The Last of Croatia

We love walled cities. We loved York, in England, Bautzen in Germany, Cesky Krumlov and Durnstein in the Czech Republic and Austria. There is something about a walled city that is magical. The sense of community, the feeling of protection, the way the physical boundary creates a maze of narrow streets to be wandered endlessly, the anticipation and home-coming I feel when entering the gates, like the relief of opening the door to our house after being away a long time, all make walled cities always my favorites.

So, where in the world are Ethan and Siena? They are standing on the walls of an ancient city. This city, long fiercely independent itself, was the first foreign state to recognize the fledgling USA in 1776 when we declared ourselves a country. This is Dubrovnik. It juts out into the Adriatic at the southern tip of Croatia. Have you ever looked at the shape of this country? Here is a map, so that you can see where we are. Dubrovnik is the perfect walled city. Not only does it have all the usual attributes of being surrounded by ancient walls, but what compounds its wonders are the multicolored hues of the Adriatic surrounding it, and the fact that it is built on the side of a mountain. It is a strenuous hike from the main street in the middle of the city up to the walls at both the east and west.

Dubrovnik was an independent republic for centuries. The city motto is Libertas, Latin for Freedom. The fort pictured on the top right edge of the window was built to protect the city of outside forces, but the city was so concerned that they could be controlled or conquered by themselves, by a strong ruler, that they only built the three walls facing away from the city with the usual, thick, impenetrable stone. The fourth wall, the one closest to the city walls, is only 60 centimeters thick, thus enabling the city to blow a hole in the wall if a military leader undertook to become a tyrant.

In 1991, Dubrovnik as a part of Croatia, declared themselves independent of the crumbling Yugoslavia. Well, the Serbs in power in Yugoslavia were not prepared to let Dubrovnik go peacefully. This tiny city, long past any military significance, was attacked from sea, land and air. The ancient monuments, which has been selected as UNESCO protected for their world cultural importance, were bombed with impunity. I think my children have a much better understanding of the horrors of war having witnessed bombs exploding on streets they have walked, especially as this is not many years in the past, but very recent. It is a miracle that the people of Dubrovnik and Croatia were able to rebuild the city to its current state. I do not know if it is as beautiful as it was before the war—certainly there are scars both on some buildings and in the inhabitants-- but it is incredibly magnificent today.

Can you see what this hedge is? Rosemary grows here with abundance. So do figs, lemons, limes and apples. We pick them to flavor our meals, and smell the lavender sold by the bushel in the markets. We are no longer in Eastern Europe, that is for sure! We are in the Mediterranean.

We rented an apartment on the very top of the hill, the last row of houses before the city ends and the mountain which looms over the city begins. It was 379 stairs up, and that was if we took the sloping way, to avoid many of the steps! But, the view was incomparable. The city, the ocean, the islands rising from the sea up in a chain heading north along the coast, all illuminated by the gorgeous Mediterranean light, here in sunset.

Next, we head to Turkey—Istanbul and my parents who are meeting us there.

Jivili! With the Croatian wine (and milk for E & S)

The Beatties

Croatia, limited pictures...

So, the trip continues. What I failed to mention in the last blog, is the trivial occurrence, which happened immediately following the last picture, the one of the four of us in front of the beautiful river in the Slovenian Alps. I slipped while removing the tripod and literally threw the digital camera into one of those crystal clear pools. In an effort to rescue the submerged camera, I slid into the pool myself. The water was a brisk 10 degrees Celsius—darn cold. Luckily, the chilly water helped to ice my derrière, which landed rather abruptly on the rocky prominences of the canyon. The camera, after 4 days of drying out, is unscathed! We didn’t lose a single picture. My posterior has been slower to heal, turning an amazing array of colors in the process.

The next day, we boarded a bus to a train to a bus to arrive in Krk, not a typo. There are all kinds of places with no vowels in this part of the world. We understand this is pronounced “Kirk”. Krk is a small medieval city, paved with marble, with narrow, winding alleys, perfect for playing hide and seek. Unfortunately, the second bus was so late that we arrived after the information center closed. We wandered, unsuccessfully trying to find an apartment or hotel, when the distant threat of thunder and lightning turned into the opening of the skies in an absolute down pour. By now it was approaching 9:30 pm, we were drenched, and had neither a place to stay nor dinner. Do you have an idea what happens to marble when it gets wet? Those quaint narrow alleys became completely treacherous, absurdly slippery. Things improved in rapid succession as we found a place (less than half the price we thought was quoted), a great dinner (no more heavy, Eastern European food) and a plan for the rest of Croatia.

We ended up, given our first lousy experience with Croatian buses, foregoing public transportation for this part of the trip, renting a car and heading for the mountains. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? This might be the most spectacular place in the world that you’ve never heard of. Plitvice National Park. We spent a cold, rainy day touring Plitvice National Park. It has a series of lakes, interconnected with countless waterfalls. They’ve built a boardwalk, around some lakes, over others, close enough to the falls to put your hand into the water. The lakes are almost eerie colors, turquoise, sapphire, teal--certainly not colors that normally occur in nature.

From here, we headed to the coast and a string of wonderful cities on the Adriatic. Split, Hvar and Korcula are all beautiful, clean and friendly with great fish and vegetable markets, ancient ruins, red tiled roofs, rising up the steep hillsides, which end in the light green of the Adriatic. You can see the bottom of the sea from the shore, and the water is very swimmable (Word doesn’t like this spelling, but I like it)—about 22 degrees Celsius. Is it possible that this is saltier water than other oceans/seas? We seem to float more easily here, although that may be due to our skipping the dumplings in Slovakia, which reminds me…

Let me digress and tell you about the food on the second part of the trip. I think I already wrote about the food in Great Britain, Scandinavia and Russia. Our entry into Eastern Europe was a return to some seriously hearty foods, way heartier even than in England. We had sausages and more sausages, goulashes (yum), stews, roasts, and fried everything. And lots and lots of “dumplings.” Now, dumplings are usually a favorite of mine, but, here dumplings have an entirely different meaning. Here, they take partially cooked white bread, slice it into 1 centimeter portions, and serve it along side whatever gravy covered meat was ordered. We were talking to some Canadian tourists, who claimed that these dumplings sank faster than a hockey puck when tossed into water. We didn’t actually try this, but we sure did miss vegetables and lighter fare. Once in Croatia, we’ve been living off of grilled fish and seafood, other than the wonderful meal of pig on the spit.

The Beattie Beer Index has a moderate rating for Croatia. The beers are pretty good, a bit lighter and fizzier than we really like, and costing about $3 in a restaurant and $1 from the store for a half liter. But, the real story here are the wines! Especially where we are now, in Dalmatia. And, the bottles are mostly 1 liter, not the typical, skimpy, 750 ml bottles we get in the States. We are presently finishing a bottle of an absolutely fabulous wine, Plavac, from Korcula, the island where we are today. We rode bicycles through the vineyards, arriving at this tiny shack where they make this incredible wine. As we finish the bottle, we wax nostalgic, as we miss drinking wine with our wine buddies! If you can find any wine from this region, known as Grk wines, please try it, especially the reds. Supposedly, the vines were transported here by the Greeks, saving the grapes from Troy after they destroyed the city. “Grk” is pronounced, understandably given the origin of the grapes, like “Greek.” The picture here, is of a group hand picking the grapes for this wine. They gave us a bunch to taste. So, pour yourselves a glass of good wine, raise it up, and clink with us!

Jivili! (Croatian, for Cheers!)

The Beatties

Hungary and Slovenia

We trained from the mountains of Slovakia to Hungary, traveling hours out of the way as the train lines do not connect easily. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? They are in the capitol of Hungary, Budapest. Budapest was two cities, for hundreds of years, Buda and Pest, until those Hapsburgs decided that it should be one city, and combined their names. The Danube curves through, dividing Pest, on the east, and lower side, from Buda, which rises up on the hillside over Pest. The children are standing on the balcony of the National Art Gallery. The large building in the background is the Hungarian Parliament, the largest building in Europe (at least when it was built—there’s probably a Wall-mart bigger now…) This is a lovely city, with a stately castle on the hill, soaring basilicas, and beautifully preserved buildings. The apartment we rented was in a turn of the century building (can one still use this phrase to mean the beginning of the 20th century and not the 21st?), with marble stairs, 14” high ceilings and ornate plaster molding. Too bad the building, with its numerous shops conveniently located on the ground floor, also housed a disco and a betting shop that did brisk business throughout the night. There were a fraction of the tourist here compared to Prague, and we were able to wander throughout the city, without any crowds. Here are pictures of the Fisherman's Bastion and Kim and Ethan in the Jewish Synagogue. The Beattie Beer Index had a favorable report in Hungary. Beer was about $1 per half liter, and the beer was good. However, we found the Hungarian wine to be quite good, and, at $3, an even better bargain.

To see what Hungary was like outside of the capitol, we picked a small town on the largest lake in the country, Keszthely, to explore. It was kind of like an ancient Saugatuck or Coney Island, maybe more like the latter, as it had the feeling of better days gone by. Oddly enough, we heard far more German here than Hungarian, which was okay by us, as we are having a very hard time picking up any words in this tongue twisting language.

Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? They are in the capitol city of a small country, nestled between Austria, Italy, Hungary and Croatia. It has a short coastline, just 46 kilometers long, with a population of only 2 million. This is Ljubljana, Slovenia. It is easier to pronounce than to spell, Lub-lee-an-ah. The capitol is about the size of Ann Arbor, and has a large university in it—also about the size of University of Michigan. The city is filled with wonderful small squares, each with its own statue or fountain, outdoor cafes, and a green river running through. The bridges crossing the river are beautiful and the entire city is made for pedestrians, with lots of narrow alleys, and steep stairs climbing to the towering castle above. Behind the kids, you can see the Town Hall in the background. We wandered in to the Town Hall off the small plaza in front of it, only to have a well dressed man approach us and welcome us to tour the building. I asked the security guard, and, yes, that was the Mayor of Ljubljana. What other mayor of a national capitol would have personally greeted us? We can’t remember when we decided to come to Slovenia, but are so glad we did. We love it here. After exploring Ljubljana with Mark, (a Canadian we met on a four hour wait for our train and the 5 hour train ride, if you were wondering who was the other guy in the picture…), we headed towards the Slovenian mountains, the Julian Alps (after Julius Caesar). We biked around the lake in Bled, which looks like it is a movie set for a town in the Alps, with a church on an island, turquoise waters, and the obligatory castle on the hill. The town was a bit commercial for our tastes, though, and we continued on our way to Bohinj, a small town in the middle of Slovenia’s only national park. In the course of our second day here, we wrote a poem—this is the kind of place that would make anyone want to write poetry. From our room, we can see the highest mountain in Slovenia, Triglav, rising almost 3000 meters, far above the tree line. Yesterday, we hiked around the lake and up to the waterfall on the far end. Today, we explored a deep canyon near here, where the cascading water has created a chasm almost 40 meters deep. The clarity of the water is astounding. We can literally see fish from the top of the canyon. More people seem to speak English here than in any of the other countries we have been in recently (with the exception of Austria), making travel much easier. Adding to the allure of Slovenia, beer in the market cost 75 cents and a nice bottle of local wine, costs a something like $3. I think I have forgotten to put this in perspective. The cost of a bottle of water is $2 and a can of coke is about $2.50. It makes it hard to rationalize not drinking. As of today, I have resisted the temptation to encourage the kids to start drinking beer in order to save money. Tomorrow, I think we are heading to Croatia.

Nastrovja
The Beatties




Ode to Bohinj


We swim in the lake, throw rocks for fun
The water is cold; we warm in the sun.
Surrounded by Alps, with water so clear
Couldn’t be better, than it is right here.

From an underground source, that does not show
The water drops far to green pools below.
We climb to the falls, air cools as we near
It couldn’t be better, than it is right here.


We hike for miles, ‘round canyon and lake,
Photos of mountains and valleys we take.
The town where we stay has hardly a peer.
We couldn’t be happier than we are right here.

Happy Labor Day!

Austria
The hills are alive. This is as close as I’ve ever come to singing in tune. We traveled around Salzburg, visiting various sites famous for real or make believe occurrences. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? This house, on this very busy pedestrian street is where one of the most famous composers the world has ever known was born—Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Salzburg, and to a lesser degree, the rest of Austria has commemorative plaques on places where he played, ate and slept. (It is kind of like George Washington on the East Coast of the United States. You think to yourself, on the twelfth time seeing a plaque acknowledging Washington’s having slept there, that, my goodness, the guy really slept around!) Actually, the opera house in Prague where we had the pleasure of seeing Don Giovanni was where the opera debuted. And, who conducted this first performance? Yes, none other than the omnipresent Mozart himself!

And, now, where in the world are Ethan and Siena? Salzburg is also the location for the film the Sound of Music. Thousands of tourists traipse over Salzburg and its environs to see the Abbey where Maria lived (This is the gates of the Abbey, actually a nunnery, built in the 8th century, I think), the gardens in which the children and Maria frolicked whilst singing Doe, a Deer, (beautiful gardens) and the plaza through which Maria walks on her way to become a nanny (unfortunately covered with scaffolding, like a good portion of Europe). Interestingly enough, the people we stayed with in Austria had never seen the movie, but understandably scoffed at tourists seeking out places based on fictitious events.

We spent a lovely day in the Alps. We climbed up a mountain, overlooking a gorgeous town and an even more beautiful lake (St. Wolfgang—no relation, phew, but his sister was married there, and his mother buried there.)

Now, where in the world are Ethan and Siena? The river in the background has been the major route for transporting people and goods in Europe for centuries. The color might be a bit misleading. If it were more blue, could you guess? Dah, dah, dah dah dah, bump bump, bump bump. This is the Danube River. We have climbed high above the river to a picturesque ruin of a castle where Richard the Lionhearted was imprisoned briefly. The surrounding countryside is covered with vineyards, and they make fabulous wine here. We stayed with a wonderful couple in Krems, an ancient walled city on the Danube, and sampled a number of bottles with them. One evening, we were treated to a Heuertigen. This is an old tradition in the region, where wine makers are allowed to sell their wines directly to the public for a specific week during the year. They serve cold foods along with their wines, and it is a bit like a city block party, that rotates week to week. In fact, we toured a winery in Krems, where they make not only lovely wine, but, as Ethan and Siena will attest, the world’s best grape juice. Each time there was a wine for us to taste, the kids got a different kind of grape juice. We also took a dip in the Danube to clear away the effects of drinking wine in the afternoon. The Danube is a fabulous place to swim. You can swim at whatever speed you prefer, depending on how far from shore you are, and never move a centimeter. Just don’t rest, or you’ll end up in Vienna!

Vienna was our next stop. We stayed with our sister-in-law’s counsin’s wife’s children and their boyfriends. Their home is high on a ridge, overlooking Vienna, and, despite the rather tenuous family connection, we were made very much to feel at home with family. Anna and Lisa were fabulous hosts, showing us the city and taking us to the best schnitzel restaurant in the world, where the meat is pressed through a series of rollers, to insure even thinness, and then fried in a series of pans to prevent the oil from cooling during the process. Yum. The only sad part of Vienna was this is where we said farewell to Ross, who must return to college. And, this is the end of the planned portion for a while.

We woke up the morning after dropping Ross off at the airport, trying to decide if we wanted to go to Budapest today or tomorrow, if we wanted to go by boat or train, if we wanted to stop for few hours in Slovakia on the way. Ultimately, we ended up going to Bratislava, and spending the night is this small, but beautiful capitol city. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? They are in the capitol of Slovakia, a relatively new capitol as this country only split from Czechoslovakia about 20 years ago. They speak a language very similar to Czech here in Slovakia, not unusual considering the recent split. We learned during the Olympics that the two countries even split their national anthem—with the Czech Republic getting the first half and Slovakia the second! We were given a tour of the city by a local, Andrej. At dinner that night, eating the traditional heuskys (kind of like gnocchi in sour sheep’s milk sauce…) we talked to the people at the next table. They informed us that the mountains in the eastern portion of Slovakia are amazing. So, the next morning we boarded a 4.5 hour train ride across Slovakia. Today, Labor Day in the US, Independence Day in Slovakia, we are planning to hike in the mountains. Tomorrow is the start of school back home. We wish you all a wonderful school year!

Nastrovy!
The Beattie Clan

End of Russia, Germany and Czech Republic--with images

Since last I wrote, we have left Russia, gone to Germany, and proceeded to Prague, CZ. It wasn’t until we arrived in Germany that we were able to verbalize to each other that Russia gave us the hebbijebbis (sp?). (A note from Ross) Adding to our discomfort in Russia, was that the first night that we were in St. Petersburg, as Putin walks onto the television screen, Wendy, maybe not so tactfully, actually yells “He’s Evil!!” At this point I immediately began to disavow any knowledge of connection to her, as Dad began sweeping the apartment for bugging devices. But eventually we got over our fear of having the government after us, until we got to Moscow anyways which was maybe slightly less hospitable to tourists than Siberia under Stalin (which I finally feel like I can say having now left Russia). Something just was not right. The morning before our flight to Germany (our airplane trip, I should say, as there is a history of flights from Russia, no?) we met an American woman married to a Russian. We lamented that Moscow did not exactly seem welcoming, nor the people happy. She replied that as a former English major, she found it very interesting that there is no word in Russian for “Joy”. And, that pretty much sums it up. We saw few smiles, no laughs, no one over the age of 5 playing. In Moscow, everyone we met seemed on the verge of yelling at us. Some past the verge, actually. There was no tolerance for our lack of speaking Russian—and we tried. I used my translator (it was a lifesaver, Mom. Thank you very much!) In St Petersburg, there were information centers and maps and signs throughout the city, pointing directions to popular tourist spots (in Cyrillic and Roman alphabet). Subways at least had maps to follow. In Moscow, there was nothing. We had a horrible time trying to find the main Russian museum, as there were no signs, and no one we stopped on the surrounding streets seemed to know it existed. The subway stations were gorgeous, but contained no signage to help anyone unsure of where to go. The sites were fabulous—especially the Kremlin and the incredibly extensive and beautiful subway system, but the people and the experience were lacking. We noticed the difference on the plane ride to Berlin. There was a group of twenty-ish year olds, practically dancing in the aisles to be leaving Russia. They had spent a month in Russia and they couldn’t wait to reach paradise (out of Russia and into Berlin).

Berlin was fabulous. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? We’ve already crossed some important lines (the Prime Meridian and the Arctic Circle) and an amazing wall (Hadrian’s Wall). This is the Berlin Wall. It separated East and West Berlin for 28 years, from 1961 until November 1989. After World War II, although Russia and the U.S. and winning powers of Western Europe were on the same side, there was incredible distrust between the two sides. Russia (then, the USSR), didn’t want the people to leave (defect) to West Berlin. They built a wall separating the two sides of the city. Many people who tried to leave East Germany were arrested or killed. The Wall was torn down by the people of East Germany. The city of Berlin has been united since November 29th, 1989, and rapidly East Berlin has been catching up with the West. They have left the cobble stone path showing where the wall used to run. Ethan and Siena are riding on either side of the old wall.

From Berlin, we rented a car and headed south, to Bautzen, a small, walled city. We loved it here. The Beattie Beer Index reports that a beer in Berlin is about $4, but excellent. I should note that our beer costs in Russia were a bit deflated as we usually bought the beer in a market and drank in the apartments. After all, who wanted to hang with the not-so-friendly Russsians?

Then, it was on to the Czech Republic. This part of the trip through Eastern Europe has been of particular interest to me as this is where my family was from. The foods in Russia were the foods my maternal grandmother used to make. Now, in the Czech Republic, we are in the homeland of my paternal grandfather. It is a good thing he emigrated when he did. We went to the Jewish Museum in Prague and read the names of at least 4 dozen Fischls killed during the 1930’s and 1940’s.

The highlight of our time in Prague, though, was our stay with our first Servas family. Servas is an organization designed on Ghandi’s work. World peace, built one friendship at a time. We contacted a family in Prague, who opened their home to us. Our first night there, they cooked their traditional Christmas dish for us, which is a wonderful potato salad. The next night, I cooked the Beattie Family Christmas meal, or a reasonable approximation, as we could find neither turkey nor cranberries. Our kids and their kids had fun playing together despite being unable to communicate verbally.

Prague is a beautiful city, with open squares, a river wending its way through, castles and churches around every corner. There are, unfortunately, an excess of tourists, which detracts from the experience. But, it is difficult to complain as we, in fact, are tourists. My new friend Vera was able to get us tickets to the Opera in Prague. Ross, Siena and I were treated to a fabulous performance of Don Giovanni, in our private box. Ross had sung one of the arias in high school, although not in Italian.

The Beattie Beer Index has fallen in the Czech Republic to an all time low of $1.10 at a bar! The quality of the beer is comparable to the German beer in taste. Can you read the name of the beer Kim is guzzling? Budvar’s Budweiser Beer has been made here for 700 years. And, it tastes considerably better than our Bud, that’s for sure. Kim is commenting over my shoulder that the Russians tried to hold onto CZ after losing West Germany to keep the good beer flowing. We were in Prague for the 40th anniversary of the Russian invasion.

We are now in Cesky Krumlov, a small city in the south of the Czech Republic. Can you see the name of the beer Kim is guzzling? Yep, that's Budweiser, the original--not the fizzy American variety. Sometime today, we will travel into Austria, homeland of my maternal grandfather. We have no reservations, and no idea what town to even look in. This pretty much ends my planning from home, so it is on to traveling by the seat of our pants now… Love to all and:
Prost! (German) and Nastrovy (CZ)

The Beatties

Russia!

So, we land in St. Petersburg. I had arranged for the company from which I had rented the apartment to pick us up at the airport. A man with a sign with my name on it greeted us and piled us into the back of a single car. He spoke no English, and seemed unable to grasp that we spoke no Russian, as he would speak volubly regarding sites we passed. The courtyard of our building was slum like, but the entrance to the apartment was positively scarey. The woman who provided us with a key spoke no English (are you starting to see a pattern here? Virtually no one speaks English in Russia). Then, our bank card stopped working and no one takes credit cards. But, the next day the card started to work and the sun came out and we came to love St. Petersburg. It is a magestic city. Huge buildings, wide streets, canals, palaces and churches with lots of onion-capped spires.

In Russia, they use the Cyrillic Alphabet. So, not only can you not communicate by speaking, you can't even read the signs. We are getting better at it, as the letters are very similar to the Greek alphabet--and Kim, Ross and I have taken enough math classes to learn some of the Greek Alphabet. For instance, here is a sign I'm sure you will recognize. We learned today of the McDonald's index. People can gauge the cost of living by the cost of an McDonald's burger in a country. Well, the Beattie Index will judge livability by the cost of a commodity far more frequently consumed by the Beattie's--beer. Pivo, in Russian. In England, a pint was about $5. In Norway, beer was $12 (and out of our price range). In Sweden, a beer was down to $6. And, happily, in Russia, beer is about $1. Bonus, it is really good, too.

Perhaps even more challenging is that the letters that are familiar are usually pronounced completely differently. Can you read the name on this boat? We took the picture for Siena's friend Sophia, as that is what the name reads in Russian ("C" is s, "Phi" is F or ph, and the backwards "N" is I). Wild.

Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? This is the second largest museum in the world. It contains almost 4 million pieces of art, housed in the former palace of Catherine the Great. This is the Hermitage museum, specifically, the Winter Palace. We spent 4 hours and saw most of the main part of the museum. The State Rooms that have been restored to their original condition are unbelievable. The word of the day was "opulent", and the Hermitage was all of that. Amazing to go to a museum and have the rooms be the focal point much more than the paintings, even though the collection of paintings was unbelievable. There were so many Rembrandts and Matisses, Picassos and Monets, you couldn't even count.

In keeping with the opulent theme of St. Petersburg, we visited the summer palace of Peter the Great, the founder of the city. As we are a bit tired of touring gorgeous, over the top palaces, we contented ourselves with exploring the gardens. At the rapid Beattie pace, we walked for almost 3 hours and covered only part of the gardens. The fountains were particularly spectacular, all 150 of them! Amazing engineering for the beginning of the 18th Century, too.

It is wild to be in Russia, especially for Kim and me. We grew up as children of the Cold War. In New York, we frequently hid in the closets at school for air raids, and had villains named "Natasia" and "Boris". "Today, we walked through Red Square, and experienced just how much Russia has embraced capitalism. Nice cars, huh? And, they charge for everything, the bathroom, the subway map, entrances to churches, even the Lenin's Library!

And, one more Where in the World are Ethan and Siena?

Isn't this an amazing church? This church sits in the middle of Red Square. It was built in the 1500s and rebuilt in the late 1700s (by Catharine the Great, again!). This is St. Basil's Cathedral (This reminded us of our great friend Catherine's dog Basil)

Vosh strovya!

The Beatties

6 August

I forgot to mention a funny incident early on in the trip. I was driving towards our lodging in the middle of nowhere in northern England. Kim was navigating (a potentially marriage ending combination, I might add…). We had, shall we say, a difference of opinion regarding if the youth hostel was on the road on which we were driving or the one heading south. I pulled into a small café on the corner for Kim to run in and ask where the place was. Kim wasn’t even sure it was a café as there were chickens running around the yard, and a bunch of cows staring at us. He thought it was somebody’s house, but consented to ask inside after my repeated nagging and locking him out of the car. He asked the woman there who was in the process of cleaning a bathroom. She started to answer, “It’s down the road a bit,” then yelled upstairs, “Les, is the youth hostel on the road in Twice Brewed (no lie, that is the name of a town)?” Les yelled back, “No, this is it!” And, that is the true story of how we found the charming, if elusive, Grindel Youth Hostel (see picture to show just how in the middle of nowhere it is). We jumped out of the car and went hiking. This was the hike that elicited the comment of our hiking from pint to pint, and one of the pints was downed in Twice Brewed. If you count that we each had a pint (only those of us legally able to do so, of course), it was actually Thrice Brewed. Anyway, when we got back to the hostel, our innkeeper had been “visiting” with a friend and could hardly stand up. He advised us to go out for dinner rather than eat there, but welcomed our help in setting the table and cooking for the other guests. He kept saying, “I really shouldn’t have had that session with John.” The “session” involved about a fifth of whisky. And, dinner elsewhere ended up being fabulous.

So, we leave Norway behind. A fabulously beautiful country, with houses located in the most isolated places imaginable, some seemingly inaccessible from any direction, even by hiking, Norway was impossible to not admire. The food was spotty. The breads were great, but I, personally, don’t think caviar is appropriate for breakfast. You may argue that it is eggs, but still, vodka is made from potatoes and I don’t have it for breakfast either (please do not refer back to the Scotland blog in which I refer to trying whisky before a flight). We met a lovely Norwegian couple on our boat ride, however, most of the Norwegians seemed less approachable. When in Great Britain, we talked to many people and found almost universal friendliness. This was not the case so much in Norway. I am fairly certain it wasn’t a language barrier issue, either, as the Norwegians spoke English flawlessly. Here is a picture of our favorite valley.

The last day in Norway, Ross decided that the opportunity to swim above the Arctic Circle might never present itself again. Despite a cool day with a stiff wind and a decided lack of preparation (read: no towel or suits), he stripped to his boxers and dove in. Now, with the gauntlet decidedly thrown down, I had no choice but to follow him. The water was, umm, brisk! But, we did it! We were less than 2100 kilometers from the North Pole, closer to it than to most of Europe. We then boarded a train, bus, train, subway to reach our hotel in Stockholm, a mere 23 hour trip. Sleeping on the train was kind of fun. It felt like you were on a simulator ride of some sort, with your bed tilting in various planes and stopping and starting.

Stockholm is built on a bunch of islands. These islands are connected by bridges. So far, we’ve been on 7 of the islands. Our hotel is in a boat, directly across from City Hall. This is where the Nobel Prize banquet and dance are held. This picture is from our hotel port hole.

The food in Sweden is similar to Norway, but better. Last night, we had a fabulous Swedish Smorgasbord. There were about 7 kinds of herring, and, yes, Brenda, Siena tried one of them. I doubt she’ll be having more any time soon. The salmon, in all the different preparations, was terrific. They had 3 different smoked salmons, a marinated salmon, poached salmon, and a baked salmon. Reindeer was liked by all, in the various ways we tried it. It does not taste like venison—less gamey and more tender. (I know I will have my hunting friends defending venison, saying that if it is “cooked right” it is great. Well, evidently no one I have met cooks it right, as the best thing I can say about venison is, when it is absolutely at its best, I couldn’t tell it was venison. That doesn’t seem like high praise to me.) The Swedish meatballs are fabulous. We tried Aquavit. This is an alcohol made from caraway seeds. It is served very cold, straight up, and is really very good. And, it gets the taste of herring out of your mouth quickly, an added bonus!

The old part of town, Gamla Stan, is a small, hilly island, with narrow cobbled streets and lovely old buildings. Stockholm is one of the best preserved cities in Europe. This may be due, in large part, to their remaining neutral in both World Wars. In Norway, the departing Germans burned entire cities to the ground. Stockholm was unscathed. It is interesting hearing how the different countries feel about each other. Norwegians are still rankled by Sweden’s failure to fight on their side. Swede’s view Denmark with distrust after centuries of invading each other.
Today we are going to explore some more of Stockholm before leaving tomorrow for Russia. This will be the first place where language will be a major issue. Not only do the people there not routinely speak English, but the alphabet is completely different, too. Wish us luck! And, Skol, (cheers, in Swedish—actually spelled with an “a” with a circle over it) to all of you.