Tanzania 2, the Safaris

Now, this is Africa, in all of its glory. We left Moshi, Tanzania in a large Land-Rover, packed to the rafters, if you can say such a thing about a vehicle. We headed west, along the northern portion of Tanzania, stopping at several of its national parks along the way.

Tanzania is big, and the distances to get from place to place are long. We drove through numerous small towns, with roadside shacks/houses, called dukas, all selling the same few products: lots of bananas, cell phones and clothing. The last were some of our favorites, as each store had a sewing machine, usually set up outside. People pick out their fabric and have dresses made on the street. In the town of Moshi, there must have been 30 different dress/suit vendors, sewing away.

We passed many Maasai villages as well. The Maasai tribe has resisted change and remains a largely nomadic, cattle based culture, living the way their ancestors have for centuries. Their villages are little more than a small circular hedge with somewhere around a dozen huts—mud with thatched roofs, no windows, no water, no electricity—arranged around the perimeter. The Maasai are a very angular, stately looking people, with regal red and purple blankets draped over one shoulder. The men always carry a stick or spear in their hands. We saw Maasai children as young as 6 years old tending herds of goat by the roadside with their requisite stick in their hands. I imagine their children are a bit more mature than those from our culture! I don’t know many kindergarten-aged children I would trust by the side of a highway, caring for my life savings…

And segueing into the where in the world are Ethan and Siena, this gorge is known for truly ancient man. This is where the oldest known footprints of homonids (not considered homo sapiens yet—but the term “homonid” includes other evolutionarily close species) were found, over 3.6 million years ago. Their feet look very similar to our own. From discoveries made here, scientists have determined that two separate species of homonids existed contemporaneously (word of the day). The one with the larger brain ended up vanishing, and we evolved from the other (this explains a lot about man, doesn’t it?). This is Olduvai Gorge (actually called Oldupai Gorge, for the Maasai word for sisal “oldupai”, but mistranslated generations ago).

The first evening we stayed on the western escarpment of the Great Rift Valley. And, we were really on the escarpment. Our “lodge” (in quotes because it is nothing more than rooms in a house with common bathrooms) was on a promontory. There was an absolutely vertical drop down to the valley floor below us on two sides that must have been 400 meters high.

It overlooked Lake Manyara National Park, where we get our first taste of a safari with an evening drive and a dawn drive through the park. If you’ve never been to this part of the world, it is unbelievable. We saw an amazing assortment of animals, incredibly close. I like this picture of a near encounter with a male elephant.

We continued our westward trip to the Serengeti where we were treated to the spectacle of the annual migration. We had heard of the wildebeest migration, when almost a million of these large hoofed animals journey from Kenya to Tanzania and back in search of the best grazing land. What we hadn’t been prepared for was the zebras, African buffalo and various antelope/gazelle type animals also migrating. We must have driven though herds of 30,000 zebras. Zebras as far as your eyes could see in all directions. The zebra herd would part as our jeep approached, and close back around behind us. Each animal has a unique striping, although we had to take our guide’s word for this, as they all looked the same to us—gorgeous, but the same. We saw herds of 20,000 wildebeest. The wildebeest tend to stay close to either the zebra or the gazelle as they themselves are very nearsighted. They look nearsighted, don’t they? The other animals have much better eyesight and thus serve to warn the wildebeest if danger approaches. I gather the wildebeest offer the other species strength in their horns as well as in their numbers. The power of this number of animals was staggering. When a portion would start to run, the rumbling of the ground and the dust raised left us speechless (and coughing from the dust).

We camped most nights, and lying in your tent, listening to the sound of animals outside is an experience. Kim woke me one night with, “There’s something out there. I think it is a lion.” Staying asleep through this period would have been wonderful. We have no idea if it was actually a lion (we did not open the tent to check). I sure wasn’t heading over to the bathrooms in the night! On Christmas night, we tried to find a phone to call our families. After many miles and several failed attempts, we were blocked from returning to our campsite by 2 male lions walking in the road. At first, there was just one lion. I, completely unaware of any danger, unrolled my window and leaned out to get a good picture of this large cat, walking sedately down the road. The second lion walked by, close enough for me to pet, if I was so inclined. Luckily, it wasn’t a fatal error. The window was kept up for the rest of the encounter.

Now that we are back to normal altitudes (and don’t have to worry about going out with the wild beasts in the night for a bathroom run) we have been enjoying the beer in Tanzania. The Beattie Beer Index scores very high for this country. We’ve tried 4 different, local beers: Serengeti, Tusker, Kilimanjaro and Safari. They are all good, and differ from each other as to strength and sweetness. The three of us (Ethan and Siena did not partake in the taste trials) all liked a separate one best. And the prices were super: $1.50 in a restaurant for a half liter. Moreover, the labels were fabulous. Our favorite label was Tusker: “named after the elephant who killed one of the founders.” You just can’t make this stuff up! We said goodbye to Ross in Moshi, as we head off to Zanzibar and he returns to Michigan and college. Happy New Year to all of you!

Hakuna Matata! (no worries, in Swahili)
The Beatties

Kilimanjaro--pictures coming shortly...

We flew to Tanzania and met up with Ross! Even though he must have been jet lagged, because of the shortness of our stay, we arranged to start our climb the next morning. Which turned out to be mid afternoon. Hakuna matata (no worries, in Swahili).



where in the world are Ethan and Siena? They are in front of the highest mountain in Africa. Rising 5895 meters, this is the highest place you can stand in the world without oxygen. I understand this is because it is so close to the equator, and the atmosphere is thicker here. It is also one of the largest volcanoes in the world. This is Kilimanjaro.

With 15 porters, 3 cooks and 4 guides, our small party set off into the rainforest. I felt a little like those images of the British royalty going for a picnic. The first day was a steady climb, with a gradual grade, for about 5 hours. The scenery was beautiful. Kim took pictures of every flower growing in the jungle, but we still made it in time for tea in our mess tent. The first night we were very pleasantly surprised by the wonderful dinner, which was thankfully to be true for the entire trip.

We stayed in tents for the entire trip, and each night grew colder, as we ascended the mountain. Days varied from 3 hours of hiking to 11 hours on the second to last day. We had beautiful weather and unbelievable scenery. We climbed from cultivated land, through the rainforest, to the moorlands (which looked a lot like Scotland), into the alpine desert (which resembled our southwestern U.S. states) and finally into the arctic region near the summit. At times, it seemed as though we were hiking through the mountains on Mars.

There were many other groups, similar to ours, except no other children. We made friends with 4 men from Finland, a couple from Canada and another from Denmark. The final day of ascent, we were awoken at 11 p.m. and started our climb by midnight. It was cold, windy and steep!

Siena started to have symptoms of hypothermia (laying her head on a stone and saying she just wanted to take a short nap was troubling) at 5 a.m. and she and I headed back, but Ross, Ethan and Kim made it! The three Beattie men stood on the roof of Africa and watched the sunrise over Tanzania. It was an amazing experience for all, and especially for Kim, who had been dreaming of this for almost 20 years.



Best wishes to all of you and my apologies at how long it has been without a post--no fast enough internet, I am afraid!



Merisha Merafu! Cheers, in Swahili

The Beattie Clan

Egypt III, then Egypt II

We took a hydrofoil from the east coast of Egypt (skip it--over built and ugly) to Sharm El Sheckh, on the southernmost tip of the Sinai Peninsula. Also, should be missed--except for diving in the Red Sea which was awesome. The most noteworthy site in the Sinai was this. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? They are at the top of a mountain. It is not the highest mountain in Egypt, but is famous nonetheless. This is where Moses received the Ten Commandments, where he heard the voice of God in the burning bush: Mount Sinai . We hiked up in the afternoon, watched sunset over the desert and mountains and hiked down by the light of the full moon. Awesome. Kind of weird being here. I mean it is in the middle of nowhere, but we went through something like 5 check points, where they stopped the car and checked all of our passports, with guys with machine guns at the ready. Hope all is well with all of you! We are off to Tanzania next.

Ma'a Salaama (Goodbye, in Arabic)
The Beatties

We leave Cairo and fly south, to Aswan, in Upper Egypt. It is hard to get used to this description initially, as we are accustomed to North being Up, and South being Down. So, Where in the World are Ethan and Siena? This is the longest river in the world, snaking through an amazing 10 countries before widening into a broad delta to empty into the Mediterranean Sea. This is Upper Egypt because this river flows from South to North. It used to flood every year, providing passive irrigation, but, because of the unknowns of when and how high the floods would be, creating great uncertainty and, occasionally, some devastating famines. The river was home to the world’s first great civilization. This is the mother of all rivers: The Nile.

It is bizarre seeing Egypt from the air. It looks just like the map of the country. There is beige desert as far as you can see, except for this narrow strip of green, following the river. It isn’t like there is a gradual transition. You could draw the line with a ruler for the demarcation between the green of the river valley and where the desert starts. Bam, you are in the desert!

In 1902, the British built a dam taming the river. A second dam, the Aswan High Dam, was built in 1971 as the old dam wasn’t large enough to handle to unpredictable annual flooding. The hydroelectric plant here produces enough energy to provide power for the entire country. In fact, when originally built, Egypt used 80% of the electricity. Today, they only use 20% of its power. The rest of their electricity comes from solar panels. We have no problem believing this as we haven’t seen a cloud in the sky for the week we’ve been here. The rest of the electricity generated here is sent to neighboring countries. How wonderful that all of the electricity in the country is from clean and renewable sources.

In Aswan, we begin to see the amazing temples the ancient Egyptians built along the course of the river. The sites chosen are beautiful. The work to build these enormous monuments with nothing but hand tools and lots of laborers is incomprehensible. How could they move these stones? How could they lift them to such heights?

We board a boat, a sort of floating hotel, with about a hundred other passengers. Most of the passengers are French, although a Polish group comes aboard the next day. We are seated with 2 British brothers who are studying Arabic in Cairo, two couples, one from Saudi Arabia and one from Moscow, both vacationing in Egypt, and a musician from Brooklyn, traveling around the world as we are. There is some logic to the seating arrangement as we are the only English speakers on board. Since we take all our meals together and tour all of the sites together with an English-speaking guide, we become fast friends in a short period of time.

In addition to temples, we tour several tombs. Concerned with the looting that had already occurred in the pyramids to the north, the later pharaohs built elaborate underground tombs. They were mistaken to think this would make them impossible to find. All of the tombs were looted. King Tut’s was, too, but they think the robbers must have been in a hurry so they didn’t take everything. We learn that the tombs are different depths related to how long the pharaoh ruled. The tomb was started on the day after the coronation, and the tomb couldn’t be completed until after the king died—otherwise it was considered bad luck. The longer the reign, the deeper the tomb. The builders had a bit of wiggle room as it took 70 days to mummify the body.

Here is one of our favorite temples, the ancient temple of Karnak in Luxor. The temple complex is larger than St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican and St Paul’s in London put together. This hall is unique in the world. There are 134 of these pillars, each about 8 foot in diameter, and 60 feet high. It felt like we were standing in an artificial redwood forest.

Last blog I wrote of the crazy drivers. Unfortunately, on the day I wrote that, one of our British friends, Muneeb, was hit by a passing bus. Siena and I experienced both the medical system and the police system in Egypt in one evening. The hospital was efficient and relatively inexpensive (at least for me, coming from a country with a for-profit health care system). The police kept wanting me to “accuse” someone. I didn’t understand why. The word “accident” means it wasn’t intentional, right? We are delighted that, despite a broken foot, Muneeb is otherwise fine. This picture was taken earlier in the day. He sure wasn’t climbing up to the top of the Valley of the Kings in a cast with crutches…

In the rest of the world we have visited, a price is a price. Costs are more or less fixed. Here, the price is whatever the market (read: sucker) will bear. We bought a hat at the market, very proud of ourselves from getting the price down from 125 gineah (Egyptian pounds) to 40, only to have an Arabic speaking friend buy the same hat from a different vendor for 20 gineah. We did better than my father in Turkey, though, where he bought a small bag of chestnuts for 10 Euro (15 dollars, at the time of purchase). I believe it amounted to a buck fifty for each chestnut. And, they didn’t even taste good. In Egypt, it is definitely Caveat Emptor—Buyer Beware!

There are many places in the world where I can blend in, look like a local. Kim has fewer such countries. Here, no matter if we learn the correct pronunciation of the handful of phrases we’ve learned, we stick out like foreigners wearing Hawaiian print shirts and cameras around our necks. The Egyptian people are very friendly, and want to try their English phrases on us. “Hello, what’s your name? Where are you from?” We frequently have our pictures taken, sometimes with a stranger’s arm draped around our shoulders, sometimes in a crowd of children. The local children are very interested in our children, and we joke that our Frisbee is the best ambassador/icebreaker ever.

Itsa Eid (Happy Eid in Arabic)

How can you help being happy with sunsets like this over the Nile?? Taken, I must add, by Ethan!

The Beatties

Egypt part I

Well, I have just experienced my first encounter with censorship! There are sites that are blocked from having images uploaded in Egypt, and that, I think, is why I have been unable to put pictures to the words. But, as I am still technically in Egypt (through passport and immigration, but haven't boarded the plane yet), and the pictures are going through, maybe I am mistaken.

This is an easy "Where in the World are Ethan and Siena" as I am sure you will recognize the location. The huge sculpture was carved from the granite bedrock of the land, after the sand covering it was removed. It was meant to guard and protect the Great Pyramids behind it. This is the Sphinx. It is not a tomb, nor a temple, but a figure with the face of a man, the hair of a woman, and the body of a lion. This was supposed to give the creature brains, beauty and power, respectively. These were built in 2000 B.C., or, to use the vernacular, B.C.E. Hard to fathom, but this is not the oldest sites around. We arrive here using the same mode of travel as that used during the building of the Pyramids—camel. Riding a camel is, shall we say, interesting. They are quite tall, and to mount and dismount, the camel kneels down to make this easier. Unfortunately, the process of getting down and up is a bit like being on a mechanical bull. The animal pitches forward, then backwards. And then there are the sounds the camels make. They sound like Chewbacca from Star Wars, when he’s angry about something. The pyramids and the Sphinx are very close to the capitol of Egypt, Cairo.

Cairo is another world. We are fortunate to be met by a person from our hotel, who guides us through the throngs at the airport and delivers us safely to the front of the hotel. I have driven or been in the traffic of many cities. I have no problem driving in New York or Boston, have driven in London and around Paris, and taken taxis in various urban settings. But, I was completely unprepared for Cairo.
Image, if you will, a road 3 lanes wide in each direction. There are perhaps 100 cars attempting to be the first through the 3 lanes. With at least 6 cars squeezed into the width of the road, all accelerating into any gap, it is amazing we didn’t see any major accidents. On our first day, our driver was threading his way between the center median, and a police officer who had stopped a driver to write up a ticket. I thought there couldn’t possibly be enough room, but who am I to interrupt an artist? We clipped the cop in the backside with the side view mirror on our way by. The driver waved, but never so much as took his foot off the accelerator.
We are told most Egyptians speak 3 languages: Arabic, English and the first and most important language: the horn. You would think the cars’ accelerators were attached to the center of the steering wheel. At all hours of the day, the sound of various horns are everywhere.
We have problems regarding the other languages, too. As we looked at the signs, we realized, even if we had wanted to, there is no way we could drive here. Hungarian was hard to understand, and Russian and Greek used different alphabets, but Arabic doesn’t even look like letters to us.
To people from the U.S., Europe is old. But to Europeans, Egypt is old. Egypt blows our ideas of old away. We go to the oldest pyramids, in Saqqara. These are from the Old Kingdom, from 3000B.C. In the temples, the colors are still vivid. We learn that is because the "paint" was made from ground up stones, which were combined with egg white and glue before being applied to the artwork adorning the walls. We tour the Egyptian Museum, which is filled with artifacts from various tombs and temples, including much that was unearthed in King Tut’s.
It is truly foreign here. The people are all very nice, and many want to practice their English with us. There is a constant barrage of touts—people asking for us to buy things, to take cab rides, to stay in their hotel or buy water from them. The men dress either in Western style clothing, or in traditional dress, about 50% each, but the women almost all wear the traditional Islamic clothing, with long skirts and head scarves. We really look like tourists here. Which segues nicely into the reason it is hard to keep up the Beattie Beer Index. Our hotel does not serve alcohol. Most restaurants do not, nor is it sold in the small markets where we buy our bottled water. The larger tourist hotels have no problem selling it, though, and we sample both Sahara and Stella beers. We both like the former better, although both are a bit light for our normal tastes, this tastes good after being in the heat of the desert.. If the price of beer purchased at a resort counts, then we report an average of 15 Egyptian Pounds, or $3.

Sucaret! To Your Health, in Arabic
The Beatties

Paris

We finish up our European portion of the trip with a week in the City of Lights. Paris has it all. Spectacular monuments, some of the world’s best museums, huge parks, small neighborhoods to wander around, a beautiful river running through it, and fabulous food. We have heard that the French, but especially the Parisians are unwelcoming. We do not find that at all. The people are warm, and friendly, and very funny. And, they speak with that fabulous French accent. “Take zeese street, and zen you turn over zare.” That, with the croissants, is enough to make me want to move here. Kim, the realist, explains we cannot afford to do so.

So, in this glorious city, where have we chosen to do our Where in the World are Ethan and Siena? This is the heart and soul of Paris. In fact, it is considered to be the center of France. All distances in the country used to be measured to a small plaque on the plaza out front. It is a beautiful cathedral, with flying buttresses circling the church, and the most beautiful rose windows. People would pray here before leaving on crusades to pillage far off lands. Napoleon famously yanked the crown off the King’s head here and crowned himself emperor. Gargoyles leer out from all corners. And, according to Victor Hugo, a hunchback rang the bells. This is Notre Dame and it is glorious. We even are able to hear the 7800 pipe organ played during mass.

My brother, Bruce, and his family, Susan, Natalia and Conrad, meet us in Paris. We have a fabulous, 3 bedroom apartment in the heart of the city. The kids play soccer in every conceivable location: at the Tulleries, around Luxemborg Gardens, in the courtyard of the Louvre, even in the Rodin Museum sculpture garden. Rest assured, The Thinker still has both arms, unlike those other famous Parisian statues of Venus de Milo and Winged Victory…Once, while playing soccer in the Place de Vosges, we strike up a conversation with another woman. Debbie recognizes me from a science program in California we attended together 27 years ago. It is an amazing world. So big, but so small.

We have so interesting experiences here. As it is Thanksgiving Day, we feel the need to watch football. Natalia, Ethan, Kim and I attend a wild game, with some truly crazy fans. Kim makes the mistake of getting his hair cut on Montmartre. He considers himself lucky, despite the less than great end result, when we learn that the martyr for whom this mont is named, lost his head, not just his hair!

The site that wowed us all was the Eiffel Tower. Of course, it is the quintessential image of Paris, but it is hard to convey the grace and power of the structure. We stand under it the first day, unable to go to the top because of high winds. We gawk at the world at our feet the next, seeing all of Paris stretching out to the horizon. We are staggered by the Tower at night, looming like an alien creation, literally taking our breath away.

We are especially lucky, not only to have my family for the week, but to meet three other local families. We enjoy seeing their homes, meeting their children, and eating the wonderful food the French eat at home. We will miss you as we travel on to Egypt today. I do not know how accessible the internet will be, but I will post when possible. Europe has been wonderful, but we think the real adventure is only just beginning.

Happy Holidays from our family to all of you.

Cin Cin

The Beatties

Normandy

As we finish the c-shaped loop around France’s southern, western and now northern coasts, we arrived at this location. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? The somber expressions on the children’s faces are apropos of the locale. This wind swept beach, with high waves was the sight of one of the most savage battles the world has ever seen. Over a thousand U.S. armed forces died here within the first hour of fighting. In fact, the beach is nicknamed Bloody Beach for its history. This is Omaha Beach, one of several landing sights during the Normandy invasion, the beginning of the end of World War II. At dawn, on 6th of June, 1944, US troops landed here and at Utah beach further west. British and Canadian forces simultaneously attacked at beaches to the east. But it was here, at Omaha, that the most casualties were suffered.

On a high bluff overlooking the beach lies the Cimitiere Americaine, or the American Cemetery. The French government gave the land to the US in perpetuity to honor those who had given their lives for the freedom of the French people. We try to understand the kind of courage it would take to run off a ship, with thousands of guns aimed at you, and run towards the firing. The gravestones have only names, hometowns and dates of death, and we wander among them, wondering at the person and those left behind, staggered by the shear numbers. It is beautiful here, in an immensely sad way, so peaceful.

The next day, we visit the Memorial Peace Museum. Siena comments that it is really a war museum. We watch a documentary of the Normandy Invasion. The film of actual footage, has a split screen. We can see the German preparations at the same time as the Allied troops approach the coast. Over 64 years later and it is still terrifying.

Tonight, we raise our glasses and toast the hundreds of thousands of souls who died during this horrific war.

Paix (peace in French) to you and yours

The Beatties

Vive la France

Vive la France!

And, boy, do they know how to live. We have spent the week learning how well the French, or at least the wealthy French, have lived throughout the centuries. This is Carcassonne, a medieval walled city in the southwest of France. The turrets, the castle, draw bridges and moats made us feel like we should be wearing armor and those weird cone hats, with the veils trailing off of them.

On to Bordeaux, and the celebrated Haut-Medoc wine region. Set amidst acres upon acres of perfectly rowed up vineyards are massive elegant chateaus. We went to the largest beach I’ve ever seen. We were here at low tide. The beach was two hundred yards wide, and, we were told, 30 miles long. From on top of the dunes, you could look in either direction and see nothing but beautiful beach. You can get a feel for just how enormous the beach is if you can pick out Ethan and Siena at the edge of the sand. The 15-meter tide completely covers the beach. We did our share of tasting the wonderful, deep red wines of the region. In fact, the tourist office had a tasting with 13 local vintners, each with 2-4 wines. We were not able to try all of the wines, but we put in a decent effort—and were unable to eat dinner that night. Of course, with all of this wine, there is still no Beattie Beer Index for France.

We found our own chateau to stay at in the Loire River valley. As it is the off season, we have the entire place to ourselves. This is where the royalty, before the revolution, built their summer palaces. We tour Chenonceau, which the King took over by levying steep taxes on the existing owner. Sounds a bit like the real estate market in the States doesn’t it? The vineyards here are the largest we’ve seen, stretching to the distant woods. We do some sampling here, too, but of the dry white wines and the wonderful brut sparkling wines. Here we toast with the vintner.

Where in the World are Ethan and Siena? This is one of those iconic locations, one that you have seen in countless photographs. It becomes an island at high tide, when the tides actually fill not only the surrounding marsh area, but also the lower parking lots. The steeple is part of an Abbey, built on this rock following a priest’s vision of the Archangel Michael. It was an unbelievable feat of engineering to build such a huge structure, precariously balanced on the peak of a mountain, in the 9th century. This is Mont St-Michel, the only spot in northern France to never be captured by the British. But, this whole northern part of France greatly resembles Great Britain, even treating us to the same cold, rainy weather for most of our time here, although the sun was shining on Mont St-Michel.

A votre sainte!

(to your health)

The Beattie Clan

France, Une

After a week spent in Gubbio, admiring the Umbrian scenery, hiking, riding horses, and making new friends (Fabio and Maurizio), we headed north and west. We spent 5 days in the South of France, near St. Tropez. Our good friends, Laura and Gilles, had offered us their beautiful home. We day tripped to this spot:

Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? Well, the Vatican was the smallest country; San Marino is the third smallest, and this tiny country, barely 4 kilometers by 800 meters, holds the second smallest position. This is a monarchy; U.S. citizens became better acquainted with the country when a top movie star, and my vote for most beautiful woman of all time, married their monarch. They hold a very famous Formula One car race on the windy roads of the capitol (where the regal actress met her untimely death). Can you see the large building with the green roof on the right, in the background above Siena’s head? It is the most famous casino in the world, where Bond, James Bond, had martinis whilst wearing his tux. This is Monaco, playground of the rich and famous. We saw Rolls Royce’s, Ferrari’s, and Lamborghini’s. Good thing we didn’t have to pass any of them in our underpowered Fiat Panda.

We visited the largest gorge in Europe, the Gorges du Verdon. You can’t believe how steep the cliffs are, like the Grand Canyon, with no crowds, parking lots, admission fees guardrails or warning signs. We were the only ones there. Our hopes for a hike were foiled when the rain caused the paths to become slippery, and slipping was out of the question for these walks! Unfortunately, the clouds descended about half way in, providing us with white out conditions for the tortuous drive. The part that we could see was spectacular, though.

We consoled ourselves once out of the mountains at a couple of chateaus, where we sampled several wines. The wine in this region is wonderful. We prefer red, but the rose here is quite good, too. This chateau did not have our favorite wines, but the tiny chapel here had a Chagall and two Gioccometti sculptures.

Can you recognize this spot? Perhaps if it were night time, and the lights all had halos around them? This is the Night Café, in Arles, which Vincent Van Gogh immortalized in his painting of the same name. The town is largely a Van Gogh memorial town, with plaques describing where each of his paintings had been done. Kind of ironic, considering no one there bought a single one of his paintings. In fact, when he was in the local psychiatric hospital, he gave a painting to his doctor, who liked it so well, he used it to fix a hole in his chicken coop. I sincerely hope the doctor didn’t tell Van Gogh this, as it could only accelerate his suicidal tendencies.

I don’t think I have mentioned the food lately. While in the U.S., we might go out for French, or Italian food, here the foods vary tremendously within each country. We try to have the specialty of the region (except when it is something truly gross, like tripe, for instance). The local truffles (the mushroom-like things the pigs dig up, not the rich chocolate dessert type) in Gubbio gave the pasta an earthy, wonderful taste. Pesto in the area around Genoa was fabulous. In fact, in Italy, it is called Genovese Sauce. The pizza was good everywhere in Italy, but none better than in Napoli, where they claim to have invented it. There are never many toppings on the pizzas, usually just a sprinkling of cheese. The seafood, especially the clams, were delicious in Venice. The best thing in Florence was the Gelato. And we had several. In St Tropez, we had their special dessert: a sponge cake with rich custard filling. Tonight, we had cassoulet in Carcassone. Cassoulet is a casserole with white beans, duck and sausage. I started the meal with a Hypocras, an aperitif made with white wine, and, forgive my inability to understand the waiter’s French, some sort of aromatic plant???? It was really delicious, whatever it was. Far better than the pastisse Kim ordered, anyway. Pastisse is a licorice flavored drink, served with water to dilute it first, so that you can swallow the vile concoction (Kim liked it, but we know how suspect his taste is…).

On to the Beattie Beer Index. Kim was commenting on how he couldn’t name a French beer. I replied that they had a few good beers. The first two bars we tried, though, did not have any French beers. And, with how patriotic the French are, you’ve got to figure their beer isn’t so hot, or they would sell it. So, there is no report on the beer, yet. The wine is another story. We usually spend about 3 Euro for a bottle, 8 Euro on a splurge or in restaurant. (today, that’s about $4 and $11, respectively).

Merci to all of you who write to us! We miss you and appreciate your letters.
Cin Cin (French, for Cheers!)
The Beattie Clan

Reflections on the First Four Months

Well, we’ve been traveling for 4 months. One third of our year long trip is over. During that time, we have been to 18 countries, most recently San Marino yesterday. What a gorgeous, if tiny, country! It is perched on a precipice, 1000 feet above the Italian countryside below, with views stretching forever to the Adriatic and the mountains to the west.

We are spending a week in a small resort complex near Gubbio, in the Umbria section of Italy. From our window, we can see farms and mountains, and, in the distance, the medieval city of Gubbio. There is fog in the valley every morning, but it has burned off by late morning on most days. We wake to the sounds of cows and roosters—no cars, or airplanes. We are using this week to rest and recharge our travel batteries. While we have not grown tired of our trip, it is wonderful to not have to plan where we are off to, not have to pack, to stay “home” in the evenings, playing cards with the kids.

As we lounge, we have been talking about the past four months. By and large, the trip has been incredibly easy. We have enjoyed being together and enjoyed the places we have visited. Along the way, we have met many people (lots of Australians!) The first question we are inevitably asked is, “What is your favorite place?” We do not have a single answer. Every place we’ve been has been wonderful. England, our first stop, was clearly our favorite, until we went to Wales and Scotland, which were just as great. Then, Great Britain was our favorite until we traveled to Norway and Sweden. Each successive country had something special about it. The national park in Croatia, the mountains in Slovenia and Slovakia, the fjords in Norway, window shopping in Istanbul, the views in Santorini, the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, St. Basil’s in Moscow, St. Peter’s in Vatican City, the food and wine in Italy, the beer in Germany and the Czech Republic, Budapest at night, the old city of Dubrovnik. These are all our favorites.

There are some things that have provided us with extra enjoyment. Ethan was in hysterics reading the street signs in Great Britain. His two favorites were “The Elderly Person Crossing” and the “No Shoulder” (or Sharp Drop Off). The former was a sign with two old people crossing the street. The silhouette of the people showed an old man, walking hunched over with a cane. The person behind was an elderly woman walking bent over, too, and it looked like her hand was in the old man's back pocket. I call it, “Beware of Elderly Pickpockets.” The latter sign was a picture of a car running off a cliff. I think it meant beware of running off the road into the water, which was 50 feet below, but the picture was so funny. Like it meant “No Diving With Your Car.”

Siena especially liked visiting a certain city in Italy. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? They are overlooking one of the nicest squares in Italy. Twice a year they hold a mad horse race around its perimeter called The Palio. This is Siena, the city our daughter is named for. She loved seeing gelaterias named Siena. Bars, banks, restaurants, T-Shirts, pins, and every other piece of trash you could imagine, all emblazoned with her, usually unusual, name. Cool! Ethan wants us to visit a town called Ethan.

I get a kick out of the Renaissance paintings of Biblical figures with Guiseppe, the local town administrator, and Paulo, the guy who paid the artist to paint the piece. “Look, honey, there’s me with Jesus and Mary! Did I tell you I ran into them the other day?” I mean, it strikes me as a bit ludicrous, but I guess it was all the rage for a few hundred years. Like the ancient equivalent of getting your picture taken with a life-sized cardboard cut out of a famous person.

Kim has enjoyed talking with the locals, even if they don’t understand him, and he certainly doesn’t always understand them! I must say his German has been extremely useful. Even here in Italy, there are lots of traveling Germans with whom he strikes up conversations. Of course, he does sometimes throw out a German phrase instead of the appropriate one for the current country. Like greeting people in Italy with Guten Tag! Most people have spoken excellent English, though, and we have made new friends in Vienna, in Prague, in Bratislava, in Krems, in Gubbio, on the Hurtigruten, from Melbourne, and from Canada, South Africa and Perth.

The world is full of some wonderful people and places and we feel very fortunate to be meeting the former and seeing the latter. We do miss our friends and relatives back home, and our pooch. After four months of travel, we each finished the following sentence. The world is: (Siena) “….our oyster”. (Ethan)”…a big place.” (Wendy)”…lots of fun.” (Kim)”…so much more full of wonder than I ever imagined.”

To end with the Beattie Beer (and wine) Index: This area of Italy is covered in vineyards; in fact, we can see two from our room. The wine is dry and cheap, two of our favorite adjectives to describe wine. We shared a half liter at lunch today, for 2 Euro fifty, about 3.50 USD.

So, with a glass of Chianti, or Brunello (both local wines), we say
Salute! Yamas! Sherefe! Slainte! Nastrovya! Prost! Skor! Skol!
Cheers, to all of you, in whatever language

The Beatties