Travel Snippets 9 of 9
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We were parked on the beach near Korínthou (Corinth), Greece, one evening, when a very old man and his very old wife went past, driving a small flock of sheep. The shepherd had a staff that looked very attractive, so I tried to buy it to add to my collection. The shepherd had a hurt look on his face, hugged the staff to his breast, and wouldn't even consider selling. Later I followed them, to see again if I could buy the staff. The man finally told his wife to go to their home and get one for me. After walking high into the hills, we arrived at a lean-to. She went in and brought out a little “nothing” cane, not at all like the staff her husband carried. So, I obtained a $5 Greek cane and a $15 story. (1989)
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We were seated in St. Mark’s Square, Venice, Italy, enjoying a Coke, the music, and the view of St. Mark’s. Suddenly a well dressed man flopped in a chair, and let out a long, loud sigh. He relaxed a moment, said he is a college professor from Ireland, who acts as a tour guide for groups of traveling Americans. “I told them I would never again lead a New York City group, they bribed me with extra money, so here I am — but never again.” He said it was impossible to lead people from New York City, he would resign before he tried it again. People from New York City were selfish, cared only about themselves, and would not cooperate. They had paid for a tour and a Tour Leader, but they did what they wanted to do, and paid no attention to the needs of the tour group as a whole. (1985)
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We wish we had purchased many of the very unusual scales we found at flea markets all over Europe. The variety of design and style was amazing. The half-dozen we bought were just a small sample of what we saw over the years. For example, in Hameln, Germany, we saw an interesting scale that could weigh rather large items, and had an added indicator pointer that would permit a very accurate weight on small items. We thought we would find one for less money somewhere, but would you believe it, we have never seen another scale like the ones at Hameln, anywhere, before or since. (1980)
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We wonder if anyone else would be as surprised as we were to find a tiny ferry boat was needed to cross from Portugal to Spain. At Vila Real de St. Antonio, Portugal, we found the Guadiana River was very wide and there was no bridge, just a small ferry boat with room for our RV and a couple of cars, for the ride to Ayamonte, Spain. The parking lot was huge, I can imagine the long wait in the busy season. The Spanish Custom’s man saw our passport cover, didn’t open them, just said, “Americans,” and waved us on. (1979)
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We would like to see them restore the exterior of a few buildings in Venice, Italy, to their original glory, rather than leave them as they have deteriorated. That’s not to say the magnificent old ruins are not exceptional in their own way. Would the Parthenon in Athens, the Castle in Heidelberg, the Coliseum in Rome, the city of Ephesus in Turkey, and Hadrian’s wall in England be more interesting if they were restored to their original beauty? Who knows, but why not set aside a portion of Venice to be renovated and returned to its original glory, then see how that compares to the way they do it now.
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We’ve seen Berlin, Germany, both with and without the Wall, and believe it, we prefer without.
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We’ve seen miles of little canvas changing booths on beaches in France, and in Italy. It’s amusing the ladies will spend their time and money for a booth, then appear on the beach a few minutes later, perhaps wearing only one-half of an almost nonexistent bathing suit. Please understand, I’m not complaining.
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Well, the Heidelberg, Germany, castle is nice, but the most elegant, the most beautifully built feature in one photo of the castle, displayed on our Web Site, Travel-Tidbits.com, is my travel companion.
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What a difference traffic control makes. Years ago, we drove our RV right through Piazza Duomo, parking across the street from the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, in Florence, Italy, or wherever we could find space nearby. On our first two visits in Milano, we parked right at the curb, next to the Cathedral. In 1970 a man came to us and asked if we were going to Switzerland. He then indicated he wanted us to take, or maybe smuggle, something out of Italy or into Switzerland — we didn’t care which, since we weren’t interested in doing either. With the new traffic rules needed to control the influx of the multitude of tourists, in Florence, Milano, and most other cities in Italy, we can’t park near the Cathedral any more. Funny thing, in spite of these changes it still seems as if the air is filled with gasoline fumes.
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When a traffic problem develops on a Paris street, the French driver starts to creep, millimeter by millimeter, to make sure he doesn’t get left out, and to make sure no one gets even a centimeter ahead. We have been in traffic jams, with no other reason for the jam.
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When Emmy’s Cousin Toni visited our home one year, we told her we intended to entertain in the manner she had entertained us, and we had scheduled the fire in our neighbor’s condominium for Tuesday night. She insisted that would be carrying hospitality much too far indeed. Toni’s neighbor's home caught on fire one night, yes a Tuesday night, while we were visiting in her home. There was no damage to Toni’s home. I sprayed water until Toni’s 50 year old garden hose broke, so I take credit for saving the whole place. (1984)
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When I asked how long we could park in Portofino, Italy, the attendant replied, in English, “24 hours.” I said, “Fine we’ll just spend the night.” And he said, “No problem.” By this time I should have determined “No problem” is the standard Italian answer to most any question involving the movement of a vehicle. We have a map of Italy that is entitled “Italy, No Problem.” Most likely a night in an RV in a parking lot in Portofino, Italy, is somewhat unique. The next morning, a policeman with a big smile on his face and a wig-wag of his finger let us know sleeping in the parking lot in our RV was a no-no, and we shouldn’t do it again. On our next visit, we found a new apartment building in place of the parking lot. There was no place to park for a night in our RV, this trip. (1988)
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When I told Emmy’s Cousin Hugo that I often ate dates for breakfast, he said that while he was stationed with the Germany Army in Africa in WW II, for breakfast they often ate bread with a slice of pressed-seedless dates. One day when they saw an African man tramping in a tub as if he were stomping grapes, they found the barefoot man, with dirty bare feet, was stomping on dates to remove the seeds. They changed their breakfast menu.
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When our driver (me) does something in the RV that causes, or results from a traffic complication, or that results in a driving problem, we get the feeling some Italian is saying, “That looks like fun, I must try that some time.”
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When the SS Fairsea docked at Los Angeles we got off the ship and quickly passed through Customs. We were stopped by another customs man who proceeded to go through everything with a fine-tooth comb. He accused us of being up to something. We didn’t need our passports, so why did we have them with us? Did we place all those little purchases in one suitcase, because we hoped they wouldn’t look in the other one? That’s just what they told everyone to do. Finally we got out of there, after a 30 minute problem. I called the head of Customs in Los Angeles, and told him what happened. He checked with that customs man, called me back and said this man had just graduated from training school, and was just doing each and everything they had taught him. The Manager couldn’t imagine we hadn’t complained. We said the “rookie” might have thrown us in jail if we grumbled. (1972)
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When we are in Europe, especially in Italy, driving our RV which is higher than a regular car, we must be sure and read the round signs with a red border, with numbers inside the circle. That tells us when an arch, or an over-crossing of some kind is not high enough to permit our vehicle to pass, or when the street is too narrow. We, and the vehicles behind us, have had to back up a block or two several times in Europe, when there was no sign, or we didn’t see the sign, but then found our vehicle didn't fit on this street.
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When we arrived at a campground near York, England, a man asked if we were going into Ripon to see the “Wakeman.” For 1,100 years, without missing one night, at 9:00 PM a man blows a horn to tell the town-folks, all is OK. The Wakeman was dressed in a three cornered hat, brown overcoat with brass buttons. There is a statue in the square, he goes to each corner and blows one note. He must go to the Mayor’s home and blow it again. Years ago the Wakeman was responsible to see that no one broke into the stores on the square. He was paid a tax by each merchant whose store had a door that opened onto Ripon’s square. Some Ripon merchants built their store on the square, but placed the front door to the side, and far enough away not to qualify for the Wakeman-tax. There have always been tax evaders. (1980)
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When we arrived at Kosmás, Greece, it appeared maybe we were driving on someone’s driveway. The concrete street looked as if a truck dumped a load of concrete and just let it run down the side of the hill and harden where it lay, no one had bothered to spread it around, or to level it. Or maybe we are lost and this really is someone’s driveway. It’s so rough, narrow, steep, and unbelievable, we could barely move, even in low gear. However, Kosmás is fascinating and the recently renovated, or newly built central marketplace has large trees shading a pleasant stone-paved square. What a contrast between the road, both before and after Kosmás, and the destination. (1989)
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When we arrived at the German/Poland border near Szczecin, Poland, in 1991, they glanced at our passport covers, and the whole process took about three seconds. The last time we crossed the border between these two countries, in 1985, the bureaucratic complexities took three hours. Since then, the Berlin Wall fell. A week or so later (still in 1991) we crossed from Germany to Poland again, at Frankfurt-an-der-Ober, at the Ober River. This is the bridge where we spent the three hours in 1985. That year we finally left our Polish money unchanged when a person who spoke English and Polish whispered that we better leave quickly because the Customs Officers were talking about causing us a real problem if we insisted on changing our Polish Zlotys into German Marks. This time, just a smile and a wave from the Customs lady, and we were on our way.(1991)
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When we arrived in Austria, we were still having the problem with the alternator light, so in Villach, we found a Renault dealer. It was 10 minutes to 12:00 noon, and I explained to the mechanic it must be a problem with the red light, and not with the alternator. He pulled on a couple of wires and found one broken. The mechanics in other countries (and me), had pushed in the wires to make sure they were making contact, and that made it work for a little while, until it jiggled loose again. This man pulled a wire, then found and solved the problem. His friends kept trying to get him to go to lunch. I asked how much we owed, and when the man saw the cashier had also gone to lunch, he indicated we should just leave. The wonderful people we meet. (1988)
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When we arrived in Dallas, Texas, from Frankfurt, Germany, one year, Braniff Airlines unloaded the 747 in a room with enough space for 1/3 that many people, and little room for luggage. We had five large items, including a large package holding a Spindler marquetry picture. We watched the Customs Agents look through suitcases, carryon bags, ladies handbags, and even examining wallets. We could imagine another hour in the Dallas Airport opening and closing our treasure trove, but when it was our turn, they just asked if we were in the art business (because of the picture), then waved us on our way. Why did they check those other people so carefully, and not check us at all? We aren’t complaining, just wondering. Europeans aren’t the only nice people. (1980)
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When we arrived in Europe for our 1983 trip Emmy suggested we travel in a rental car and sleep in hotels, instead of buying an RV. Three days was all she could stand. It took so much time to find a hotel room, pack and unpack our suitcases, find restaurants three times a day, so we went looking for an RV. We found a 1978 Dodge Transvan owned by a US Army Major at Nellingen Barracks, near Stuttgart. In 87 days we drove 8,000 miles, in ten countries and garaged the RV in Mettlach, awaiting our next visit. We couldn’t imagine the horror and the time required to find 87 hotels and 261 restaurants, rather than rest and relax in the RV. We spent our time with real people in the campground, in the bakery, and in the grocery store, rather than bell hops, waiters, and people who were sick of spending time with tourists.
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When we arrived in Poznan in 1991, as happened in 1985 the people in the Hotel Merkur let me use the desk phone. I called the home of the Dean of the School of Law we had visited in 1985. In a few minutes Danuta (Dany) and her sister Alexandra (Ola) greeted us. This was the third birthday for Dany's daughter Olga, and we were there for the birthday party. As you might expect, one of the gifts was a Barbie Doll. Dany’s sister Alexandra is called Ola, and her mother’s name is Urusla and is called Ula. Here we had Ola, Ula, Olga, and Dany, four beautiful ladies. Alexandra was a teenager with a beautiful smile in 1985, and now she is a beautiful young lady, as is Dany. I said that Olga is living proof that babies are lucky to have a beautiful mother, grandmother, and aunt.
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When we crossed the border to Hungary it did not take long. We showed them notes of the things we bought in other countries, and asked if there would be a problem when we left. The Customs man said no, then asked if we had gold, silver, guns, liquor or tobacco. He looked at the covers of the books we were reading, and that was it. When we left Hungary the next day, about a mile from the border we were stopped by a guard who wanted to see our passports. We waited an hour for our turn to move to the border, there was no reason for the delay, just policy. When it was our turn, they only took a moment, looked in a couple of drawers in the RV, and looked around inside. We felt the customs man was more interested in exploring the Dodge RV, than in what we might have with us. (1980)
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When we first entered the sanctuary of the Basilica of Fourvière, in Lyon, France, our reaction was one of genuine awe. The interior is almost indescribable, so we must quote from the tourist brochure: “The spacious nave is gleaming with golden light. Everything is ‘full of grace,’ of spell: the slender pale blue marble columns, the deeply carved cornices, the flowery cupolas sustained by angels; the enamel and gold show to advantage beautifully designed compositions. We are indeed in the palace of the greatest Queen.” Six wall-mounted mosaics, each sixteen by thirty-three feet, grace the walls with the most detail and color we have seen anywhere. Each tells a story, but the mosaic of Ste–Jeanne d’Arc, from Domrémy to Orléans to Reims to the stake in Rouen, is the one we found most interesting. (1983)
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When we first visited Leipzig, Germany, in 1991, soon after the fall of the Berlin Wall, department store chains from the West were already renovating existing store buildings. Clerks, customers, and carpenters wandered among racks of clothes and piles of lumber, the clack and rattle of jack hammers competed with the chime of cash registers. The longest line was at the employment desk. (1991)
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When we first visited Mettlach, Germany, (1970) we stayed 2 nights with Cousin Hugo. The next seven trips we spent 213 nights in the family home with Cousin Toni (Antonia). After Toni’s death, we spent 47 nights with Bärbel (that's her pet name, her real name Barbara, named after her grandmother), who by then owned the family home. The two-story row house (town house) built in Mettlach in 1815, has been the Herrmann family home since the mid 1800s. Two-foot thick exterior walls survived the bombs and grenades of both WW I and WW II, but in the attic, splintered rafters remain a token of war-time damage. In total we have spent 307 nights, during 9 trips at the homes of 10 different Cousins in two countries — 291 nights in someone’s bedroom, 16 nights in someone’s driveway, in the camper. Poor Cousins.
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When we got to the campground in Strasbourg, France, Emmy was tired, grass was green, water was wet, what else is new, and she was exasperated and exhausted. She took a shower, but that didn’t work right either. She had just experienced “one of those days.” But not too often.
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When we headed toward Kosmás, Greece, the narrow, steep, twisty road was very bad, at a couple of places the road had been washed away. I could see a small stream disappear and reappear from under the side of the road, so I knew better than to drive near the edge, as there was probably nothing holding up that part of the pavement. Some Greek had been so kind as to place small stones around one hole, so it’s easier for the next driver to see the road is missing. There is plenty of room for the whole RV in that hole! (1989)
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When we left the ship, SS City of Rhodes, at Herakleion, Crete, we negotiated for a taxi to tour the Island. We hired one for less money than the first driver wanted, the price was still higher than it should have been, we thought. I asked the driver why most of the taxis were Mercedes. He said many of the tourists are from Germany, and they insist on a German made taxi. This 1976 Mercedes (in 1989) has been driven 2,000,000 km (1,250,000 miles), and is on its third engine. It’s a taxi 24 hours a day, one driver after another. I calculated the car had to go 250 mile a day, each and every day for all those years. Doesn’t seem logical on this small Island, but it’s possible. We did visit the several thousand year old ruin of the Palace of Knossos, and found it to be very interesting. (1989)
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When we returned home in 1989 we found a Visa bill that corresponded with our month in Italy, including the days in Sicily. All of the charges for that month were included, gasoline, groceries, some campgrounds, cash at banks, and stores of various types. We computed our overall average travel cost per day (cost of plane tickets and the RV, divided by the 115 days of our trip), plus the cost as shown on the Visa bill for the month in Italy. We then subtracted the cost to live at home, and determined we had spent nearly a month in Italy, from the Alps to and including several days on the Island of Sicily, for $15 to $20 per day more than it would have cost to just stay home.
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When we returned to Edinburgh, Scotland, it was a really sunny day. Emmy dressed in heels and an attractive skirt (among other things), and went shopping for a pretty suit, on Princes Street. Found one she liked — that is she liked the suit OK, but the price scared her away. (1980)
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When we returned to Zermatt, Switzerland, by four cable cars from high on the Little Matterhorn, I saw a couple of young fellows trying to decide if they should buy tickets for the ride. I noticed ours were still good until 1:00 PM, (they cost $37 for two) so sold the tickets to them for half price. I gave them our home address and said if they had any problem with the Matterhorn tickets, just write to us and we would refund their money. Emmy thinks I was a meany, I think I was a good businessman. (1985)
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When we sailed on the “SS Star Princess,” one of the newer ships of the Princess Lines, the food and service were not the greatest. The ambiance of the outdoor buffet, was “early High School,” and the buffet food came in only one “flavor.” (1990)
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When we see these lovely old European towns with beautiful homes, churches, castles, bridges, and shopping streets, we often wonder if the builders specifically designed the elegance, or if they just built in the style of that day, and the beauty “… is in the eye of the beholder.”
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When we toured several of the French Châteaux, many located near the Loire River, Emmy said, “I like my kitchen better, my bath is nicer, etc.” As expected, the baths and kitchens in a 300 to 500 year old, 400 room mansion, do not have all the latest in fixtures and features, but her home did not have the statues, artwork, or the romanticized myths from days gone by. Well we did have a few myths, and romance beyond your wildest imagination. No, there were no romanticized myths in our house. (1980)
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When we visit a museum in any country, many of the items on display seem to be there just because they are old. Not because they are beautiful or useful or even particularly decorative, but just old.
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When we visited the Bibliothéque Municipale De Rheims, located right next to the southeast corner of the Notre Dame Cathedral, the sign said “Carnegie Library.” In the 1920s Andrew Carnegie’s group paid most or all the cost to build the library in Reims, France, as he did for hundreds of libraries in the USA. The city bus stop in front of the library was named, “Carnegie.” The Carnegie Foundation also paid for the construction of the Peace Palace in The Hague, The Netherlands, home of the International Court of Justice, and the renowned Peace Palace Library. The Palace, the premises on which it stands, and the Library are the property of the Carnegie Foundation. (1988)
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When we visited the Island of Lanai, Hawaii, in 1968, it was known as the Pineapple Island, and there was almost no tourist business. The only way to visit was by tour boat from Maui. We saw the miles of pineapple fields, and spent some time on the beach. We had to join a tour-group for the day, and if we still had doubts about us traveling with a tour group, this tour leader convinced us there was no way we were going to travel that way, if we could help it. We have joined tour groups for an hour or so in various places, but never for days at a time.
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When we visited the Jama (cave) in Postjana, Yugoslavia, our guide was a beautiful young lady, who spoke excellent English. As we rode the little train past the charming sights, Emmy said “Oh what beauty,” and I said, “Yes, and the cave is nice too.” When the train stopped, the guide said, “Follow me.” I said, “You didn’t need to ask.” (Yes, that’s exactly what I said!) The guide mentioned that one time while guiding a tour through the Postjana Jama, the lights went out for two hours. I stayed very close to her, just in case she needed protection if the lights failed again. (1991)
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When we visited the Sistine Chapel, in the Vatican, in 1980 there was scaffolding in one corner of the room, they were experimenting with a new method of cleaning the art on the ceiling and walls. A rail was then installed on each side of the Chapel near the ceiling, and a platform was mounted on the rail so it could roll to and fro, sixty feet above the floor. Ceiling renovation was carried on from the platform while tourists continued to gaze and gasp from below.
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When we were in Amsterdam, Emmy and the Lindas just had to find a restaurant that served Rijsttafel, the Indonesian Rice Table, with up to 40 dishes, most of which include rice in one form or another. That’s of no interest to me, so I just walked around the city. At one place, when my response to her age old “question” was, “I’ll have to ask my wife,” the streetwalker exclaimed, “You brought a wife to Amsterdam?” (1970)
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When we were ready to leave Paris after our first visit in 1970, we found no signs pointing out of town. As we drove toward Paris a few days earlier, plenty of large signs pointed toward Paris, but none point the way out. It was enjoyable just to drive and look at the way people worked, and shopped, and drove, but finally we stopped a policeman and asked for his help. He smiled, saluted, then took our little map and drew a line for the route we should take, and blackened out all the street names on our Paris map with his thick-lead pencil. We finally made it to the open country. These days, you could head in any direction and finally arrive at the Périphérique (completed 1973), the 21 mile freeway encircling Paris, and from there you can go round and round until you find the road to anywhere.
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When you near the top of a mountain in Yugoslavia, you can be sure that just around the next curve there will be a little old lady in the middle of the road herding two goats. Drive as if you expect that, and neither of you will be surprised.
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When you travel have your purpose, budget, and overall schedule well in mind. Once you decide what it is you want to see and do and what your schedule and budget will permit, don’t make changes without a good reason and then come home disappointed that your initial purpose was forgotten. If your idea of a vacation is to visit Roman ruins, or wander through streets of half-timbered buildings, or just to visit “starred” restaurants, or lie on the beach, remember, it’s your vacation, do it your way. We travel for the people, the architecture, and the geography.
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While at the top of the tower of the ruin of the Coventry Cathedral, in England, we met a college professor who knew my brother Johnny. One of the students with him, knew my nephew Charlie. Small world. Coventry is a city that was bombed so badly on November 14, 1940, early in WW II. Parts of the old Cathedral walls are still standing, and the spire is still nearly complete, and open for climbing the 168 steps to the top. After WW II, German citizens contributed money to build the very modern new Cathedral right next to the ruin, and the English people helped build a hospital in Dresden. (1980)
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While driving on a highway near Copenhagen, Denmark, we saw a huge tour bus, with an enormous windshield, coming down the road toward us, but saw no driver. Then we noticed the bus was from England, and the driver’s seat is on the right side of the bus. We’ve seen that several times, but we never learn, we are always shocked. One time a man was standing where we expected to see the driver, he was waving his arms, with a big smile on his face. That was a lot of fun for him, very scary for us. (1985)
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While driving on a narrow street in the Montmartre area in Paris, in 1970, near the Sacré-Coeur (the white church with all the slender domes), we found ourselves completely blocked by parked cars, people strolling through this Paris neighborhood, and just too many vehicles. For a moment, we expected to become a permanent display in the Paris tourist scene. When we finally got our vehicle’s right wheels up on the sidewalk, we could leave the area. It was a shame we couldn’t find a place to park, as the scene through the windshield while in the traffic jam, was one of the more famous views in Paris, with the sidewalk cafes, the curbside artists, Restaurant le Consulat, and the Sacré-Coeur just beyond. A couple of years ago FedEx used a photo of this scene as their advertisement, and we did walk through this area more than once, over the years.
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While driving through a small city in Poland we were given, and paid for in cash (maybe $5) right then and there, a traffic ticket for driving through a red-light. Want to bet the driver has an excuse? The crossing street made a zigzag, and I was looking ahead at the green-light controlling the traffic where that street continued to our right, rather than the red-light that controlled the street that joined from the left. It should come as no surprise to hear the driver received more grief from the passenger than he did from the Polish police. (1991)
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While Emmy had her hair “done’ in Corinth, Greece, I walked around Kórinthos and found it an interesting little town. I stopped in an appliance store, I like to see what is available, we get an idea of their standard/style of living. I saw a GE Refrigerator, exactly the same model (except 220 volt) we bought at Sears in California just a few months earlier. It was priced more than twice what we paid. Store owner’s name was Napoleon. He spoke English. Later I asked if he knew where I could buy a special 12 V bulb, needed in the RV. He said, "Follow me." A moment later here comes Napoleon, dressed in suit and tie and a "newsboy cap," riding on his little motor bike. We followed him here and there to several stores, no one had the proper bulb. He was very nice, helpful man, very interested in us and our mode of travel.
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While Emmy was inside a store, I noticed a commotion and watched while the Dubrovnik, Yugoslavia, crowd parted as if Moses was there with his staff. A lady, by herself, was walking down the street, a beautiful smiling lady, dressed nicely, not showy, and the crowd just melted out of her way, as if in awe. She must have been recognized as someone famous, a celebrity, but no one tried to talk to her or approach her in anyway. I could find no one who spoke English, who could tell me who she was. (1985)
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While I was in Calcutta, India, in 1946, I was surprised when I saw beautiful US Army Nurses, and Red Cross ladies, walking the streets. I was even more surprised when I saw little boys smile and wave to them, holler “Bakshee” (Hindi language word for gift) then holler other phrases containing four-letter-words, not usually said to nice girls. After they boarded our troop ship, during the trip home, I asked a couple of them why those boys said what they did. The Ladies responded, “The blankity, blank GIs told the kids that we would consider that a complement, and we would donate more if they said that.”
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While in Toledo, Spain, we visited the house where the painter El Greco lived and worked for years, on one of Toledo's most popular streets, Santo Tomé. Many paintings were on display. In one set of 12 pictures, each of the Apostles had small parts of each picture unfinished. For example, there would be a hand, but no fingers. He was known as El Greco (the Greek), but his real name was Domenikos Theotocopoulos. While we were there, some important looking government officials arrived in a limousine, complete with guards and guides. (1979)
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While in the campground at Nürnberg, Germany, our friends Elizabeth and Axel picked us up and took us to their home. Elizabeth works in the Government office, and Axel works in Public Relations. I told Axel about a cartoon where two men in a stable were cleaning up after the cows. First man: “I’m thinking of quitting this job and getting into public relations.” Second man: “Doesn’t seem like much of a change, does it?” Well, Axel laughed. When it was time to leave, we found they pay a monthly fee to a private taxi company, to supply their nighttime transportation. They telephoned, and the very-new Mercedes Benz taxi arrived and took 20 minutes to get us to the campground, next to the Stadium. The taxi driver seemed unhappy that he was going to a campground, of all places — undoubtedly his first fare to such a place. We had to direct him. (1995)
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While it would be nice to travel to all parts of the world, the cost to do so is out of our reach. There are thousands of places to (re)visit throughout Europe, and we will never see enough to satiate our travel and sight seeing appetite.
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While looking for a campground in Amsterdam, Netherlands, we talked with the driver of a restaurant supply delivery truck “parked” in the traffic jam in the next Autobahn lane. Since we were rapidly going no where, we stopped for gas at the freeway gas station. The man in the truck stopped in the gas station, said for us to follow him, he had one more delivery, then we could follow him to the campground. I soon recognized the Olympic Stadium, with the 30 or 40 feet high sign with the word CAMPING positioned vertically on the sign. We thanked the truck driver, and spent the night at the Olympic Stadium. We had seen that sign in the distance during our first visit to Amsterdam in 1970, but had driven right past the campground entrance. Guess who won a Gold Medal for a prize winning performance near an Olympic Stadium? (1985)
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While many campgrounds in Europe had marked camping spots and were very organized, often we just parked where we wanted, and ran the electric cord to the nearest electrical socket.
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While on a cruise ship in the Black Sea, I was describing the beautiful town gate in Markbreit, Germany, to some new friends. A lady nearby was just beaming. We then found she was a resident of this little city. The most fabulous town gate we’ve seen. (1989)
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While on our cruise on the “SS Fairsea,” we had a wonderful waiter from Portugal, named Dino. We had his address so hunted for his home in Cascais. We had exchanged letters, his wife Maria answered the door, invited us in. She “told” us Dino was working on the cruise ship, “Song of Norway.” He doesn’t get home often, but could not make a living if he stayed in Portugal. Maria can visit Dino’s ship after he is gone for a few months. He had asked, we had tried, but had been unable to get permission for him to move to the US. The apartment buildings in this area are built in a very solid manner, but there’s mess and trash all over the place. Inside, while their living room was very, very small, it was furnished nicely, with modern furniture, a large TV, and a loud stereo. (1979)
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While on the Island of Saipan in the Northern Mariana Islands, we visited Garapan Prison where Amelia Earhart and her navigator Fred Noonan had been held prisoner. Some people insist they were not imprisoned here, but an elderly lady who lived next door to the Garapan Prison, took us to their cells and told us she had delivered food to them many times. The prison ruins include walls, windows with bars, and full grown trees growing from the cells that have no roof today. This story was published in the Los Angeles Times, and I got a dozen phone calls from Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, and my Brother Jesse, who were all aware of Amelia's imprisonment and her grave, when they captured Saipan in WW II. One time I taped a TV program about her, so imagine our surprise when we saw a scene from the mid-1930s showing Amelia sitting at our desk, or at least an exact copy of our desk — no doubt about it. (1980)
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While our tour bus drove around in Odessa, Ukraine, looking through a window in one High School we could see a US Flag. Wonder what it was doing there, while the Berlin Wall still stood? Some ladies on the streets wore miniskirts, and there were boys on skateboards riding here and there, trying to do all those things kids in the USA do on a skateboard. Most of the buildings in Odessa could stand maintenance, or painting at least. One high rise (maybe 20 stories) apartment building had just unpainted rough boards as the railing on all the balconies. Both the boards and the building look many years old, it isn’t still under construction. (1989)
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While riding a streetcar in Dresden, Germany, (which had been under East German Communist government for 45 years), I talked to a group of college students. One young lady bemoaned the day to day decisions and choices she was required, or permitted, to make in a democratic, capitalist society. For example, she said, “Why doesn’t the Government just determine which TV is best, and sell only that one. Why must we select from a variety.” She was the only person who expressed this sentiment. She was but one of a group of college students who were anxious to express their opinions (in English) in response to my questions. (1995)
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While sailing in the Merchant Marine, we had weekly lifeboat drills. They would unhook the boats, and let them drop a few feet to make sure all was working. One of the knotted ropes that hung down from a cable into the boat, caught on something, I was told to untangle it. While in the lifeboat, slowing swaying over the Pacific Ocean, someone hit the wrong button, the lifeboat dropped, but I still had hold of the rope. Here I was swinging out over the ocean hanging on for dear life, someone finally hit the right button and the boat rose to where I could stand. I was so frightened of water that when the Merchant Marine enlisting officer asked me if I could swim, I said yes. If I truthfully said no, they would insist on swimming lessons. Who cared if I could swim, 5,000 miles out in the Pacific?
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While sailing on the Cruise ship, Mardi Gras, we visited Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, in the Virgin Islands. The main reason the ship stopped here, is for shopping in the couple of streets lined with jewelry stores. When shopping was complete, we got in a taxi, and asked to be taken to the ship. All of a sudden there was a voluminous cloudburst and everything was flooded, including the street intersection where the taxi ran out of gas. The driver had a can of gas in the trunk, then stood in water half way to his knees as he poured the gas into the tank. We made it to the ship, with little time to spare. (1975)
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While Trogir, Yugoslavia, seemed very different from Budva, just down the coast, it did remind us of the town of Sarlat in central France. We wonder if other people might have a similar idea. We visited several stores and bought bread and groceries, and fruits and vegetables in the outdoor market. This is just a very special town, unique and unexpected — a man from Germany, who we met in a campground, told us not to miss Trogir. The only bad thing is, just down the shore a mile or so is an airport. Airplanes would skim the water, right next to Trogir, on their way to the airport, and with all the noise we could almost see the old stone buildings cringe. (1989)
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While visiting St. David, Wales, we saw the magnificent cathedral, the beautiful little town, and green rolling hills to the horizon. A few years after that trip, the TV news included a story showing Prince Charles at the entrance to this beautiful old cathedral. That's all most people saw, but not us. Our ear “caught” the name and our eye “caught” the picture of the doorway of the cathedral, and in our minds-eye we “saw” the unusual three-dimensional wooden ceiling of the old cathedral; we “saw” the cemetery that extends down the hill right to the church walls; we “saw” the ruins of the abbey next door; we “saw” a row of houses, almost hidden behind hydrangea of various colors; and we “saw” an elderly lady polishing the brass mail slot in the front door of her old stone house. Name and picture catching, the everlasting joys of travel, an added reward for our years of travel. (1980)
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While walking on the 9th-century city wall at Dubrovnik, Yugoslavia, the wind blew Emmy’s blue sun-visor far to the ground below. I climbed and walked and retrieved it, and we still have it. I had purchased two blue visors in Athens, but lost mine in the Blue Mosque in Istanbul. Get that, a blue visor added to the other blue items of the Blue Mosque. In the morning when we arrived at Dubrovnik, the market place near the church was filled with fruit and vegetable dealers. By early after lunch the peddlers were gone, the garbage trucks had carried off the clutter, the market area had been cleaned and hosed down, tables and chairs were put in place, and Dubrovnik’s sidewalk cafes were again open and serving both locals, and the multitude of tourists. (1989)
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While walking through a crowded market area in Teutonia, Morocco, we heard a chanting murmur and saw a crowd of people coming down the stairway street. Then we saw a wooden coffin being carried down the stairs on the shoulders of several men. In 1986 at the World’s Fair in Vancouver, Canada, at the Moroccan Exhibit we described the scene, and they told us it was a funeral of a woman. The body was in a box so no one could see her shape, a man would just have been wrapped in a cloth. We soon boarded the tour bus for what became a long, slow, bumpy ride to Tangiers. The right front tire on the bus had a huge bulge, but they had no spare. Thank goodness they drove very slowly from Teutonia to Tangiers, and we made it all the way. The countryside, the farms, the buildings, the people, all looked very poor. (1979)
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While we didn’t spend enough time in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia, to become greatly impressed with the city, we received a good impression of some of its citizens. We needed some fluid for the automatic transmission so stopped at the Mercedes dealer. They didn’t have the type of fluid we needed for the Dodge, but a mechanic who spoke a little English wrote down the name of what we should ask for at the government gas station. When we went around the corner to the service station, the mechanic was there to make sure no one misunderstood what we needed. So kind of him to do that. (1985)
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While we have watched others undergo detailed customs inspection at the Los Angeles Airport, we have had no problems. One year I talked with a customs man, telling him about our trip, and after a few minutes he asked for my customs declaration form, signed it and told us to go, “… out that door.” Another year a lady customs agent talked to us for a moment, asked a question or two, then stamped our customs declaration, and sent us “… out that door.” The luggage still had not arrived from the airplane, so they didn’t even know how many suitcases we had, let alone what was in them. We missed the luggage inspection, passport control, and the rest of the mess. Perhaps it pays to look innocent, or maybe we look too dim-witted to be dangerous.
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While we visited the fruit and vegetable market in Lugano, Switzerland, we heard some noise and saw a tour leader angrily waving his colored umbrella, hollering, in English, for people to get in the tour bus, right now, or he would leave them where they are. When we asked what the problem was, he said never again would he lead a tour group from New York City. The bus was late leaving Lugano, and several people were loitering in the market place, rather than getting on the bus. They are impossible, and would not cooperate as members of a tour group must. (1985)
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While we were eating lunch in the Grand Hotel in Stockholm, Sweden, a well dressed gentleman told us a joke — “In America you have Johnny Cash, Bob Hope, and President Reagan. In Sweden we have no cash, no hope, and Parliament.” (1985)
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While we were in a cable car coming down the Schilthorn, in Switzerland, we met some people from Chicago, who told us about Raclette, a special Swiss cheese meal, and suggested a certain restaurant in Bern. We found a parking place in downtown Bern and meandered around in the light rain. Daughter Linda had written, in her best schoolgirl German, “Where is Restaurant Le Dezaley?” and now showed the note to a well dressed couple we met on the street. The man took Emmy’s arm, and the woman took mine, each had umbrellas, and the Lindas followed. They took us through arcades and malls, and up and down the streets of Bern and to the restaurant, except now no one knew where we had parked the VW Van. Raclette was ordered and enjoyed, and of course we found the Van. (We still have the notebook with Linda’s question.) (1970)
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While we were in the campground in Nürnberg, Germany, a man from the Netherlands was talking about the campsite facilities, and said, “They are better then the blue lights,” or something like that. In response to my question, he said that in the Netherlands, especially in Amsterdam, some restaurants (including McDonald’s) use that light to keep the drug users out of their place. Dark blue is the color of the vein in the arm of a druggie, and in these rest rooms they can’t find the vein, so must do that at some other place. We saw those blue lights in a restroom somewhere in Germany, and wondered about them. It was difficult to see anything in those dark blue rooms.
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While we were inside what the sign said was the “House of Marco Polo,” on the Yugoslavian island of Korcula, a lady from England was reading aloud from her guide book, “Marco Polo never lived in the house on Korcula.” But it was a nice old house and this gave us a chance to see what they looked like inside. Korcula likes to claim Marco as one of theirs, but Venice insists that while his family lived in Korcula for centuries, his mother was visiting Venice when he was born. (1985)
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While we were visiting in a Flea Market in Denmark we came across a “peace-booth.” They said they were against only US missiles, and said they knew nothing about the Soviet military, so wouldn’t and couldn’t have any comment about the Soviets. They complained that the US has enough nuclear bombs to wipe out all the people in the world, 10 times over. I said most missiles and bombs never find their target. I told them that the missiles they were worried about might not be all that much value in a war. At Cape Canaveral, Florida, where they spend billions of dollars trying to launch up-to-date rockets and rocket systems that are checked and rechecked micro-second by micro-second, they still have great problems getting them off the ground. I asked, “What do you think will happen with the missiles that have been in underground silos for years and years?” (1985)
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Wish we had a yardstick, or perhaps a tape measure with us, to measure the heads of cabbage being sold at one street market stand in Coburg, Germany. A twelve inch ruler would not have been long enough. (1991)
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With instructions from the Athens, Greece, campground office, we drove seven kilometers toward Kórinthos (Corinth), and there was a huge oil refinery operation where they were very happy to fill our cooking gas tank. The guard who let us in the place, the man who filled the cooking gas tank, the man who made out the bill, and the cashier who took the money, were all much more friendly than required, or expected — just typical Greeks. The time we got the propane tank filled in Florence, Italy, an English speaking man who ran a laundry next door, helped with the language problem, but the man who would fill the tank was not there that day. When we returned on Monday to get the propane, that man was not in his store. He had told his daughter to do the language bit for us, and she did. Greeks are not the only friendly helpful people. (1989-1988)
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Years ago our son-in-law’s father, as a very young man, worked at the Restaurant Biffi located in Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II in Milano, Italy. This was good training for the man who later was the Maitre’d Hotel in the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel, in California, for many years. As an example of what might questionably be called progress, a large part of what had been Biffi’s, is now a McDonald’s. At least we know where to find clean restrooms. After major damage from bombs in WW II, the la Scala Opera House in Milano was rebuilt, modernized, then reopened in 1946. Our son-in-law’s father and Maestro Arturo Toscanini each played an important role in that gala occasion. One toiled in the Lobby Bar, the other starred in the orchestra pit!
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Years ago when I often flew from Los Angeles to Seattle, the plane would fly far east of Yosemite, so we had an unusual view into Yosemite Valley, we could see the “other side” of Half-Dome. We also flew over Lake Tahoe, could see Mt. Lassen on the right, Mt. Shasta on the left, then Crater Lake, Mt. Hood, and Mt. Rainier. Perhaps the most scenic airplane flight in the world, especially in winter-time, and especially Crater Lake, with snow covered Wizard Island “floating” in the lake.
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Years ago, in Italy, tourists could obtain coupons from the Italian government for gasoline at a special price. In 1970, before we got to Switzerland we stopped to use the last of the gasoline coupons. As I was ready to pay with the coupons, a bystander who spoke English explained what this service station man was so unhappy about. The day after we bought our coupons the Italian government had raised the price of gasoline, and now we had to pay the difference. No wonder the other gas station attendant, a couple of days ago, was so unhappy. We never understood his problem, so he finally quit hollering and jumping, and just motioned for us to go. During our several visits to Italy in a diesel vehicle, no diesel coupons were available, gasoline only. In the years since they have canceled the coupon program. (1970)
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Years ago, on August 21, 1911. the Mona Lisa was stolen from the Louvre in Paris by Vincenzo Perugia, an Italian house painter. He thought he would be considered a national hero if he returned this masterpiece to Italy. He hid the painting in his Paris bedroom until the furor of the theft died down, then in December 1913, took the painting to Florence, Italy. Instead of being honored, he was placed in jail and the Mona Lisa was rehung in the Louvre on January 4, 1914. Various people have presented stories about the “Mona Lisa” smile. I like the cartoon that shows the lady with that enigmatic expression, sitting for her portrait. Standing near the partially completed piece of art, da Vinci is looking down at the fly of his trousers, saying, “You mean it’s been open all day?” It’s that kind of a smile, isn’t it?
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Years ago, we never knew what electric plug to expect at the 605 nights in 406 camp “spots” in the about twenty-five European countries we have spent the night in our RV. It wasn’t unusual to see a half-dozen RVs or trailers plugged into the same group of receptacles, each with a “Christmas Tree” of two or three plugs, adapters, and extensions to solve the electrical puzzles. At times our electric cord had to be rewired before we could hook up for the night, then rewired before the next night. At one place, nothing would work except to twist our bare wires with theirs. By 1985 all campgrounds were supposed to have the 2” by 5” blue, ground fault plug, but not all had them, even in 1995. Only about 10 different plugs remain in our collection, and we don’t remember how many we used from time to time.
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Zee end. Well not quite, but I want to keep it almost alphabetic, and I just thought of this one. The story is told somewhere above, that we took a group of Emmy’s elderly German Cousins for an RV vacation, to Vegas, Grand Canyon, and Lake Havasu, and more. (Lake Havasu is the current location of the London Bridge. It was torn down, each stone was labeled, then carefully reconstructed in the Arizona desert.) Germans very carefully use a knife and fork to eat their food, to the extent where we have watched them eat an apple without touching it with their fingers. You can imagine the look on Cousin Maria’s face when she was served an Egg McMuffin at Lake Havasu. Even with a knife and a fork it would have been difficult, but we all had to laugh at the look on the face of this very proper German Matron, the first time she had ever eaten breakfast from her fingers. I kidded her about this for years! (1982)
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Zurich, Switzerland, is a nice headquarters type of city with splendid office and store buildings. It’s not as touristy as Lucerne and Bern, it’s more like Geneva. At one place, the view as we drove across the river was so picturesque we had to find a place to turn around and cross again — to stop for a snapshot. We talked to a young lady at the Swiss Air office who had just returned from a vacation in the US. She really loved it, said the people were genuinely friendly and polite, and said that American drivers, especially in Southern California, were an agreeable, pleasant improvement over drivers in Europe. We stopped at a McDonald’s in Zurich for a McRib, and an Egg McMuffin, and found they had neither. (1988)
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How do I end a book like this? The idea was to present my love for my Most Beautiful Lady, and the fun we had in our travels, and I hope that I have achieved that goal. The biggest disappointment in our travels days? The ship we sailed to Istanbul and the Black Sea was originally scheduled to be a two-week trip, with one week in Egypt and Israel. Due to a war-like occurrence in the Middle East, that week was canceled, we never got to visit the Earthly Holy Land together. But we will be in the Heavenly Holy Land together, in the very near future.
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Sweetie noticed a brown spot on my back, that has changed a lot in the last couple of weeks, so we went to the Hopitaux Universitaires de Strasbourg, France.
Since this is a teaching hospital, there were three young lady students in the room.
The Prof. spoke some English, the girls spoke more, and they seemed to enjoy my sense of humor, now that I had an audience, … … !
Prof. Heid didn't think there was anything to worry about, but decided to take a biopsy. I took off my shirt, he poked me with a needle, then took a small part of the “thing” for the biopsy. (It was benign.)
That seemed to be all he was going to do, until I reminded the Professor that the shirt was off, the spot was numb, the knife was in his hand, so why not remove the whole thing (smaller than your finger nail), and he did.
I paid their bill, presented it to my insurance CO, and the cost to me was $14.
Tidbit by Jim and Emmy HumberdSimilar tidbits in: Book = Travel Snippets, Travel Tidbits
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