookings, as we had heard that tourist numbers in Europe would be very high and we wanted to be sure to get into the venues and see the attractions on our must-see lists. The few times we failed to do this during the trip resulted in us missing out.

We walked along the embankment, alongside the National COVID Memorial Wall, a stark reminder of the pandemic that we were only starting to put in the rearview mirror. In the space of our stroll’s beginning and our arrival at the London Eye, the grey clouds had scattered and the sun had come out in force, and C and Little CZ had been reacquainted as if little time had passed since they had last seen one another a little more than a year before. We enjoyed our turn on the wheel, at least CZ and I did; the kids may have been rather blasé about it, though happy enough with some food truck eats and time on the playground by the Eye.

*Some of Southampton’s Titanic Memorials – the Memorial to the Titanic Musicians (left), the Titanic Crew Memorial (center), and the Titanic Engineers Memorial (right)*

We took the long way back to the hotel crossing over Westminster Bridge then passing Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and the Parliament buildings, to cross back over Lambeth Bridge. We took a little rest in the hotel room and then, in one of the roomy black traditional-looking cabs, arrived at London Waterloo station to catch our just over an hour train to Southampton.

We arrived just before 5 PM and then walked the short distance to the Novotel, where we would stay the night. With a cruise ship in port, we had not had a lot of lodging options and had worried a little about the lack of air conditioning, common enough in England, at the hotel, but it was cool enough and we were all jet lagged, so after some dinner we all turned in early.

I woke up around 3:30 in the morning. I was wide awake and hungry.

There are times when I quite enjoy a little jet lag. Not when I have to be awake for a meeting or get through a full day of work, no, but when I am in a place where it is nice to see the sunrise or there may be something to do in the middle of the night (from trying on feather boas in a 24/7 Walmart or visiting the top of the Burj Khalifa at 5 AM), it can be rather fun. But lying awake in the dark while the other three people in the room sleep? Not all that jolly. As soon as breakfast started at 6 AM, I was there, reading my book. I was not sure how long the rest of my party would sleep, but CZ had mentioned waking around 9 AM so we could visit a local museum that opened at 10. I did not want to sit around that long.

*The imposing Medieval Bargate (left) and the ruins of Holyrood Church from its courtyard*

Southampton is perhaps most famous as the departure point for the RMS Titanic. I knew there was the museum, but wondered if there were any where else in town that commemorated the historic tragedy? I checked my phone and saw there was a memorial to the ship’s musicians just 15 minutes from the hotel and another memorial to the Titanic’s engineers just a minute from there across the street. I looked at my watch, I had more than two hours to go for a stroll…

It was a beautiful Friday morning before the businesses and shops opened and it felt like I had the city almost to myself. After finding the musician and engineers memorials, I realized it was not even 7 AM and the map showed there were several more heritage and historic landmarks not far away. Off I went! The 12th century Norman Bargate, smack dab in the shopping street, was used to collect local taxes from those entering or leaving the town. Further down the street stood the atmospheric ruins of the Holyrood church, which was built in 1320 and then destroyed in the Blitz in 1940. In the base of the clock tower stands a stone ornamental fountain, with a small relief of the Titanic at its top, dedicated to the ship’s crew, most of whom came from Southampton. I also passed the God’s House Tower, a 13th century gatehouse, a medieval merchant’s home, and parts of the town’s original walls. It was such a joy to walk for so long in the quiet morning seeing the sights, but I ran out of time and had to head back.

Back at the hotel the rest of the party was roused and had breakfast and we headed to the see the Titanic exhibition at the SeaCity Museum. It was a really spectacular! There was information and photos (those that had them done) of the crew living in Southampton, mementos from the ship, recreations of the ship’s interior, and audio of survivors’ stories and transcripts from the Senate hearings on the disaster.

*A real 2nd class breakfast menu (passengers often mailed their menus to loved ones) and part of the carved grand staircase from the Olympic, nearly identical to that on its sister ship the Titanic*

Unfortunately, we had only an hour at the museum as we needed to get back to the hotel to check out and then head to the City Cruise Ship Terminal to begin the next phase of our vacation.

June 12, 2023 by trs

New York City Visit on a Long Weekend

_{View from the 80th floor of the Empire State Building}

I have long wanted to go to New York.

Well, what I mean is I have long wanted to spend more than a day in the Big Apple. Throughout my life, I have visited the city three times, but each time for only a day. In high school, probably my junior year, our class took a trip from the Northern Virginia area to New York City. We left around 6:30 AM and returned at 10:30 PM. I do not remember much from the trip — we went to Wall Street to see the New York Stock Exchange, we visited the FAO Schwartz toy store (the movie Big had come out the year before), and we sat on the floor of the Trump Tower lobby and were scolded by guards. In college, I went home one Thanksgiving with my roommate to Connecticut, and the Friday after the holiday we took the train into the city. We visited the Macy’s flagship store and goofed around at the Museum of Modern Art. Later, when I started working in Washington, DC, after graduate school, I took the train up for the day to visit that former roommate who was spending the summer in the city. I visited the Tenement Museum and we walked around Central Park.

In addition to wanting to spend enough time in New York City to require a hotel stay, I wanted to bring C to see it too. Initially, I had hoped our 2021 Home Leave would include as much as a week in the city, but with COVID-19 still going strong, it was not feasible. NYC restrictions on the unvaccinated (which included kids like C) kept it off our list and as French training grew in intensity in the Spring of 2022, I did not feel I could getaway for a whole weekend.

I knew as soon as we were back in the Washington, DC area that we were going to take a trip to New York for Memorial Day weekend. After reviewing all the planes, trains, and automobile options, I decided the easiest and most economical would be to take one of the bus companies that ply the DC to NYC route.

*We had a view of the Empire State Building from our hotel room!*

Early on the Saturday, we took the Vamoose bus from Rosslyn, Virginia to New York City. It was a good, comfortable trip. C said she was excited to see the view from the bus on the way; she was not quite blown away by the Jersey Turnpike as she had hoped, but once we began to approach the city and the Lincoln Tunnel, she perked up.

We excitedly disembarked from the bus at Penn Station; only a ten minute walk from our hotel. Unfortunately, within five minutes of our arrival, at the first corner, while waiting for the crosswalk, we witnessed one man assaulting another man. We heard yelling, then a bottle breaking, and a man ran to the street, blood running down his face, before he turned and ran down 7th Avenue. It was pretty shocking, though being New York, there were crowds of people standing around with little to no reaction. But I turned to C to find tears in her eyes and she told me, “Mom, I want to go home.”

Oh man, that was hard. For all the places we have been, all the unfamiliar, exciting, unpredictable, and even dicey situations we have been in, sometimes one does not expect it at “home.” C has had limited experience in the U.S. and most of it has been on vacation. Not that I want her to experience the negative! It is only that she has not been exposed to it so much until recently. I hugged her and asked if maybe we could just get to the hotel and see how we felt from there. She agreed.

We walked the seven and a half blocks to our hotel. It was too early to check in, so we stored our bags, and I took C to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch to cheer her up. We have been into eating at Hard Rocks over the past year – in DC, Lisbon, Grand Cayman, and now New York. C and I enjoyed our favorites and then we were ready for the next part of our New York adventure.

We headed over to the New Amsterdam Theater on West 42nd Street, stopping at the Hard Rock Cafe gift shop (C loves her Hard Rock Cafe t-shirts) and MINISO (C also loves her Japanese cute stuff). C and I were catching the matinee of Disney’s Aladdin on Broadway!

I had originally planned for us to see Chicago as it is one of C’s favorite movies and she knows all the songs. But I had heard the current New York production, though the longest running Broadway show, has little in the way of set and costume glamour. C and I also really know Aladdin and it seemed a natural second choice. I knew it would really have the Broadway pizzazz. And boy did it deliver! Disney changed up some of the storyline for the stage and added in a few extra songs and the singing, set, and costumes were fantastic. C and I both loved it!

After the show and a quick meal and rest at the hotel, we headed to Nintendo New York at Rockefeller Plaza. C had long wanted to visit this iconic store, the only one outside of Japan. She loves Nintendo and Pokémon and the Nintendo New York store has a Pokémon section with plush characters not available anywhere else for retail in the U.S. The place was packed, with a roped line for the cashier register as if we were at an amusement park. C had been saving up her allowance for just such an occasion and she did not leave that store empty handed.

On Sunday morning, our second day, we headed to Madame Tussauds. This stop had not been on my original agenda, but the location is just a few doors down from the New Amsterdam Theater, and C had asked me what it was. After I explained it was a famous wax museum with wax replicas of celebrities with some 20 locations around the world, she begged me to go. With all my travels, I had never actually been to a Madame Tussauds, and though London is supposed to have the largest, the New York location is probably considered the best, so it seemed a fitting place for us to both visit for the first time. I imagine the place can get pretty packed, but we arrived very soon after opening and the crowds were not bad. I am not sure I could go out of my way to visit another Madame Tussauds, but C and I had a fun time.

C and I then walked the 17 blocks from Madame Tussauds to Central Park. We grabbed some lunch and then walked an additional 18 blocks through the park to the American Museum of Natural History. Another of C’s favorite movies is Night at the Museum. We have been to the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History in Washington, DC multiple times, but we had long planned to visit the one in New York, featured in the original Night at the Museum movie. C and I were a little disappointed to learn that we could not find the Theodore Roosevelt statue at the museum (there is still a seated one though we could not locate it; the famous one in front of the museum was removed in January 2022 as it was culturally insensitive); we would also find no Sacagawea, no Genghis Khan, no small display of American cowboys or Romans or Pompeii. But we did find the Moai head from Easter Island, the capuchin monkey, the blue whale, and Rexy. And so many other amazing displays. We spent over three hours at the museum and just scratched the surface of all it had to offer.

*The Theodore Roosevelt Rotunda at the American Museum of Natural History*

Having already more than met our step count for the day, C and I braved the New York subway to return to 42nd Street. With the ability to pay for up to four riders with a single credit card direct at the turnstile (no need to buy physical tickets!) we managed quite nicely.

I have to admit that even with all my travel all over the world, I was a bit nervous to ride the New York City subway! That assault we witnessed upon arrival had also rattled me. Come on, I told myself, you have been on plenty of public transportation options in countries all over and in plenty I did not speak the language. Just to make sure I understood the ease of paying for the subway, I approached a guard at the museum to ask him. “Yeah, sure, you can totally ride the subway!” he said jovially. “Yep, just scan your card twice at the turnstile and make sure you wait until it turns green.” But then his voice dropped an octave and turned serious, “But be careful. Have your daughter go through first. Stay close to one another. Do not let anyone else get close too close to you. Keep a tight grip on all your belongings,” he added with an air of danger. And then he smiled, “You will be fine! Have a great night.” I was not sure how to feel. I felt both buoyed and wary. We only had to go three stops! I pumped myself up. And we did it.

Before heading back to the hotel we stopped at one more New York megastore (It’s Sugar – another of C’s favorites) for C to indulge in some more retail therapy.

On our final morning in New York, we headed over to the Empire State Building for a visit to the exhibits on the first floor and then views on the 80th, 86th, and 102nd floors. We truly lucked out with our timing. Only the day before, I purchased our tickets for the first available visit at 9 AM. We arrived maybe ten minutes early, but we were let in anyway. There was no line and we whizzed past all the stanchions setup for when there are crowds.

*C gets “carried away” at the Empire State Building*

The exhibits on the history and national and international cultural phenomenon of the building are amazing. So many movies, television shows, and advertisements have featured the world-famous iconic building. I could have taken C to Top of the Rock or the One World Observatory, but I had to go with the Empire State. Though it has not been the tallest building since 1970 (it is still the 54th tallest), it is by far the most famous building in the world.

I think C really enjoyed the exhibition and the views from the enclosed 80th floor, but once we went out on the 86th floor outdoor viewing platform, she was less enthused with the height. She does not remember that I took her to the Burj Khalifa (the world’s tallest building) when she was just 14 months old. She does not remember so well staying at the Intercontinental Hotel Nanjing in a room on the 77th floor of the Zifeng Tower (the 25th tallest building in the world), or staying in a hotel room on the 66th floor of the Jin Mao Tower (the 37th tallest building in the world) while visiting the top of the Shanghai Tower (the second tallest building in the world). Heck, we have lived on the 19th floor (in Shanghai) and the 23rd floor (in Guinea), and again on the 19th floor (Virginia). I have been taking C to tall buildings all her life.

We not only had little in the way of crowds, but we also had gorgeous weather, at least for the views from inside. Outside on the 86th floor platform, it was very windy. I did not want to rush, but I will admit that my legs too feel a bit wobbly when I look out from a high height. We walked the whole way around, took some photos, and then I gave in to C’s entreaties to get inside to safety! I got a good ole preteen death laser stare when I said we had one more elevator to board to the 102nd floor. I expect C was afraid that I was next going to make her hang on the side of the building. Luckily, the top observation floor is all enclosed, though its floor to ceiling windows can still give one the willies when standing too close to them. C perked up again though with the views of all of Manhattan and beyond. It was truly spectacular.

It was time then to pack up and take the bus back to Virginia. We packed a lot into our little weekend though the Big Apple has far too much to see in such a short time. Despite the rough start, C declared it fantastic, giving the Aladdin show and New York City shopping two thumbs up for her favorite things about the trip. I think I will be able to convince her to go back.

May 9, 2023 by trs

Spring Break on Grand Cayman: Part Two

*Memorial plaque and viewpoint at the site of the famous 1794 Wreck of the Ten Sails*

On our fourth day in Grand Cayman, we opted to make a trip to the capital of this island nation, Georgetown. Again, we caught the first hotel shuttle of the day to make the 15-minute drive. We stopped first at the cruise ship terminal to drop off an older couple who were trying to catch their cruise after missing its initial departure in Florida. We could easily have walked from there to the museum, our first stop, but the driver insisted on taking us all the way.

As cities of the world go, Georgetown is not particularly large, but its population of 35,000 makes it the largest capital of the United Kingdom’s 14 British Overseas Territories. I love that the town was initially called Hogsties, named for all the pigs kept in the vicinity! The bay is still called Hog Sty Bay.

We stopped first at the Cayman Islands National Museum. Though quite small, it is chock full of information and uses some really nice multi-media presentations. The museum is housed in the oldest public building in the Caymans, dating from the 1830s.

After visiting the museum, we took a stroll around the town. A few cruise ships were in port and the main streets fronting the harbor were busy with cruise ship passengers clogging the souvenir shops. A few blocks back and it was just a quiet Wednesday afternoon in a small island capital. We passed the House of Parliament, the library, the 1919 Peace Memorial and the Clock Tower constructed in 1937 in memory of King George V, and Heroes Square. It was not a long walk, but it was enough to drum up an appetite for our lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe, which surprisingly was not too busy. After lunch, we called the hotel shuttle for pick-up and spent the rest of the day lazing around the hotel.

On Thursday, I rented a car. I just did not want to keep relying on the hotel shuttle that only operated from 10 AM to 5 PM on the hour or the island bus. or the pricey taxis. We needed some wheels! Unfortunately, we did have to get another taxi to the airport to pick up the rental, but we would drop at the airport when we departed. I had opted for the smallest, most economical car but was pretty excited when we upgraded to a mini jeep! The perfect car to tool around the island.

*The Cayman Islands National Museum, the sign welcoming tourists at the port, and a fun sculpture at Heroes Square*

We first drove over to the far east end of the island to visit the Cayman Parrot Sanctuary. It is an approximately 45-minute drive, but more like an hour or hour and 15 minutes when you are completely unfamiliar with the roads and tend to go around one too many times at the traffic circles. (not saying that was me, just saying that *could* happen to some people). Frankly, the driving was fine with a few little wrinkles. For example, on the one road that resembled a highway, the East-West Arterial Road, the posted speed limit was 40. Given that we were in a British territory and driving on the left, I assumed the posted speed limit was in kilometers. Certainly, the speedometer in the car used kilometers. But 40 kilometers an hour is just 25 miles an hour and seemed extremely slow for a two-lane each way highway. This was really puzzling me until I saw that there were a few places near the posted speed limits where there were those digital “Your Speed” signs and it was reading in miles per hour!

The Cayman Parrot is the only native parrot to the Cayman Islands and their national bird. C had got it in her head recently that she wanted a parrot and was thrilled to learn she could visit with the birds during our Grand Cayman vacation. The Cayman Parrot Sanctuary has much more than parrots. We were able to go into an enclosure and feed some parrots, parakeets, and cockatiels; then to another enclosure to pet some sweet little guinea pigs, held a small snake, and pet the resident agouti.

*The beautiful historic house at Pedro St. James*

After the parrot center, we drove back towards town stopping briefly at the site overlooking the reef where ten British sailing ships wrecked centuries before. It’s the most famous wreck of the Caymans and Queen Elizabeth II dedicated a memorial to remembrance in 1994 when she visited.

When then traveled on to the historic site of Pedro St. James. On arrival we were informed that there was a large cruise ship group arriving in about 20 minutes so we would have to wait for them to view the 4-D introductory presentation. C and I cruised the grounds a little before returning to join the group for the presentation. Afterward, knowing that the group would be tramping through the home together, we had lunch at the on-site cafe. We had also opted for the self-tour of the house as the guided tour was about 90 minutes long! The house is interesting, and I would have loved to have heard more on the architecture and history, but it is not a big home, and I did not think C would hold out that long (or I for that matter).

After lunch we then had the “castle” all to ourselves. Though it was not large by today’s standards, it would have dwarfed nearly all other buildings on the island. If I remember correctly, the first floor was the food storage and preparation areas while the second and third floors were the living spaces. The most extraordinary part of the home was the wide wrap-around verandas which created additional living space with an additional room in each corner and light-filled, ventilated walkways between that could be used for extra seating or office space or whatever. The house is the oldest surviving stone structure in the Caymans and is known as the birthplace of Cayman democracy as it was here at the “castle” where in 1831 a decision was made to form the territory’s first parliament and in 1835 an envoy from the Governor of Jamaica read the proclamation ending slavery in the British Empire. It was well worth a visit.

On Friday, our sixth day, the weather had turned. It was still very warm of course, but it had grown cloudy and windy. I was glad we had joined the Stingray City tour early in the week as the wind made the sea a bit choppier. I woke up early to catch the sunrise and walked out to the hotel’s little beach. It did not look promising with all the clouds, but just when it looked like there would be no sunrise at all, a ball of red light began to glow at the base of the clouds. With the cloud cover, the light did not have much room to grow, but though small, it was dramatic.

It was Good Friday, which turns out to be quite a big holiday in the Caymans. I had not realized the strength of the Christian belief such that places that are open nearly all year round are closed only on Christmas Day and Good Friday. While looking around for someplace that would be open, one site noted that they had live music six days a week and would do so seven if Cayman law were amended to allow it! Normally, I am quite thorough in my research of vacation destinations, but I did not anticipate this. I found that a lot of entertainment and restaurant venues would be closed on Good Friday, limiting our options. But in the end, we just wanted to hang out and I wanted to drive.

We first made our way back to Hell as C wanted to check out the gift shop. Imagine our disappointment that though the sign for Hell indicated it was open daily, it was in fact closed on Good Friday. (There is a lot to unpack there, but I will leave that to the reader to do so). From there we headed to the Dolphin Center, just across from the Cayman Turtle Center. Though we did not intend to book any dolphin experience, a fellow tourist had mentioned there was an observation area that we could enter for free. We spent about an hour watching the dolphins as they swam and jumped either on their own or in their interactions with the paying guests.

For lunch, we stopped at a delicious Mexican place in town that was luckily open on the holiday. Then we drove the hour or so to Starfish Point at the tip of the landmass on the right side of North Sound. I had hoped the drive would reveal beautiful ocean or other views but frankly, it was a bit on the boring side. Initially, we passed through the same towns we had the day before and it was largely shopping centers and residential homes. There seemed little in the way of beaches on the less populated, eastern part of the island. As we cut up Frank Sound Road, the only road the cuts north/south in the east, the few houses quickly gave way to dry scrubland. Even along the northern road to Rum and Starfish points I found few spots worthy of a stop.

Once we arrived in the vicinity of Starfish Point, we saw where a good chunk of the local population was spending their Good Friday. I had never thought of Easter as a party kind of holiday, much less Good Friday. But it seems in the Caymans that it very much can be. Camping over the Easter weekend is a Cayman tradition and the popular beaches, like Starfish Point, are covered over with pop-up tents with friends and families eating and drinking, cooking and talking, and swimming. We made our way over to Starfish Point, hoping we might see some starfish in the shallow waters, but there were far too many people and boats (including a BBQ boat selling food to those not cooking themselves). No one stopped us from wading in the water, but no one interacted with us either. C and I were the odds one out. We were not local, we did not know people, it was not our holiday. We got ice cream at the very busy Kaibo restaurant nearby before we headed back.

*Flora at the Queen Elizabeth II Botanic Park*

On Saturday, our last full day on Grand Cayman, we headed back over to the East End to visit the Queen Elizabeth II Botanic Park. We arrived soon after the opening – I wanted us to be there before the free Easter festivities for local kids commenced. After days of clouds, the morning was hot and humid. In many areas of the park, one could walk beneath a canopy of plants but between individual gardens the path lay directly in the sun. There were a few other visitors but we had little interaction and it was almost like having the park to ourselves. Visiting the park was also a chance to see the endangered blue iguanas, only found on the island of Grand Cayman. We were able to see some roaming around the park but also in the conservation center on the property.

That evening we had one final activity – a tour that would include a visit to Bioluminescent Bay. I had read that it was not advised to swim in the bay given the type of algae involved can be harmful to humans and humans can be harmful back. But we were still up to seeing the phenomenon. Our boat left the dock about an hour before sunset so that we could watch the sun sink as we motored from the inlet near Governor’s Creek across the North Sound, returning again to Starfish Point. The Easter revelers were in rare form with music from the campers on shore and that from several party boats competing. C and I stayed on the boat chatting with some other tourists (who as incredible luck would have it live only a few blocks from us in Virginia!) while most of our boat’s occupants jumped into the shallow waters. It did not take long for many of them to rush back onto the boat for some treatment for jellyfish stings! I am not sure what our tour guides were using as luckily C and I had no need, but there were at least eight on our boat that needed treatment.

Ironically, our next stop was the Jellyfish Bar – where our tour guides tried to lure us off the boat into the one-foot-deep waters to learn about jellies and hold them. After a good third of our boat had just experienced some stings, it was a little bit of a hard sell, but the guides explained this interesting fact: jellies cannot sting the palm of the hand or the sole of our foot. The guide scooped up a jellyfish and deposited it into the palm of our hands. Both C and I even gave it a try and lo and behold it was true. Though afterwards it is key to use the sand to “wash” our hands to remove any of the minuscule barbs the jellyfish may have left behind to ensure we do not transfer them to other parts of our body where it will in fact hurt.

After our educational jellyfish stop, the sun had set and night had fully come, we motored into Bioluminescent Bay for those who would participate. From the boat, C and I could see some of the glow, but it was not nearly as impressive as we thought it might be. Maybe it would have been better in the water, but I was happy to just stay on the boat to see the sunset, enjoy the oohs and aahs from our fellow travelers, and the cooler air as we headed back in at the end of the trip. It was a great way to end the trip.

All in all, it was a good vacation for C and me; we had just the right amount of activity, including a once-in-a-lifetime stingray experience, and lazing about. I was so proud of C for getting out of her comfort zone — kissing a stingray, holding a snake, holding a jellyfish, riding a scooter, and her willingness to snorkel her second and third times ever after a not great first experience several years before. After the challenging previous months, we needed some wins and we found them in Grand Cayman.

May 3, 2023 by trs

Spring Break on Grand Cayman: Part One

Three months after our early return to the United States from Guinea, my daughter had her Spring Break. We had had such a topsy-turvy few months with our unexpected return, then two months in temporary housing, and then a move to a more permanent place, that I really wanted us to have a nice mother-daughter getaway. We had to cancel our original R&R trip from Guinea in December since we were leaving and we had only had the quick trip to Maf Village and Sierra Leone, which while a fun little adventure with friends, was not the same as the initial two-week vacation I had planned.

Finding ourselves back in Virginia during winter after always-hot West Africa, I longed to be warm again. The Caribbean seemed a good choice. But where in the Caribbean? I wanted someplace where a week would allow us to see most, if not all, we wanted to see and maybe even allow for some real downtime. After checking out a few places, I settled on Grand Cayman.

Grand Cayman is not my usual sort of place. Do not get me wrong. I absolutely love sunshine, beaches of soft, pretty sand, palm trees, and glistening clear water. I just cannot do it all day long under the noonday sun. I also like to enjoy it in peace and quiet without 10,000 other people on holiday all around me. In Cayman, C and I found a good compromise.

Then just a week before this trip our shipment of 3,500 pounds of Household Effects (HHE) had been delivered to our new apartment – an overwhelming activity at any time – and I had learned that an acquaintance of mine – a fellow single mom diplomat – had passed away. I was very much in need of a getaway.

*We had extraordinary weather on the flight down – A view of the Florida Keys from the air*

We had an early flight and the three hours to Grand Cayman went quickly. Although I had planned to sleep, the gorgeous weather and views kept me awake and glancing out the window regularly.

Although we arrived on Grand Cayman just after 10 AM in the morning, I did not have all that much planned for this first day. We took a taxi from the airport to the Holiday Inn Resort, our hotel for the week. The hotel is in the same general area as the famous Seven Mile Beach, but on the opposite side of the island. Though only 1.5 miles as the crow flies from Seven Mile Beach it is located across a highway, along a windy road past a golf course and a growing residential area. It’s an odd place to put a hotel, but I had enough points for a free week, so I could not really complain. (But I did, just a wee bit)

The upside is that the hotel runs a complimentary shuttle from the hotel to Seven Mile Beach, Camana Bay, and the Cayman capital of Georgetown. The downside is the shuttle did not operate on Sundays.

We had lunch at the hotel restaurant and then took a taxi down to Seven Mile Beach near the Westin Hotel. The back of the hotel was hopping. There were people everywhere around the pool, at the majority of tables at the beachfront cafe and chairs around the bar, and spilling onto the beach to and into the water. It seemed this was the place to be. C noted all the kids frolicking nearby and turned her best pre-teen glare on me and petulantly asked me why we were not staying there. (Hint: The $800-a-night price tag was part of it) C jumped into the water. I took off my shoes and walked through the surf. It was really beautiful. But it did not take long for the searing bright sun and crescendo of the crowds to get to us. After an hour we sat down for a cold beverage and a snack at the restaurant and C conceded that the Westin was maybe not all that.

I did not want to get another expensive taxi back; I had planned for us to enjoy the late afternoon weather for a walk, but just as we got started we came across several electric scooters. C had never been on one, but it seemed a good enough time to try, especially given the winding road alongside the golf course had very little traffic. It took some time to get back and ended up costing twice as much as a taxi! But we had a fun time and a low-key first day.

On our second day, we had a lazy morning before catching the 10 AM hotel shuttle (the first of the day) to the main strip where we caught a bus heading to the northern end of the island where we could visit the Cayman Island Turtle Center. For such a developed island, the bus system is fairly regular and inexpensive; it cost 2 Cayman Islands dollars (about US$2.50), which was a far cry from the CI$30 (US$36) for the short taxi ride from the hotel to Seven Mile Beach the day before. The buses are like large mini buses similar to a small tourist bus. Ours dropped us off right in front of the Turtle Center in no time.

I had heard some mixed reviews on the Turtle Center. The Center is one of the top tourist spots in the Caymans though there are some that are concerned its conservation activities do not go far enough as they do farm some of the turtles for local meat and shell products. It is tricky, but if they did not do that then perhaps those who wanted those items would seek alternative ways to source the turtles if they could not buy them from the Center? The Caymans have a long history with turtles. When Christopher Columbus came across the uninhabited Caymans in 1503, he named them Las Tortugas (The Turtles) for the overabundance of turtles in the islands’ waters. Harvesting turtles was a mainstay of the economy for at least a hundred years and when the Islands became a self-governing territory in 1959, the turtle became a prominent part of their flag. I could see both sides.

C and I had a great day at the Turtle Center. They had an informative talk at the predator tank where they had a few nurse sharks, tarpon, barracuda, jacks, and other predatory fish. C also enjoyed hand-feeding some birds in the aviary. And then we had the great pleasure of snorkeling in the lagoon with the turtles.

This was only the second time she had ever snorkeled! And the first time had been in Lake Malawi with an ill-fitting mask when she was about 6 years old. But she snorkeled like a champ.

After turtle snorkeling, spending some time in the Center’s swimming pool, and then lunch, we decided to walk over to Hell.

Oh, the jokes are almost endless.

*We found it – Hell on Earth is inland on a beautiful Caribbean Island.*

But Hell is an actual place on Grand Cayman about a 15-minute walk from the Turtle Center. Walking allowed us to stop and take a photo at the crossroads to Hell Road. Indeed, the road to Hell is paved and yes, I was leading my 11-year-old there.

Hell is just a geological formation of black limestone in standing water. Though online it is described as “sinister,” it really is not. I would not want to be walking through it (one is not allowed) and it was hot, but it was more lovely than eerie. With our backs to the kitschy souvenir shop with its dress-up devil costumes and “Postcards from Hell,” the abandoned night club and Hell Post Office, and only the rock formations, birds, fish, and trees against the startling blue sky, we could have been far from civilization. I certainly would not plan a whole trip around a visit to Hell, but quick-ish stop is worth it. Mostly, as apparently, the Caymans and tourists alike say, so we can say we have been to Hell and back.

It was hot and we were not really looking forward to trekking back to the Turtle Center or onward to find the closest bus stop, but the only other visitors to Hell at the time, three jovial ladies from upstate New York with some challenges to driving on the left, offered us a lift back to Seven Mile Beach and in the end even took us straight back to the hotel.

*Boats gather at the Stingray City sandbar; C gets a pat on the back from a friendly stingray.*

The activity for Tuesday, our third day on Grand Cayman, was a visit to the island’s number one tourist attraction, the famous Stingray City. Stingray City is a shallow sandbar located in North Sound, a bowl-shaped lagoon cupped between Grand Cayman’s narrow peninsula to the west and the bulkier body of the island to the east and capped by a barrier reef, where stingrays have been gathering for years, reportedly first for fishermen’s catch and now for tourists’ handouts. In the clear three feet of water, tourists can stand as southern stingrays swim around and sometimes right up to them. I read that boats are limited per day and by the number of squid goodies that can be given. For the tasty squid, stingrays will eat from your hand, let you give them a kiss, and offer you a brief slap on the back.

C had initially been a little worried about getting in with these sea creatures, but once our boat pulled up and set anchor, she was ready to jump in. Though I had chosen a trip earlier in the day hoping there might be fewer visitors given that many cruise ship passengers would likely take the midday tour, it was rather crowded with several more boats pulling up just after us. Though it would probably have been a different, and possibly more magical experience without every Tom, Dick, and Harry vacationing in the Grand Cayman on Spring Break, our tour guides made sure that everyone who wanted a stingray interaction got one. It really was a unique experience that C and I will likely not forget.

Following Stingray City, the boat then headed to a reef for some snorkeling. C and I opted to wear floatation devices for safety, and I am glad we did so. First off, I wear some rather thick prescription lenses and when snorkeling with a tour company’s equipment, I do not see all that well. Second, this was only C’s third snorkeling experience and the first in the ocean. And finally, the wind was beginning to pick up and the seas were very choppy. While we heard others from our boat exclaiming about seeing a stingray, a lobster, and a barracuda, C and I just saw some fish and the reef. And that was perfectly fine for this particular day. After being pushed around by the waves for 15 minutes, we were more than ready to get back in the boat. Though we almost got aboard the wrong one! That is what happens when one is partially blind and so many look-alike boats are all gathered in one place.

We spent another low-key evening at the hotel attempting to order food from the Cayman Island’s version of Uber Eats. It was fine, really. It was a great start to the week. This is exactly what I wanted – a few fun things to do while also lots of lying around doing little to nothing.

December 2, 2022 by trs

Roume Island Adventure

*The Los Islands just off of Conakry & the pirogue that whisked us away on an adventure*

For Thanksgiving, another Embassy family (the D’s) invited C and I to join them for an overnight stay on the Ile de Roume or Roume Island. As a family of two that spends a lot of time overseas, we are not particularly traditional when it comes to the holiday and we had no other plans, so we welcomed the chance to spend time with friends while getting out of the city.

Roume Island (sometimes spelled Room) is the smallest of the three main islands of the Iles de Los archipelago, located just a few kilometers from Guinea’s capital. Conakry was initially established on the island of Tombo, one of the Ile de Los that is now connected to the Kaloum peninsula by a causeway. There is some interesting history to the islands. Their names are derived from early Portuguese navigators who called them Ilhas des Idolos (Islands of the Idols). The British controlled the islands from 1818 to 1904, when they were ceded to the French.

On Thursday morning, we followed the D family’s car to Le Petit Bateau marina in Kaloum. We were to take a boat to Roume at 10 AM, but we were clearly already on island time or Guinea time or perhaps Guinea Island Time, as we did not begin the 45 minute boat ride until 11:30. We landed on Roume at a quarter past noon, jumping into the calf high water to wade on to the shore and then walking five minutes across the narrowest part of the island to the Hotel Le Sogue.

Here we had basic bungalows perched on the hillside. C and I shared a room with both a single and double bed, though only the larger of the two had a mosquito net above it. We had a well-water fed shower where we could get a good trickle going, after they turned on the pump. Once the hotel managers turned on the electricity, we were able to use it for a single bulb in the bathroom, a small bedside lamp, an outlet to charge my phone, and an electric fan. The room reminded me of my backpacking days. Simple, but more than sufficient for one night at the beach.

Knowing it might take awhile to get lunch, we ordered just after our arrival. The menu, presented on a chalkboard, had 7 or 8 choices, but all but one included seafood, which C and I do not eat. No surprise of course given our location! Lucky for us they also had chicken. While waiting, the kids changed into their suits and went to play on the beach and in the surf. I went to sit on my balcony where I could read and listen to the waves. My fellow parents divided themselves between the beach and the restaurant veranda.

*A view of our bungalows at the Hotel Le Sogue*

I do not want to oversell the Hotel Le Sogue, its beach, or Roume Island. I have stayed at nicer places on nicer islands, including in Africa, such as the Blue Zebra or Mumbo Island in Malawi. Unfortunately, there was a fair amount of trash on the side of the island where we landed, both on the land and in the water, though the beach in front of the Hotel Le Sogue was clearly taken care of well. Yet as I sat on my porch looking out at beautiful palms and the wide expanse of sand and listened to the rhythmic rolling of the waves and the sounds of our kids laughing, I felt quite content.

We did not get lunch until 2:30 PM. No worries as by that time we were on island time too. We dined on our fish or chicken with chips and salad on tables in a sandy clearing surrounded by palms.

After lunch the kids and one parent headed back to the waves. I was pretty impressed that my very fair skinned daughter stayed out as long as she did in the water. I was even more impressed that we applied sunscreen in sufficient quantities that she did not get a sunburn.

I did not get in the water, choosing instead to spend some more time on my balcony reading or just walking along the beach. Truth be told, I am not exactly sure what kept be occupied from the time after lunch until dinner. There was no phone service or internet on the Le Sogue side of the island, so we were not connected. That though was the beauty. There is not a load of things to do in Conakry, but it is loud, crowded, chaotic. There is little to do on Ile de Roume, but it was an entirely different kind of little to do.

In the evening, after dark, we had our dinner together in the open-air restaurant. Easy conversation and laughs among friends. Unfortunately, the lights attracted insects, in particular, blister beetles. I have since read that the blister beetle is common in North America, but I had never heard of them until arriving in Guinea. Just a few weeks ago our Health Unit warned employees that the blister beetle season was upon us. Blister beetles secret a burning chemical when threatened or squeezed so we were warned to make sure not to indiscriminately slap at an insect but to brush it off, just in case it might be a blister beetle.

After a whole host of blister beetles made their appearance, we started to lose interest in remaining in the dining room. When one landed on my daughter’s hair, she screamed and cried, and that was it — time to retire to the rooms even though it was only a little after eight in the evening. I read some by the weak, flickering light in the room, then C and I went to sleep, sharing the one double bed so we could both cocoon ourselves in the mosquito net that hung limply from the ceiling (there was no mosquito net frame). However, I had trouble falling asleep as I kept imagining blister beetles crawling on me, sensing a sting. (Fun fact: I have since learned that the blisters and skin rash from a blister beetle’s secretion takes 24 to 48 hours to form. Guess what? We did get blister beetled! Ouch!)

*Roume Village Life: A painter puts the finishing touches on a mural; a village boy shows off his coup leader cum president t-shirt; get your goods at the Obama Shop Room*

The next day, after a lazy morning drinking in the mesmerizing rocking of the waves and chowing down on a breakfast of omelets and fresh fruit, myself, C, AD and her son AD2 opted to take a guided hike through the village and up one of the island’s hills for a view of the neighboring Tamara Island. We were well prepared for two days on a beach with our shorts and flip flops, but ill-prepared for any sort of hiking beyond a stroll. And by “we” I mean mostly me. I mean, we were all dressed more or less the same, but it was I who struggled the most.

We started with a short three minute walk to the other side of the island where the boat had landed, then we skirted past the other hotel, then along a rocky, but easy, trail to the village. For a small island a little more than 4 square miles, the village appeared remarkably well appointed with a good number of houses, shops, a school, a community center, and plenty of goats and chickens.

*The view of Roume Island from the top of the hill.*

Through the village we went and on the other side we tramped through a makeshift trash heap in a clearing and then began to ascend the hill. We followed a slight trail through the underbrush under palm trees. Already quite warm, the sweat began pouring down my face, trickling down my arms and legs. It did not take long for my t-shirt to become soaked through and my flip flops slick. As we passed the tree line and started up on boulders, I fell further and further behind. Although my flip flops had a good grip on the bottom, my feet were so slick with sweat that I could barely keep them on, especially when trying to climb on rocks. One of our guides, a young 20-something with a stutter, stayed with me the whole time, offering his hand to pull me up rock after rock and eventually offering me his flip flops, which were too large but less slippery.

At last we reached the top. I had honestly started to think I might not make it and it was very humbling. In all it had only taken 30 minutes, but it had felt longer. We spent some time enjoying the view and then began our climb down. I gave up on shoes entirely, having a much better purchase on the rocks in my bare feet, until we reached the grassland. We were all happy to arrive back at the Le Sogue hotel at noon, to either wash ourselves in water from a bucket filled the night before or jump into the sea.

By noon, our lunch should have been ready or nearing ready as we had ordered after breakfast because it had taken so long the day before. However, we were told around 1 PM that lunch was not being prepared as the boat bringing the supplies from the mainland had broken down. All they had were french fries, so that is what everyone had. Though originally the hotel scheduled our return boat at 4 PM, we asked to leave an hour earlier given that without lunch we would want to get back to Conakry sooner.

Though we were ready at 3 PM, the hotel staff only began to take our belongings to the boat at 3:30 and there we sat for on the small beach for an hour as first two men bailed out water from the boat and then until our last mystery guest arrived. We started our journey at 4:30 PM.

About 30 minutes into our journey, when we were halfway between Kassa Island and Conakry, the motor stopped. Initially, I thought it might be a joke, like the boat guys were having a bit of fun with us given the boat with our food from the mainland had also broken down. They were not. The motor had died. It seemed they had used the same boat and motor as the one that had stalled earlier in the day. We made the usual jokes about swimming to shore or flagging down a passing fisherman. It was very amusing at first. After 20 minutes it was a little less so as it was now after 5 PM and the sun was beginning its descent. The boat guys assured us they had called for assistance, that someone was on their way, but it was unclear when that person, if someone had even been called, would arrive.

*The boat guys try to restart the motor as the sun sets.*

My friend messaged the Embassy’s security officer just to let him know that we were adrift in Sangareya Bay. Not that he could do anything, but it felt good letting someone know. At least we had cell and data service so I could tell all my friends and family hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away that I was stranded on a boat in West Africa. The boat guys dropped anchor to keep us from floating further away and they kept trying to rope start the motor. It would sometimes start, almost catch, and then die away. After forty minutes (with no rescue boat in sight) the finally caught and we pulled up anchor and headed toward shore. We let the security officer we were on our way again.

We made it a few more minutes, just inside the harbor, when we broke down again. It took only 10 minutes to get it started again this time and it was at this point the rescue speed boat zipped up. As we were moving, the rescue boat just circled around us and left. Seriously, it left! If I were the driver of the rescue boat I might have hung around, followed the boat with the problematic motor until they got back to port. I guess that is not how things roll in Guinea. No surprise then when we broke down again.

Luckily our rescue boat was not too far away. We figured we would need to transfer to the smaller boat and he would zip us back, probably in two shifts. But no, instead he towed us. Somehow it worked and we made it back before sunset. We were all still in pretty good spirits, but I think that would have changed had we still been out on the water after dark. Our kids were gifted with a great story to wow their classmates with for years to come.

This should have been the end of the story. I wish it were. But we still had to drive home. I had never driven in the city after dark. Driving in Conakry is challenging even on days with little traffic and in bright daylight. Most roads have no lane markings. Most have potholes. More present conditions more like off roading, more dirt and mud than asphalt. Most motorcyclists, of which there are many, obey no laws.

*Just after we got off the boat they were, improbably (at least to me), loading it with supplies and taking on more passengers.*

Our planned route out from the port area was blocked. Apparently, after 6 PM the normally two way road becomes one way, and not the way we wanted to go. We were stopped for more than 10 minutes unable to move or turn around with a steady stream of semis driving towards us, inching past us. At last someone did a little traffic directing and we were able to turn around and try again as we bumped down several side streets until we reached the N1. Traffic was bumper to bumper and aggressive, as usual, and in the melee I lost track of our friends.

I though at first to follow the N1 down to the roundabout near the airport and then the T2 which would take us directly back to our apartment. Except the government is doing a massive construction project at the Bambeto traffic circle right by our apartment and I was not sure of the way anymore. I turned off the N1 and the GPS led me along dark, narrow, bumpy side streets. Had it been daylight I could have been in a Toyota RAV4 or Goodyear tire commercial demonstrating my all-terrain driving prowess. Motorcycles circled us like sharks, dodging and weaving in all directions.

At last we made it to Rue de Prince. I was not sure my next move as it also led to Bambeto Circle or what was left of it. I followed some rogue cars to the circle, an active construction site, and slowly squeezed my way down a makeshift path between the construction pit and shops while surrounded by motorcycles. It is absolutely amazing we were not hit by any of them. But to get back to my apartment I had to take a newly built detour road and as I turned to enter the one way road, a cement mixer roared out, going the wrong way, and stopped just inches from my car. Its grill was all I could see out of my windshield, it was that close. And I lost it. I leaned on my horn for what seemed like a minute yelling “Aaaaarrrrrrrreeeeeetttttt!!” Why French came to me at this moment when so often I am at a loss for French vocabulary, I do not know, but it seemed appropriate. The truck stopped. I was able to inch around it and then made the last short drive home inching along with more traffic. By this point my daughter is sobbing and I am cursing. It took us two hours to drive home a distance of 13 kilometers (8 miles).

Guinea sure knows how to deliver. I am well on my way to a gold medal in the Guinea Experiences Games. Get doused with blister beetle acid? Check. Get stranded on a boat off shore? Check. Narrowly miss getting pulverized by a truck driving the wrong way? Check. I never know what Guinea has in store for us next.

September 15, 2022 by trs

To Belgium and Beyond: Part Three

I awoke on my last full day without my kiddo in Vianden, Luxembourg. I took one final walk along the river and one last look at the castle on the hill before I headed back into Belgium.

With that one last solo day I figured it was best to head to where the name had become synonymous the world over with relaxation: Spa, Belgium.

Spa is an old, old town with lots of historic firsts and a UNESCO World Heritage designation to boot. Discovered by and used for mineral bathing by the Romans, Spa reportedly truly became a stopping of point for its curative waters from the 14th century. The world’s first casino opened in Spa in 1763 and the world’s first recorded beauty pageant was held there in 1888, won by an 18-year old Creole woman from Guadeloupe. In 2021, UNESCO recognized Spa and 10 other European towns for their historic value as Great Spa Towns of Europe.

Part of the designation centered on the other industries that built up around European spa towns like hotels, casinos, and beauty contests. In Spa, a postal system was set up in 1699 that allowed those lucky enough to be able to afford to travel and “take the waters” could then send letters and postcards to friends and family boasting of such.

*Spa — well known for its bottled water and for the leap frogging guy on the Spa water bottles*

At the Museum of the City of Waters, I learned that collectible items made in Spa became all the rage for visiting tourists. Hand hewn and painted decorative boxes or colorful delicate painted glassware sporting the name of the spa town were what 18th and 19th century tourists loved to bring home after being enticed by colorful tourist brochures.

My joint ticket also gave me entry to the Museum of Laundry. I had honestly expected little from this place but was pleasantly surprised at the amount of information and fascinating displays. An oft-ignored by-product of tourists and hotels is a proliferation in items needing laundered, from clothes to bed sheets to towels, and the people, usually women, who washed those items. The museum gives a history of laundering and the advances in technology that made washing and drying at least easier on the laundress (from washing machines and detergent to dryers and irons) if not more interesting. I ended up spending more than an hour there.

The big thing I was in town to do though was of course to soak in the waters of the Thermes de Spa, the facility for bathing in Spa’s thermal waters built in 1868 on a hill overlooking the town. My hotel helped me to make a booking to arrive at the spa at 6 PM where I would then have three hours to enjoy until closing. Unfortunately, right after I made my reservation and went to put on my suit I realized I had not packed it. Luckily though the bathing house sells inexpensive suits to silly tourists who forget theirs. Had I still been a backpacker watching my money carefully, this might have been a real dilemma, but I came to take the waters and I would do so even if it meant forking over more money.

I stayed about an hour and a half enjoying the large heated indoor pool, the heated outdoor pool, the sauna, and the Hammam. Just enough time to give those waters time to do some wonders.

*The Chateau Des Comtes D’Ursel and narrow streets of the medieval town*

The following morning I had one last hour-long stroll around Spa before saying goodbye. I needed to be at the Euro Space Center by 3 PM for a camper presentation, so I thought I would break up the hour and a half drive with a stop in Durbuy, Belgium’s smallest incorporated town.

Durbuy was once a thriving medieval village on the Ourthe River at the crossroads of commerce. Today it is a very small, very walkable historic town chock full of character. It is dominated by the Chateau Des Comtes D’Ursel (unfortunately closed to the public), which stands alongside the river and bridge. Though the current castle is 18th century design, records indicate a castle stood there since at least the 11th century. The little warren of cobblestone streets adjacent to the castle are full of restaurants, bars, stores, and homes of stone and timber. I was kicking myself for not having more time here. Durbuy warranted an overnight stay so I had the time to slowly explore, especially after most of the tourists departed. Unfortunately, I just didn’t have the time. I had lunch and then headed to pick up C from space camp.

After five nights apart, I felt absolutely giddy to arrive at the Euro Space Center auditorium to see my daughter at the presentation of graduation certificates. She was sitting front row right next to the doors as I came in, huddled together with the other American girl with whom she shared a dorm. C did not want to leave. I had wondered how she might handle five nights away at an unfamiliar place; five nights is the longest we have ever been apart but previously she was at her dad’s or my sister’s. I need not have worried; she told me she could have done another week.

We drove back to Brussels, returning the car at the airport and then taking the train to our city center hotel. C did not understand why I gave up the car, but, as I tried to explain, we had no use for it in the capital. I had very much enjoyed the freedom the car had given me to drive from town to town, but there had also been challenges on narrow old town streets, with parking, and when the GPS failed as I drove from Vianden to Spa.

We had three additional days in Brussels before our return to Guinea. On our first day, we walked from our hotel near the Brussels North train station to the Royal Palace. Like the Grand Ducal Palace of Luxembourg, the Belgium Royal Palace is open to the public just once a year, six days a week for six weeks between mid July and September. Unlike the Grand Ducal Palace no guided tour is required and photographs are allowed. We did need to buy timed tickets but after arriving and going through security we were able to walk through at our own pace. That certainly worked better for C and I; I am pretty sure my daughter would not have enjoyed the German guided tour one bit.

After the palace visit we walked, meandering through Brussels Park, past the St. Michel and St. Gudula Cathedral, and back to the Great Square. We had lucked out to be in town and get tickets to see the Royal Palace but also it turned out that weekend was the festival for the Flower Carpet, held only the the three days on the weekend around Assumption Day, every other year. I do not know what the crowds are normally like, but I was surprised that as many people as there were on the Great Square, we could still easily walk get to the cordoned rope to have a view. We also easily bought tickets to the Brussels City Museum (which is very interesting in its own right!) with a balcony surcharge so that we could view the flower carpet from the third floor.

On our second to last day we visited the Magritte Museum, again putting in the steps on foot. I am a fan of surrealism and the museum was top notch. What surprised me though was how much C enjoyed it. I had paid to get audio tours and selected the one for teens for C but she wanted more information than that was giving her and she asked to take mine. I didn’t get it back. From the museum we walked a little ways to have Thai for lunch and then rode “The View” an observation wheel near the Palace of Justice. Our route back to our hotel took us past key comic murals around the center of town.

*C finds a friend at the Comics Art Museum*

Belgium has embraced comics so it was perhaps little surprise that we found more than a few stores catering to Japanese anime fans. My daughter C is one! This added to the high marks that C gave Brussels as the trifecta of waffles, fries, and anime was too much to ignore. We spent our last morning at the Comics Art Museum where we learned about the art of comics and animation. The most famous Belgian comics characters are probably the Smurfs and Tintin, that have a worldwide audience, but there is an incredibly rich culture of Belgian comics beyond these.

That afternoon we headed back to the area around the Magritte Museum and the Royal Palace to meet friends of ours from our Shanghai days. RG and BG are a Foreign Commercial Service family and their daughter OG had been in C’s preschool class in China. Though the girls only vaguely remembered each other when we first met for drinks, several hours later they were playing together as if no time had passed. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful trip — a reminder of the amazing connections we can make in this lifestyle despite our nomadic lives.

As we headed back to Guinea the following day, it was with a renewed sense of excitement for our new post. The first six weeks had been a rather challenging whirlwind and I am not going to lie that it was more than a little hard to leave behind the order and conveniences of Europe, but when our plane touched down in Conakry that evening I felt glad to be there. We were home.

September 13, 2022 by trs

To Belgium and Beyond: Part Two

I sat in the Euro Space Center parking lot for a few beats after dropping C off at space camp. It reminded me of when I took her to her first drop-off-and-depart birthday party. At first I did not know what to do with myself. This time, however, that period of confusion lasted much less time. I did know what I was doing. I set my GPS directions, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed to Luxembourg City. I was on a mission.

*View of old Luxembourg from the Pont du Grund*

In 1998, when I was living in the western part of Japan, I took a vacation to visit my aunt and uncle in Frankfurt, Germany. We decided to take a multi-day driving trip to Luxembourg City along the Moselle River. My uncle was behind the wheel as we meandered along with the river, through small riverside towns. We stopped frequently for castles and wineries (for my aunt and uncle, not me) and other beautiful vistas. We made a lot of private family jokes along the way that my aunt and I still rehash again and again. Like when we left the fried camembert from lunch in the car overnight outside the B&B and the car stunk to high heaven the next day. Or when we visited Trier and my uncle and I lay in wait from my aunt as she came out of McDonald’s so we could cluck our disapproval. You really had to be there. On the third day we drove into Luxembourg. I had long been awaiting this, to walk the 1000 year old streets of the old town. But what did we do? We had dinner, went to bed, and the next day we went to the Villeroy and Boch Outlet Factory to get some replacement porcelain pieces for my aunt’s dinnerware set. Then drove back to Frankfurt. That never sat well with me (though my aunt and I laugh about it), so here I was, 24 years later, to right that wrong.

I was a bit nervous as I approached the capital. I had been okay driving out of the Brussels airport and on to highways and to small towns, but here I was about to enter a major European City. On Google Maps it seems simple and straightforward enough, but I could see the one way streets here and there and anticipated there could be a problem. There was. Google Maps kept directing me down a pedestrian street. I drove past it the first time, but on my second go turned in thinking, maybe it isn’t actually pedestrian only? Except it ended in a sidewalk café. My three point turn in front of diners felt more like a ten point turn in slow motion with everyone staring at me. I pulled over in front of a shop shuttered for the evening, as if I were just there to conduct some business that I had every right to be parked on a pedestrian street in Luxembourg to do, so that I could call the hotel. As I drove around, the friendly hotel receptionist Yves gave me directions. I was still required to drive up that pedestrian-only street, just from the opposite direction, and then park briefly in front of the hotel for check-in. After check-in Yves told me, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “And now we will park, which is an adventure in and of itself.”

*The lovely Hotel Beaux Parc Arts – I briefly parked right there, on the pedestrian street, in front of those chairs, so I could check-in*

He was not kidding. I got back in my car and made another 3-5 point turn on the pedestrian street, trying to avoid the low pillars blocking the area in front of the adjacent museum, the couple on the park bench, and people just strolling by, and then followed Yves, who was on foot, about 50 meters away. There he put in the code on a key pad on the side of a building and he motioned me to drive into an elevator. Yes, an elevator for cars. One floor down I drove out and met Yves who directed me to park the car into a grooved walkway on a circular panel in the floor. I did so and then exited the vehicle. “You have the parking brake on, right?” Yves asked. “I think so,” I answered, “It’s a rental and rather a new model, so I think that is what this symbol means.” “Ah, yes,” Yves replied, “these new cars make the parking automatic. We need the brake on or it will be catastrophic.” And with that ominous prediction, he had me fold in the side mirrors, and leave the car. Yves then pushed some more codes into another wall panel. Glass doors sealed around the circle and then the car spun around, lifted up slowly, and then the floor dropped out and the car disappeared. Underground apparently it is sorted into small car slots by a robot. I imagine its a bit the vinyl Matchbox car container I had as a kid, just on a really grand scale. And there my rental sat for three days, nice and safe. I had dropped C off only two hours before and I had already had these adventures in driving and parking!

I stayed at the beautiful Hotel Parc Beaux Arts, located smack dab in the middle of the old city, not even 600 feet from the gates of the Grand Ducal Palace. The building dates back to the 15th century and some parts of the stone work are original. I lucked out with the only room to have a loft, with the king bed located on a partial second floor. I loved it.

*In Luxembourg, even the statues are having a good time*

After getting settled in, I set out to explore the city on foot. Here I was walking in the UNESCO World Heritage town, parts of which are more than 1000 years old. I meandered past the Grand Ducal Palace and over to the Place d’Armes. I decided to find a place for dinner and headed over to a Mexican place I found online. Unfortunately, it was Sunday, and already closing in on 9 PM, so the kitchen was closed. I had forgotten how late the sun goes down during a northern European summer. I Googled “best burger in Luxembourg” and found another place just about five minutes walk away. I had a nice, very late dinner, there, at a little table on the sidewalk, having the best burger in town, reveling in the fact that I was on my own in Europe for the first time in a very, very long time.

The next day, I went to the tourist information center to find out about tours of the palace and the casements. The casements, a network of subterranean tunnels built into the promontory rock of the old town, are one of the main tourist activities in the city. Unfortunately for me, the Bock Casements were closed for renovations and tours of the Petrusse casements were sold out until a week after I would depart. The Grand Ducal Palace, the official residence of the Grand Duke of Luxembourg, is only open for tours one month each year, excluding weekends. All the English tours were sold out. I thought, maybe I can muddle through with French? But no, I did not even get a chance to try as those tours too were sold out. There were only a few slots available in German. I had to take it or not get to go.

*View of the Bock Casements (denied to me!) from the Alzette River in the lower town*

With my tour set up, I decided to just sightsee on my own. I signed up for a little tourist train to give me an overview of the historic town. The train was a little silly, I did not get too much from the commentary, but it did take me from the upper town to the lower, across the river, up the Rham Plateau, and back. The tourist train gave me the lay of the land and as soon as I returned to the start I then began exploring on foot. I walked and walked and walked. I absolutely love to walk and I miss taking long ones. My daughter is less keen. It was easy enough when she was still in a stroller; I walked a lot in Shanghai that way. But now she is older and she complains a lot. “Where are we going?” “How much longer?” “Are we there yet?” “Why do we have to walk?” I could walk just for walking sake in Luxembourg, without a real destination in mind, not knowing when I might stop and rest or turn back. It sure felt good.

At a quarter to 10 AM on my second full day, my last in Luxembourg City, I headed to the Place Guillaume II, the central square, to meet my tour group for the Grand Ducal Palace. My German tour. I speak a total of maybe 25 words of German, a combination of very basic greetings, numbers, foods, WWII war battle vocabulary, and cursing. Yet, the only way I was going to get a tour of the palace during this trip was to sign up for the German tour. I was not the only person with this idea as there was also a group of six Brazilians who appeared as clueless as I.

*Funny faces groaning at spitting out water for eternity at the fountain outside Luxembourg’s Notre Dame Cathedral*

This was not the first time I had signed up for a tour in a language I did not speak in order to get in to some place. I recalled when I signed up for a tour in Polish in Malbork castle or the two day French and German tour in Tunisia or the Serbian tour of the Royal Compound in Belgrade (I have yet to put this story onto the blog). At one point I asked another tourist if they spoke English and she clucked her tongue in disappointment as she noted, “Do you really speak no German? That is a pity. This is a really good tour and she is giving lots of information.”

Perhaps it was a pity. But my choices were a tour in German, a tour in Luxembourgish, or no tour at all. I figured German was my best bet. And I still had my eyes. I could drink in the ornate furnishings and decor, gawk at the luxurious though overstuffed rooms, and wonder at the Grand Duke’s family’s passion for very large chandeliers. No photographs were allowed so I had to pay extra attention.

After my tour I opted for a Thai lunch (as I was trying to eat all the foods while I was able), and then resumed my walking until I could not walk anymore style of touring. I headed to the Pfaffenthal Panoramic Elevator that would take me, for free, from the High City to the Pfaffenthal quarter in the valley below, then walked to the 17th century Vauban Towers, up to Fort Obergrunewald (also built by Vauban), then through the gates beneath the Bock Casements, across the Alzette River, to Neumunster Abbey, then beneath La Passerelle, a 19th century vaulted aqueduct bridge, along the Petrusse River, til I climbed back up the High City at the Petrusse casements and Gelle Fra War Memorial, crossed the Adolphe Bridge and back, on to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, then back to my hotel. The weather was perfect and the walk was glorious. I finished up with a sampling of chocolates from The Chocolate House, located by the gates of the Grand Ducal Palace.

The following day I checked out of the hotel and retrieved my rental car from the depths of the mechanical parking garage and headed out of the city.

*The beauty of Echternach – the Orangerie, the town square, and Abbey’s Basilica of St. Willibrord*

It was only a 30 minute drive northeast from the bustling center of old Luxembourg the oldest town in the country on the border with Germany. Echternach grew up around the Benedictine abbey founded in the year 698. The current abbey has been built and rebuilt many times over the centuries, though parts of the original remain and the tomb of the abbey’s founder, Saint Willibrord, is inside. The Orangerie, part of the Abbey’s gardens, was established in 1736. It is currently used as a school and not open to the public. It turned out I was there during the monthly Wednesday market, so the town’s historic square was full of modern-day merchants. Initially, I found myself somewhat annoyed — I had wanted to really see the square and the buildings surrounding it, and instead I saw food trucks and white tents. I thought though, that there had probably been markets on that square or nearby for near on 1000 years. So, I walked around the town and had lunch, basically waited the market out, so I could catch a glimpse of it less crowded before I left.

From Echternach I drove another 30 minutes north to the town of Vianden. I had wanted to drive entirely in Luxembourg but eventually gave in to the GPS and I ended up crossing the Saeur River into Germany for at least half the trip.

I pulled into Vianden around 2 o’clock in the afternoon and after working out the parking (which just doesn’t seem straightforward in any European town) and getting into my room, I headed out soon to see Vianden Castle.

Vianden’s castle stands high on a steep hillside overlooking the Our River and the town. Once considered by UNESCO for inscription (but for some reason denied in 2013 – though the UNESCO plaque at the entrance tells nothing of its denial) it is still an outstanding fortress. The famous French writer Victor Hugo stayed four times in Vianden during his exile and reportedly found the castle “magnificent.” In 2019, CNN listed the castle as one of the 21 most beautiful castles in the world.

*View of Vianden (the castle and town) from the upper chairlift station; Bust of Victor Hugo by Auguste Rodin at Vianden’s bridge*

To get there, I walked. It was not far from the hotel where I stayed across the river, but to get there one has to head up a steep incline making it take longer than Google Maps would have you believe. Plus, I found lots to stop and admire along the way. I had little doubt that my daughter would not have been a fan. I am 100% sure she would have asked why we didn’t just drive up (which you can certainly do). But I was grateful for the opportunity to work my legs.

I spent probably an hour and a half in the castle. It was going on 5:15 when I looked out from the castle ramparts to see what looked like folks on an adjacent hill in the distance. I discovered there was a chairlift where I could probably have an amazing view of the castle. I checked online and found it was open until 6:30, with the last ride up at 6 PM, and if I walked quickly I could get there in about 15 minutes from the castle parking lot. I was going to go for it!

Had I been with my daughter I am not sure I would have made it. I had already been walking for hours that day — around Echternach, through Vianden, up to the castle, around the castle, and now I was going to speed walk my way to the chairlift station down the hill and across the river. I did make it though. The chairlift was a wee bit scary, but the views were worth it. I only stayed up top for the 15 minutes I had to make the last trip down. Then I could meander slowly back to my hotel where I savored a delicious meal finished off with a popular Belgian dessert — La Dame Blanche (vanilla ice cream topped off with dark chocolate syrup). A fitting reminder that the following day I would return to Belgium.

The Wanderlust Diaries

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