Travel

July 18, 2019  by

Hohensalzburg Castle: An unfulfilling checklist castle

What more can be said about Hohensalzburg than is already out there? Not much, in my opinion, other than the brutal review I’m going to provide you of the inside tour, which has been dramatically reduced to five rooms out of hundreds available. It’s not often I want to be Nicole Kidman or someone famous enough to get me access to floors and buildings off limits (not likely to happen in this lifetime), so all I can do is essentially grumble about paying the 30 Euro for our family, getting squished at the top of the tower with bodies, all jostling for the perfect selfie, then down again. On the bright side, we parked and took the ‘locals’ way,’ which made for new views and a quiet experience we enjoyed going up and down, which somewhat countered the lame experience in the middle.

Join me on this, our second and what is likely to be our last trip to Hohensalzburg.

Parking, right downtown in the locals’ area, the backside of the castle. The path is behind homes that lead to the castle-the occupants more than happy to chit chat as they water their beautiful gardens.
The road up and grounds

Neither have changed for four years ago. You can ride the tram up, saving yourself approximately 3,000 steps up, or you can take the leisurely route, which is longer, but in the shade and completely deserted. We encountered 4 other walks besides ourselves, two couples, both of whom stopped to grab a bite to eat on the bench and smooch.

Where the homes stop, this open grassland with bike/walking paths begin. A large home in the distance (UL), the start of the path to the castle (UR) and the four-corners path connecting multiple blocks.

Both tram and step walk are at the base of the castle; the steps are what we did on our first visit. This time, we parked on what I’d call the backside of the castle. It’s on the southwestern side, street parking for 4.50 Euro. The streets are quaint, full of locals, the paths to the castle occupied with families going through the parks. One right at an almost hidden sign lets you know this is it—the way up.

The trail up is paved and well lit, benches spread along the way. Since it’s not the main entrance, it’s quiet, offering plenty of stopping points to take photos. Nearly at the top, a view one can’t see from the front appears, which is an armory.

Seriously love the homes at the base of the castle (UL), the final walking rise to the castle (UR) and the tram in castle neither steps or path are your style.
The entrance and free areas

We beat the throng of visitors, arriving at 10:30 a.m. As we looked down the hill, bus after bus was dropping of streams of people who went single file to the steps. We were glad to already be at the top. The main courtyard and restaurants haven’t changed, and I will say my preference is the eatery on the second-floor landing which overlooks the valley.

Even though we’d seen the inner and outer courtyards, we walked in and around again, stopping to purchase our tickets for the tour. As we waited, we were bummed out to see the plethora of dogs that were on leash, but defecated all around the courtyard. While some castles have allowed dogs in the main courtyard area, few give dogs the general run of the place. This one does—and good for the owners, (we are massive dog lovers and love them). But seriously, responsible dog owners pick up the pooh, but not here. We were dismayed to be walking behind several who just dropped and walked—my phrase for the owner wasn’t going to bother and pick it up. What has happened in the last few years?

One tall set of blocks (UL), the first of many gated entries (UR) and my favorite–four different defensive entries, each another barrier to an invading force. What you can’t see is that each gate is an 18 inch thick rock–the doors have been removed.
The unguided tour

Our bad experience started at just after the ticketing desk. We paid, stood in line to receive the translation device, only to be told we’d have to wait for those in English, which wasn’t a big deal, but they had a hundred just sitting there. Worse, the man set “Get going,” as we waited for one to be cleaned and provided to us.

The last stretch to the inner courtyard (UL), a view from above (UR) and the main courtyard, unchanged from our last visit.

We just stared at him. Go where, exactly? One foot to the left so others receiving the French version?

Translators in hand, we went to the first room, the most interesting. It was a room with replicas of the cardinals who oversaw construction of Hohenzollern, accompanied by miniature models of the castle at various points in time. After that, we visited what would have been the salt room, for preserving foods. Then a long corridor, and a peek into the Organ room, housing the “Bull organ. The clergy ruler would have the organ play 3 notes alerting the townsfolks it was time to rise and get to work, and again in the evening, when it was bedtime. Talk about ruling the day.

It was interesting seeing the models representing each stage of completion over the hundreds of years–this is a great example of old meeting new(er).

The downside of this of this piece of history was the cramped 3-foot space where everyone fought to take pictures and keeping their ground while the throng behind us were pushing forward, trying to keep up with the auditory tour guide.

The first room of the tour, with rulers and to scale replicas of the castle at different points in time.

After that, we walked down a long corridor and into the torture chamber. That was more bark than bite, because our virtual tour guide said the room wasn’t actually used for torture, but to display the weapons to put fear in to the prisoners, who were actually held in a room below (not for display).

The pseudo torture chamber– the stones have been resurfaced and painted (poorly) but at least the grate to the left and below my daughter appears authentic.

A few pictures and off we were led to the highest point of the castle. Three flights of narrow stairs for the crowds going up and down, and then you arrive. A square area of stone, providing 360-degree views and in the center, a wooden platform (now reinforced with stone and metal). This can’t be larger than a 15×15 space, if that, including the stairs. Shoving, pushing, self-driven crazies. No time to really enjoy the spectacular prospect of Salzburg below.

Was it worth getting scrunched at the top of the platform? The juries out. I like Roger’s drone videos better.

I was so annoyed, me and the girls looked around, took it in, then got out of the madness. Rog fought his way up to the top, took a pic of us below and called it a day, vowing to get better shots with his drone, which is now up on my Instagram account.

A view on the back that never gets seen if you enter from the front.
Whew. It’s over. Time to eat

After that hour of our life, we were hungry and stopped at the Stocker which we’d seen while parking. The meal we ate made up for the latent grumpiness we experienced at the castle. Over amazing cold shrimp and cucumber salad, pork roast and schnitzel, we analyzed what went wrong.

Unregulated tours for starters, trying to pump as many people through as fast as possible was the culprit. Unlike Hohenschwangau, where the tour guide walked us our group of 10 through each room in the entire castle, and even the larger Hohenzollern Castle, which is infinitely larger, even there, the personal tour guide took our group of 12 through multiple rooms. Each tour was detailed, fulfilling, personal and guess what? The exact same price! Even the more visited Neuschwanstein Castle has a tour guide, granted, with 60 people, but at least that one is longer, detailed and fulfilling.

We get it. Castle tourism is a business, and Salzburg is a convenient destination outside Vienna. Mozart’s house is a draw, and many day trip visitors are trying to get both Mozart and Hohensalzburg in at the same time. But to those of us who desire a deeper experience, it’s pretty clear that only fame or a whole lot more money than we possess is going to fulfill that dream, at least with Hohenzollern.

The best part of the visit was the food afterward- or am I being too harsh? Okay, maybe a little, but the food at Stocker is really to die for.
What I liked

The grounds are lovely, and the back path to the castle calm and easy. I also must call out one new room we found which was free and unique–it’s the puppet room. These are life size recreation of puppets that kept the rulers happy. These are shown in a cave-like area within the castle.

The marionette area was pretty cool in it’s own batcave area.

The town below—be sure to go on the locals side—offers incredible food and shops.

What I didn’t

See the paragraphs above. Too many people. Touristy and unfulfilling.

Recommendation

Even with our disappointment, I’d suggest you go at least once to see the grounds and explore the area. If you are early in the season and have twenty minutes to spare, sure, do the tour. You’ve made it all that way. The best thing to do is set your expectations accordingly. Otherwise, save your money for a castle where you can have an incredibly rewarding experience that you’ll remember the rest of your life, and for all the right reasons.

Feature photo: taken from the perch atop the Hohensalzburg, and not with a selfie stick!
in Destinations 0 comments
July 18, 2019  by

Hotel Turnerwirt in Salzburg, Austria

A boutique hotel at an excellent location & price

To this point, we’ve stayed at four apartments, a hotel, a villa and two bed and breakfasts. We have a few more countries and accommodations to go, but I’m receiving quite a few DM’s on places we’ve rented, the logic and pricing. At the end of the journey, I’m planning on a roundup of lodging, but in the rush of our trip, can only write full reviews on places as they deserve it. In this case, I’m writing about a boutique hotel we’ve been staying at in Salzburg, The Hotel Turnerwirt.

The lobby shot, old Austrian charm with modern convenience.
Why a “boutique” hotel”

As a matter of policy, we don’t stay in large hotels on overseas trips. The local flavor is what we want, and this is better found with apartments, homes or B & Bs, but we’ve not had good luck with what is called a boutique. We think that’s a euphemism for odd; like the place can’t determine if it’s really a B & B, which means a more homey feel, but doesn’t live up to the services or amenities offered by a large facility. Since “somewhere-in-the-middle” has never really worked for me, we’ve avoided boutiques altoghter.

Enter Hotel Turnerwirt. We fell into this hotel because in Salzburg, rental units of any kind were impossible to come by, even before adding our criteria of parking, air conditioning and helpful things like a washer/dryer. For our timeframe, nothing was to be had, so we had a choice of larger or boutique hotels, and we chose the latter. We also desired a hotel within driving distance to Hohensalzburg, which this is–about five minutes. It’s along the bus line route as well, which comes frequently.

A helpful map of historical Salzburg, Austria in the hotel foyer.
Hotel Turnerwirt

This is a boutique because it’s a traditionally built set of structures operating in the Austrian style of service, which means food service on the bottom floor, a game room for children, reading room for adults, a garden area outdoors and another building for spa treatments. Inside the main structure are wide staircases but narrow hallways, one-room “apartments” versus rooms, which define a family living experience. Situated on a corner facing the mountains, streams on either side require guests to cross one bridge to park, and another bridge to reach the hotel. It’s rather romantic.

The dining room where morning breakfast is served.

The breakfast (not included) serves a traditional Austrian breakfast of cold-cuts, cheeses, breads, musli (granola) and poached eggs.

The convenience to excellent restaurants translates to a 5-10 minute walk in any direction, our favorite being Pizzeria gausthaus Schwaben, down the road and across the bridge. Hip, elegant and underpriced as far as we were concerned. Excellent atmosphere, just know the smoking shop right next door can draft more strongly as the evening wears on.

As usual, we were the early family diners. Nearly every table had a ‘reserved’ card when we arrived, and by the time we left, it was packed.
Schnitzel pre mushroom sauce (UL), fettucini carbonara (UR) and us girls
What I liked most about Hotel Turnerwirt

The location, local flavor and uber-helpful staff. Can’t ask for a better combination of those three elements.

What I liked least

The noise in the morning was pretty brutal. I’m not used to thin(er) walls and full families making a racket. Parking was also a bit tricky when we showed up after 7, but we improvised along the walls and made it work. Compared to most B & Bs, or even hotels, the $20Euro per person for the continental breakfast was a bit on the steep side, so we passed after the first morning.

Feature photo: from the Hotel Turnerwirt website
in Accommodations 0 comments
July 18, 2019  by

Tyrolean Alps, Innsbruck and Swarovski Headquarters

Sometimes, taking the scenic route reveals the most interesting of destinations. As we traveled from Italy to Austria, we’d inadvertently requested the shortest route in distance, not in terms of time to our final destination of Salzburg. We didn’t realize that meant up and over the hills of Innsbruck, the largest city in the Tyrol province of Austria, and the countries fifth largest. We’d already rounded a curve coming down the mountain and there it was, looming in the distance. Despite the rain, we jumped out to get the best view of the Bergisel Ski Jump Tower.  The futuristic tower has hosted two Olympics and many international ski jump competitions.

Summer is road construction time, and that includes multiple bridges. This is right outside Innsbruck.

We missed our window to go up in the tower and have a meal, worried that we’d miss our check in time in Salzburg, so on we went, having no idea the A4 would have saved us about an hour of driving. It was good luck, however, because while our road paralleled the major highway, we saw all sorts of global manufacturing headquarters and outlets we’d never have seen from the road.

Because the Tyrolean Alps sit high, even when descending town into the valley where Innsbrook is located, you get an idea of the massive size of the Bergisel ski jump. This photo was taken just off the road.

From pharmaceutical companies to high-end ski wear such as Bogner (oh! But it was closed!!), our favorite was the Swarovski corporate headquarters. We missed several of the attractions by minutes, but were able to see the grounds, the carousels, the expansive play areas for children, and of course, the shopping. One has to appreciate the marketing approach the Swarovski team has taken: lure them in with free or very inexpensive attractions and entertainment, making it a destination for an entire day or weekend. Kids clubs, summer camps and a hotel are also on the corporate campus (have you ever seen this type of thing at an Amazon campus? I think not).

My favorite image is of a massive crystal on the main entrance, glowing at night. It’s a literal beacon from the side road.

At the base of the Alps in Austria, off a non-descript road that parallels the A4. Who knew? Now you do!

Continuing on are dozens of bike manufacturers and other sporting retail brands we’d no idea were located within driving distance of Innsbruck and a few hours from Salzburg. If I spent much time in the area, I might have definite spending issues, so it was just as well the drive-through was short and it was past closing time for many of the facilities.

The Tyrolean Alps

Part of the fun on this stretch of the journey was going up and over the Tyrolean Alps and the associated small towns. Just on the other side of Innsbruck is Igls, overlooking the city and valley. Just five km outside the city edge, it has a handful of restaurants, a few massive homes, two grocery stores and a church, all within walking distance of several small hotels. We tried to get in for dinner but alas, it was a Friday and all the eateries were booked until closing. Next time!

It’s not always easy to capture the majesty of looming rock formations, but as a visitor, it’s hard not to take yet another snap when the rock faces, type and coloring change within a few miles of one another.

Our biggest mistake of the drive between countries was misjudging the closing of restaurants because each country is so different, we’ve had to remember or learn for the first time. Whereas Italians eat all day and late into the night, the Austrians shut down by 6 p.m. for grocery stores and eight-thirty for restaurants, unless the establishment is a bar or takes restaurants. Back in Hungary, it was late again but Germany and Switzerland were on the early side.

Right outside Igls is Patsch, and it was here we saw our one and only Polizei (police) car in Austria. A mini-mini van stuffed with six officers in uniform, who we later passed by as they ate outside a deli.

That meant we…yes! Stopped again at a McDonald’s café, where the girls have continued their love affair with ham and cheese fries, croissants and hamburgers made with organic meats. I tell myself we didn’t really come to Europe to eat at McDonald’s, but I’m not being fasicious when I claim their food here is an improvement on most restaurant food in the U.S. It’s all about the requirements for fresh and organic, two elements demanded by the Europeans.

The one and only church we saw in Igls, where members of the congregation were streaming out in the misty-rain after a session.
Feature image: a picture of the Swarovski jewel in front of the corporate headquarters.
in Destinations / Trip planning 0 comments
July 14, 2019  by

The many faces of Venice

Our adventure to Venice was planned with the intent of determining how much more existed to this famed city other than the Grand Canal and island hopping to Murano. Because of my stint in the Verona Hospital and recovery time, our schedule was cut radically short, so we knew going in this was going to be fast and furious. We needed focus. We needed energy and we needed good walking shoes!

One view from the top of the first canal as you leave either parking, train or cab drop off
Arrival and parking

If you arrive between 11 and 3, you are unlikely to get parking in the main drop off area, so be safe, park, and walk the quarter mile over the bridge into Venice. If you arrive late afternoon, then you’ll likely get parking right in the center, which is what we did. Two structures exist: one for short term (2 hours) and the other for long term. A single lane road is the only way to access both, but it’s short, about one feet in length. It’s a bit of a bottleneck, but an attendant stands to guide traffic, and if you want the two-hour, zip right and you are in. Payment is made when you leave, at the counter located at the entrance, so take your ticket and go on your way.

Nary a gondola or waterway taxi to be seen, and this is about two canals away from the drop off point.

When you arrive in Venice, either by car, train or boat, it may take a moment to notice the absence of bikes, a common site around Europe, not just Italy. In Venice, two-wheeled vehicles aren’t allowed, nor cars, which must be parked in one of several structures either outside the primary bridge to the island. Once off the long bridge to Venice, you will see a multi-story building, and parking spaces are identified by a space counter. We head others complaining about the lack of transportation on Venice, evidently expecting bike or scooter rentals and/or cabs, so I thought to write a note about this for the uninitiated.

This is actually the best shot of “the first” canal bridge in the upper right–you can see it leads several directions, and then down on lanes on either side of the canal proper.
Train

The train service is crazy good, although we didn’t need to take it. Multiple trains coming and going drop and pick up throughout the day, directly to this main area, where people in streams unload. One aspect that’s nice (and little known) is the cruise ships are on the other side of Venice, unloading at the docks. This means those arrive by car or train enjoy a much less crowded experience and more leisurely pace than the hoards of cruise lines passengers. The downside (isn’t there always a downside) is those of us in this area must walk a greater distance to reach the Grand Canal, if that’s the ultimate destination.

Less than 5 minutes from the cab and train drop off is this one and only gondola offering in this area. At 6 at night, it’s walk right up and in.
Walking the blocks

If you want to start off with a gondola ride, it’s less than five minutes from either the parking or train station right down to the only gondola. It has two slots, but when people are waiting, gondolas seemed to magically appear, leading us to believe a radio operator is ever ready to call in reinforcements. If a water tour is more to your liking, you will have to search elsewhere, for while many go by, the pickup/dropoff points aren’t in this zone.

To the right is right where you walk after parking/taxi or train drop off. Across the water are tables filled with evening diners. Not all streets have cafes next to the water–only some, and why the reasoning is a mystery.

With our feet as our guide, we started from the parking station to the first intersection of two canal bridges and a canal pathway. Our first stop was gelato, a must-have on a journey. One block down, another canal, turned left (because we could) and continued forth, zigging and zagging down every alley and main street, up and over a multitude of canal bridges. Going back to the no-bikes rule, even if they were allowed, bikes wouldn’t be much use: the bridges are steps, not smooth surfaces like Chioggia. Food services and goods deliveries are all done by ferry, mostly in the middle of the night and early morning when the tourists have long gone.

One block in, and on the right is a regular lane with more cafes. What you don’t see (or hear) was a man singing Italian tunes and playing a guitar rather romantically.
Another eatery partially hidden behind a iron gate, but open to the public.
Gyms and graffiti

Where do you walk down a canal, under the red brick archways into an open-door gym? Venice, obviously. And any respectable gym must have hip hop music blasting in order to use the weights and cardio machines located five feet from the front desk. It didn’t hurt the visual that the setting sun made the entire street and canal an orange red. In fact, it blended right in with the coloring within the gym itself.

Ok, really? Have you ever seen a blog on Venice post a picture of a gym? Neither had I, so this is it, and a rather glamorous looking one at that, don’t you think? And yes, about a half dozen folks were working out.

Around another corner and through an incredibly narrow street, the avenue opened into a triangular shape and a soccer ball came hurling towards my legs. A boy darted in front of me, kicked the back to his friend, the impromptu soccer game between four youth between ten and twelve seemed strange until I looked up and around. The buildings were decidedly familial, bars and crusted paint falling off and mail-slips. It was a neighborhood, like any other, except on a world-famous island in Italy.

And this! It shocked me more than the gym, because people want to look good, but the city fathers can’t take the time to remove graffiti, and worse, people desecrate the area? I’m all for artistic murals, but this doesn’t qualify.

As we continued the journey, a single avenue changed the entire experience: backstreet soccer game, graffiti-covered metal grates then a beautiful canal with upscale restaurants, then and open square full of hipsters and chill out music and back again. All this still a half a mile away from the Grand Canal main drag, and nary a non-Italian in view (except us). Because we arrived at about 6 p.m., our day spent in Chioggia to the south, the freedom of movement allowed us to cover a lot more ground had it been wall-to-wall tourists.

Think of this as the Venice outskirts, still good real estate with boats outfront but perhaps without the murals on the ceilings.
Just like every other big city

Where one lane is merchants, another is residences, some grand, but most not. Short, narrow doors are not images of Venice blasted around the world. If you’d not been to Venice before, it would be natural to believe every home is a three-story villa with hand-painted mosaics on the ceiling with gold leaf encrusted chandeliers. We watched a woman holding a bag full of groceries pull out her key, open and enter an unassuming door, her attire professional attire resembling a bank teller or shop keeper.

Like any city, different canals showcase a different style of property, probably reflective of the value.

Where in the world was the grocery store? I wondered, becoming completely distracted by the visual of how many canals she had to cross with that single bag. Second to that was imaging the size of the biceps on the average Venician residents. Yes, that’s the kind of thing an author thinks about, or at least, what this author thinks about.

The canal neighborhood where the kids were playing soccer.
Another home where we saw professionals entering and exiting.

This leads to touch on the subject of shopping. Whereas Chioggia had Italian brands with a smattering of name brands, Venice is the opposite: the majority of mercantile are well-known by the average consumer. Of the little overlap I saw, Venice easily had a 40% premium over Chioggia.

Just one street over is shopping and wide lanes, hotels and eateries.
The take away

If you have the time to take in the famous and not-so-famous areas of Venice, definitely do it, otherwise, it’s like thinking all of New York is Broadway, when in fact you have Central Park, Brooklyn and Park Avenue, each one providing a completing different perspective of a grand city. Whereas Chioggia was all Italians, (we didn’t hear another language spoken) Venice was the exact opposite. The streets were packed full of diverse ethnicities and languages with helpful tour guides translating, many also wearing translating devices around their necks.

I’d like to see those well-fed Merchants of Venice squish themselves down this lane.

Unless you are coming in from a boat, the ideal day trip is the morning for Chioggia and afternoon for Venice, thereby missing the worst of the crowds. You’ll be able to compare and contrast your impressions of the most famous seaside town in Italy, and perhaps the least, all in the same paragraph.

Not the Grand Canal, but a regular office buildings where staff park their boats on the water. It gives new meaning to the phrase underground parking.
Feature photo: a typical side canal in Venice.
in Destinations 0 comments
July 13, 2019  by

Chioggia: the “local’s” Venice you shouldn’t miss

When the architect and owner of the villa you have rented in Verona says you must visit Chioggia instead of Venice, you listen. First in disbelief (we’d never heard of it), then skepticism (until his architect wife chimes in, agreeing), and finally with an open mind and consideration.

“It’s only forty minutes south of Venice,” Stefano explained, “you must go.” As if sensing our reticence, he and his wife peppered us with the reasons. “It’s older than Venice,” he started. “And it’s a fishing village with real, working people.” Stefano added that Chioggia has the longest beach in Italy, better food and is far cheaper.

“It has the oldest clock in the world,” added his wife. “You will have a much better time in Chioggia. Trust us.”

The oldest clock in world, and in a town we’d never heard of? That sealed the deal.

Off to Chioggia

From Verona, Chioggia is about an hour and forty-five minutes. Long, flat marshes on either side of the low-lying bridge extend until it hit landmass. Coming off the ramp, the first images were…unexpected. Faded paint blended with clothes hanging on windowsills, the boats in the canals long past their prime, fish netting along the sides of the marina.

The main road off the freeway starts to resemble Venice a teeny bit more, only by virtue of the color of buildings, but the style, age and use dramatically differ.

Two rights and we were crossing the first canal bridge. While we’d heard all Stefano and his wife had said regarding an older Venice, we were still expecting….an older Venice.

One of the first views of Chioggia off the freeway. Unexpected, to be sure.

Chioggia is in no way an “older Venice,” if looks meant anything. The buildings aren’t newly painted and bright, but worn with age. Instead of canal boats with a black and white stripe-shirted rower, it’s ocean vessels worthy of a sea storm. The clothes don’t hang just from the window, but lines over the alleyways as well. If you’ve been to Venice, most of what visitors see is bright, perfectly painted and ready for the tourist. It’s only when you get off-off the main drags that you see graffiti (absent in Chioggia) but the homes are still a cosmetic upgrade from Chioggia.

Yes, Chioggia has canals, but it is a regular city as well as you can see.

Then we began to see the other side. Parking was free and plentiful right in the heart of town, exactly twenty feet from the oldest clock in the world. (Venice requires one to park, then walk). Across from the clock, stretching to the water and a mile in the other direction is what Italians call a Piazza- a shopping district. Like Bellagio, outdoor tables, under extended awnings lined the length of the Piazza. The shops are directly behind, the sidewalk totally covered in shade to allow a leisurely shopping experience. Bikes are welcome (not so in Bellagio) and the canals bridges are angled (not with steps, as with Venice) which allows for bikes.

Does this resemble a gondola from Venice to you? It’s so Seattle, I loved it.

The differences in the two towns were becoming apparent.

The world’s oldest clock and two girls from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.

Clock admired, photos taken and education gained as we learned a replica of the internal mechanisms are in the museum in Verona, but the clock itself is going like a champ.

Not the Grand Canal of Venice, but the intimate, working canal of Chioggia
Time to explore

As we walked, we waited for the beautiful canals full of tourist-filled boats to appear. Nope. Not a one. The canals of Chioggia are not what I’d describe as pretty. They are a bit murky and green. It’s the ocean, seaweed exists and this is a living system, not contrived into a fantasy environment. Bikers rode up and over the canals, fishermen trolled their boats out to sea, and as the sun set, the villagers living in the town began to come out of the homes.

Buildings are further apart, some canals have been modified and the styles are old and new, just like any modern city.

Watching the activity was like going on a first date with a short individual dressed in their parent’s hand-me-downs who was late for the date, only to notice the smooth skin of the face, bright, blue eyes and happy, embracing laugh.

Another working waterway heading to the ocean.

Along a side street, my girls spotted what turned out to be a couture children’s clothing shop at Target prices. We spent about 150 Euros on clothes that would have cost two grand in the States, if we’d been able to find them at all. More shopping followed until we joined a growing number of seniors taking places under the awnings. The crowd was a wonderfully mixed bag of what Dominic Dunn would have called “mature women” in full makeup and big, black and gaudy glasses sitting beside others who embraced their natural, wrinkly selves. They talked as much with their hands as mouths as their husbands in press shirts smoked, making way for continual additions to the group.

A young man, about 14, coming in from a ride, giving it all he can. Not something you’d see in “that other city with the canals.”

It’s not always easy to take photos of strangers, and sometimes, I prefer to sit back and observe, which I did, requiring to you visualize the experience. Yet as I removed my camera to take images of the food, I sensed a weirdness and looked up. Sure enough, a woman, leaning out her window was observing us. It had become a common sight across Italy; an open window with a look-e-loo taking in the scene. Of that, I did take a photo.

The Italian pastime — looking out the window to the piazza below.
A meal worth driving 90 minutes
The Sugar Cafe

Caught that morning, Rog ate a half dozen whole mini octopus, heads still on. It was mixed in his seafood salad, a sight my father would have crawled over shards of glass to sample. The girls had pasta dishes and Rog also ordered a fish carpaccio, which he’d never had before. Different from sushi, the white fish (we never did learn the name), Rog announced the platter size portion to be heaven on earth and consumed the entire thing himself.

Fresh and delightful– caprese (UL), fish tartare (UR) and seafood salad.

Dessert followed on a side-street, everyone having double helpings of gelato in different flavors. By this, our fourth day in Italy, the girls had a fair idea of approximately size and cost. Imagine their delight when the portions were about half again as large, and roughly a third the price of Verona, Soave or San Briccio.

What had evolved from an unexpectedly good first date was now an engagement-level passion with the town of Chioggia.

At the Sugar Café–note all the older folks closest to the storefronts–little groups of 3-5, all gathering, community style for their evening dinnertime social.
The famed beaches

Famous to who? We wondered as we drove the mile from our eatery towards the coastline. As you can see from the pictures, famous to the rest of the world of Italians, not to visitors such as ourselves. From one end to the other, thousands of umbrellas await the flock of crowds expected to descend in the next week as school gets out, then absolute mayhem in August. As we drove along the beachfront, we wondered about parking. While the streets were empty of cars at this time of year, and the inside/beach area parking also practically vacant, it wasn’t hard to image the brutality of high season. For grins, we checked out the parking fees, recalling how the last parking fee we’d paid in downtown Seattle was $12 US for an hour, this had to be comparative, or so we thought. Two hours here on the beach, roadside and 100 feet away is 4.50 Euro. No wonder the Italians in Verona love this town.

The beaches of Chioggia. I had no idea it was Miami, Italian-style. Although, I haven’t seen hundreds of cabanas, umbrellas pools like this in Florida.

We’d fallen in love with Chioggia, and didn’t even know it. As a family, we agreed to go back the following day, conduct more serious shopping and eating, which ultimately, didn’t happen. We all overslept, because we darted up to Venice to catch the setting sun and wander for a few hours. You can compare the two cities by reading the blog on the experience.

Recommendation

Definitely take the few hours to enjoy this essentially unheard of, overlooked and /or ignored town. It will open your eyes to a different side of the Italian world, one truly authentic and in its own way, inspiring and charming.

Feature photo: the canals of Chioggia
in Destinations 0 comments
July 13, 2019  by

Locanda ai Capitelli: the best dining in Verona

A family-owned and run B & B at the base of Castle Soave, overlooking the wine country

Two days after the hospital experience, we were up at Soave Castle, finishing up as the rainstorm passed us by. On the way down, we decided to purposefully get lost among the vineyards, driving up and down the roads just to see what’s around the next corner. We were only a few miles into this journey when we spotted a grand building to our right, overlooking three vineyards. The cars lining both sides of the streets was a good sign and we stopped so Rog could jump out and look at the menu. He returned, crestfallen.

Locanda ai Capitelli is located just to the lower left of this photo–but hadn’t found it when we took the drone shot:(

“They have steak tartar, but we aren’t dressed for it.” I looked past him to the elegant stairway and sure enough, the men were in slacks and button-down shirts. It was a stark contrast to his shorts and golf shirt, and our female attire of shorts and light shirts made for sweating, not dining.

“Just go in and ask,” encouraged Porsche, our thirteen-year-old. “It’s Italy.” I had to agree with her, but Rog wasn’t going to bother. He put it in gear and off we went, for about a mile.

“I just have to do it,” he said with resolve, turning around.

Back we went, and sure enough, he came out smiling. “She said ‘of course!’”

Casual elegance without pretension

It turns out the establishment of Locanda ai Capitelli is a bed and breakfast, not just an elegant restaurant. Once inside, we realized the only other diners were in a private room, the main area, about thirty by fifteen in length, was empty.

Perfectly situated on the corner of Castle and wine country is
Locanda ai Capitelli

“It’s early,” I said under my breath. At seven-thirty, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Dining in Italy starts about eight-thirty, when the heat has waned, showers have been taken and the second part of day begins.

Because of this, we had the undivided attention of the waiter and hostess, Julia, who is the daughter of family/owners of the B & B. A slip of a young woman, sophisticated casual in a black t-shirt and pencil shirt with high-top Converse shoes, Julia is about as millennial as one could be. Perfect command of the language, helpful and happy, yet able to handle even the pickiest of diners who started to come in as we were half-way through our appetizers.

The best meal in Italy—so far

Even though I couldn’t eat much, I tried a bit of every dish. The octopus in cream sauce sounded completely odd, but I ordered it anyway, along with the carpaccio. We also decided upon the black truffle linguini with clams, another of the same without the clams, a chicken dish, Roger’s steak tartar and I asked for the gnocchi with peas and trout. Weird, I know, but it was calling my name.

Octopus in cream sauce. One bite was all it took for us to agree it was the best we’d ever had, and that’s saying something.

“Just a bite,” I promised Rog.

As each plate arrived, Julia described the cows on the family farm from whence her mother and grandmother made the ricotta and parmesan cheeses, the desserts and cream sauces. The pigs down the road supplied the prosciutto, and the farm in back were to thank for the herbs and spices. When she’d gone, Rog quipped the very porcelain plates and silverware were probably forged in the basement. I’m not a food critic, and worry my descriptions won’t do the cuisine justice. Suffice it to say we loved every dish, wishing we had the stomachs to order more. I will note my freshly-made gnocchi was the best I’ve ever eaten, the trout was perfectly cooked in little bits, set off with the light, white cream and sweet peas. I wanted to lick the plate, but had to suffice with my spoon due to the recent stomach issues.

Gnocchi with trout and peas (UL) chicken fettuccini (UR) and steak tartar. Exquisite.

By the time we reached dessert, being hungry wasn’t the consideration. The family just couldn’t stop. We had a dessert sampler plate, along with the tiramisu. Now, I don’t get violent often, but when someone attempts to snack on my dessert, I’ve been known to stab with my knife, not enough to blood, but to warn the offending party off.

This time around, my inability to do more than taste undoubtedly prevented blood from being spilled, but it surely would have under different circumstances. The tiramisu was creamy, sweet but not overly so. I could wax philosophic but won’t.

Clean elegance in the wine country. Not pictured is a private dining room to the left of the entrance (where the man is standing).

Our meal was so decadent, the atmosphere elegant but not stuffy, Rog just had to inquired about the rates. 90 Euro a night for a room with accommodations for two. Imagine that: a room with a view overlooking the wine fields of Verona in front and to either side, the Castle Soave in the upper left, and a five-star restaurant below (the Gerdes rating system).

That’s a whole lotta love and cream poured into this tiramisu. Divine.
A family affair

When we paid the bill, the dining room was full and Julia joked about opening a restaurant in the States. “Sure,” Rog readily agreed. “As long as we can bring you, your mother and grandmother over to run it.” That led to me to ask if I could take a picture with my new friend. At the foyer, she met us with her mother.

“Grandmother is already in bed,” Julia explained apologetically. Kisses and hugs were forthcoming, the warmth of a family who put their life and love into their food and accommodations enveloping us.

The females of the gang, moms and daughters alike (Julia to my right)
Recommendation

If you’re already going to Verona, you must add Locanda ai Capitelli to the list. While I can’t speak to the accommodations, I will tell you it’s on our list for the next trip. When you arrive, give a special hug of love to Julia and her mother for us, and order the gnocchi and tiramisu. Well, order it all, because if you don’t, you will wish you had.

in Restaurants 0 comments
July 13, 2019  by

A visit to Castle Soave in Verona’s wine country

The hidden gems of Castle Soave

After three days in Bellagio and Lake Como, we were ready to head out of town. Because of the location we chose and the general road challenges that exist on Bellagio (no cabs allowed, only car and driver, walking or bike, and of course, parking limitations) we grew fatigued of trying to avoid getting hit as we squished ourselves against the walls as cars zipped by. And while I don’t mind a periodic good look at the rock wall now and then, when I can make out individual strands of grass as Rog tries to avoid oncoming traffic, it’s time to go.

The drive to Verona from Bellagio, Italy a straight and easy one, with the exception of several road construction projects that weren’t identified on either Google maps or our internal GPS system. It wasn’t a serious problem, but annoying when you lose ten minutes here and there.

In the San Briccio valley of Verona, heading up to our rented villa. This is a northwest facing view.
The heart of wine country

Located on the outskirts of Verona, both towns of San Briccio and Soave (pronounced So-ahh-veh), are both identified as Verona, and a suburb within. As such, the town is listed, and as a (VR) behind it. It would be like saying Russian Hill in San Francisco and the signs reading: Russian Hill (SF). The Italians make it easy so locals and foreigners alike understand where they are at all the time.

San Briccio is about fifteen minutes outside the center of Verona. The owners of the three-story villa we rented are both architects, and lived in this home as they raised their two children. When the kids became teens, the family moved into Verona proper, the “scenic” drive through the mountain roads too much, especially during high traffic times where the drive is more like forty.

The hilltop homes of San Briccio offer a 360 degree view of the valleys below–stretching northeast of Verona, pictured above.

Winding up from the valley through acres of non-stop wine fields, to the mountain top offering a panoramic, 360-degree view of the San Briccio valley below. We could see the neighboring town of Soave, and the fortress castle in the distance.

Free parking on the street (hurray), walking over a canal (upper left), the mainstreet at 4 p.m. in the Castle Soave township (upper right) and the walk to the end of the street. The building at the left is where you turn right, walk up a 1/16th of a mile and you are at the caretakers home.

On both sides of the hill are miles of wine fields, the area producing dozens of brands of vino. The surrounding hills have been cultivated in stair-stepped manner to provide the largest yield. We can appreciate the effort and beauty even if we don’t drink the stuff, but our wildest culinary dreams were met with the food, so don’t cry for me Argentina, we haven’t gone without.

From the caretakers home (left) and the less-than-steep walk from the lower village (right).
Castle Soave

Today, the privately-owned castle has a caretaker who lives on the property in a converted sentry house with his German shepherd. The entry fee for four, two adults and two children was 24 Euros (adults 8, children 4). The walk up from town is short and steep, but not too bad compared to all that we’ve ever done thus far. Once at the entry station, it’s less than a hundred feet to the primary entrance.

Set on the highest hill, Castle Soave’s fortress walls extend around the town of Soave proper, which is now converted shops and restaurants, although it’s home to several thousand full-time residents lucky enough to live with castle and wine country views.

Why it’s called a castle is unknown to all of us. The lone attendant within the Captain’s private chambers told us Castle Soave was used for centuries a military fortress for several reasons to protect the town from the neighboring community. It was originally built in the 10th century, the twenty-five-foot-high, two-foot-thick rock walls were built around the town to defend against an attack. Within the highest reaches, two floors exist; one for the Captain (the Italian version of a General) and then a lower level, rather small room for the guards. The remaining part of the rampart was all watchtowers and fighting stations.

From this areal view shot by my drone, you get an idea of the size of Soave proper, the fortress wall a clear line of demarcation.

The armory and guards station is rather small, with attendant saying the room slept only five guards at a time. The rest were on duty around the clock. The Captains private floor has four gracious rooms, the foyer, where he received his soldiers and visitors, his table and three-seat bench in front of a floor to ceiling fireplace. To the left is his bedroom, the ornate bed, armoir and facilities far fancier than the Prince’s rooms in Germany and Switzerland. The Italians knew how to carve a thousand years back! To the right of the foyer is the eating area then library. Up the steps from the library is the Captains private garden, a spot of greenery where he could presumably plot his next battle plan. To the left is the escape door which isn’t concealed at all. If the man needed to use it, speed was the factor, not illusion.

This is the Captain’s escape door off his private garden. It’s thought never to have been used. Little factoid: the last Captain murdered the ruling family in cold blood, ruled himself for 20 years, then was killed in battle with the sword. Served him right.
My favorite part

The best part of this inner military area was the prison. Approximately 100 feet high, all capital punishment was conducted in this chamber of death. The top three floors (each with levels) were designated for nastiness (beheadings, dismemberment etc.) and the bottom floor was essentially the pit where the castoffs, sometimes entire bodies, were thrown down. Then every so often, they’d light the fire, but nary a phoenix would rise from those ashes. The tour guide told us that when the castle was opened to the public, human bones dating from the 1300’s were found.

It was a bad day for a prisoner who displeased the ruling Captain.
The weather in wine country

We didn’t know the afternoon rains so common in Switzerland were equivalent in Italy. We were up on the ramparts, looking down to the valley when it started dumping. From the highest rampart, where we walked the Captains private gardens and escape door leading directly out of the castle, down to his entrance, we were soaked through. But it was so warm that our clothes were dry and hair frizzy when we reached the car.

The upper courtyard, and steps leading to the Captain’s private quarters. The door below is for the soldiers who rotated eating and sleeping shifts in groups of five.

With the weather once again cooperating, we walked the streets, enjoyed our second serving of gelato and appreciated yet another town that seems to have been passed over by every tourist, “influencer” and Trip Advisor writer.

The Captain’s private dining room (upper left) the guards rooms (upper right) and the first courtyard leading to the upper courtyard.
What I’ve loved about the area

Finding a castle that’s rarely written about, seeing miles and miles of Verona, the old and new, past and present.

The Castle less-visited: with tourists sparse, no ticketing agent, metal detector or guide. Just walk up to the care takers office (where he sits with his dog on the floor) Upper left. The second doorway has a downgate, not a drawbridge, but includes a standard door for good measure. Me squatting so you can see the better view of the town behind me.
What I haven’t

The bugs! Oh. My. Gosh. Why hasn’t a single person in the history of man written about the ‘no-see’ems’ that come out when the heat of the day starts to ebb, changing from blistering to merely humidly hot? It’s so bad that in the thirty seconds it took to walk from my car to the front door, I got nailed by seven little wizards of torture. When we were at the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions (from the next blog on the unexpected Italian hospital visit I had to make the second day here), the pharmacist asked if we’d been bitten at all, and we nodded vigorously. She produced a tube of cream that I have carried everywhere for three days, applying to the red dots of purgatory on all of our skin.

Recommendation

You don’t need to be a lover of wine to enjoy and appreciate Verona. It’s centrally located to zip down to Milan, over to Venice and not far from Lake Como. We are headed next to Salzburg, Austria, which is about as far as either Milan and Lake Como at three and a half hours. Definitely plan a few days, perhaps at a bed and breakfast or home to really soak up the local culture.

Feature photo: shot from the village walking up.
in Destinations / Travel 0 comments
July 13, 2019  by

An unexpected hospital trip

One of my personal jokes has always involved the notion of being in a foreign land where I don’t speak the language and need to visit the doctor. Well, “We mock that which we don’t understand then we get to experience it ourselves,” as I wrote in my novel, In a Moment.  At the time, I was going through quite a bit of self-reflection, but in no way did I think I was going to have a chance to confirm this statement.

Unlike the ER waiting room, the diagnostics area was vacant. Rog prowled the hallways like a lion in the Serengeti looking for snacks at 3 a.m.
Ignoring the pain

My husband calls me stubborn, but I like to think of myself as the anti-whiner. In April, an older Mayan woman gave me a traditional healing massage while we were in the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico. As I was on my back, she pressed on my lower stomach and it hurt. Bad.

“You have stress,” she said in broken English. “No stress,” I assured her with a laugh. Yes, I felt the same knot she pressed, but it hadn’t hurt until she pushed, and I certainly didn’t buy in to the idea stress caused a temporary ball in my gut. Honestly, I just thought my growing tummy was “a woman thing” and I wasn’t going to waste my time or a doctor’s only to be told I needed to eat less cheese. I went home and ton with life, not giving it another thought unless it was for vanities sake. The waistband was a bit tighter, but it was the cheese, right?

Was to cheese or a bad case of indigestion? My brother suggested pregnancy but no.

So here we’ve been huffing it around Europe for two weeks, walking quite a bit. My midsection had gotten a bit bigger, but I chalked it up to eating, that is, until my husband pointed out that wasn’t really eating at all. I had to think about that, and it was true, I’d not been my normal, Sarah-self-of-culinary indulgence. In hindsight, it hurt to eat, so I just ate less. Around the time of this discussion, I realized I’d not been drinking much either, and since I’m a water girl, I’d been developing dehydration headaches. Nonetheless, my goal was to see as much as possible every day and not talk about my innards, which is never a fun family dinner conversation topic.

The crisis moment

The day we arrived in Verona, my body was angry at me. I hurt the entire drive, constantly switching positions in the car, declining food and water, hoping the increasing misery would go away. I assumed I’d been in the car too long, the twists and turns of the road from Bellagio pressing against my stomach the root cause of pain. I helped unload the car and walked up and down the three-story villa Rog had chosen, feeling worse by the hour. Shooting spikes traveled down both legs to my feet, cresting over my hip and down my butt cheeks, but even then, I thought I was tight from sitting. It wasn’t until I stood and my vision became blurred, I could barely walk that my husband called up our doctor back in the states. He listened to my symptoms, including my distended stomach and told me to get to the hospital immediately.

Alien twins never looked so good on a human, at least not at 4.5 months, right?

That was at four in the afternoon, yet we didn’t arrive at the hospital until 10. The intervening hours were filled with Rog boing back and forth with Blue Cross/Blue Shield back in the States. A process must be followed, we were told, the care providers in Italy linked to BC/BS or else we’d get the bill. When we were finally assured I’d be fully covered did we pack up the girls with items for a potential overnight and get on the road.

The waiting room and process, Italian style

Fortunately, Ospedal (Hospital) San Bonifacio was the closest and newest facility in the entire region.

The waiting room was interesting, because admissions had one, non-English speaking staff member. I ushered the girls to the only seats available as Rog waited in line. Through a double door he went, but not before another gentleman who wanted to cut in before Rog. As I watched the interaction, I thought about a universal truth: “No,” is understandable in pretty much any language.

After fifteen minutes, Rog called up Stefano to help translate. As I stood beside him, I nearly fainted. That was the signal for the attendant behind the plexiglass partition to do something more than keep repeating: “No English.” As I teetered into Rog, a male staff member appeared who asked about my condition in thick, but understandable English. Rog explained I might have an abdominal tear, and if the small intestine went through it, the effect could be sepsis. The man immediately requested another nurse to help me back through the doors. I’d made it in!

Slow but thorough

What I got was a gurney, which spared me from passing out. Left alone for thirty minutes, I contemplated how this was definitely going to end up in one of my books, assuming it turned out well. All sorts of plots occupied my mind, distracting me from the pain until the male nurse returned. He asked questions as he gradually pressed what we both thought were my intestines back into my gut. If you think that sounds gross to read, it was gross while he was doing it. Plus, it hurt like the devil, and I couldn’t stop the tears of absolute anguish as he massaged and pushed around my innards.

My stomach reduced in size about half-way, but I felt quesy.

“That feels better, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” I grimaced, but at least my belly wasn’t sticking out like Kuwato alien from the original Total Recall movie.

Nearly an hour passed before until I was led in to another room staffed the senior ER doctor, and a visiting doctor who translated, along with the original two nurses. The room was set up for triage, but also had the makings of an office, because a doctor sat at his modern desk, typing on his computer, the printer behind him periodically spitting out documents.

Once I was laid on the gurney, he spoke, and another doctor beside me translated as the senior ER doctor typed. Rapid pace, we went back and forth. All the while, the two nurses went about their tasks, drawing blood from one arm, the blood pressure from the other, each having their role, moving quietly, efficiently and without a pause in the flow. When I asked the physician by my side where he was from, the handsome man only told me he was from Morocco and I got the hint: don’t make the small talk with the team, let us do our job.

Questions over, the silver-haired dr rose, coming bedside. He pushed my guts around, inflicting more pain than the nurse, but with purpose. When he’d finished, he was back at the computer typing. I was then informed I’d be going up to receive scans of my internals, which would be conducted by another physician.

That began a 90-minute wait, half on a gurney, the other half in a solitary area with my family. It was at that point I thought: “Arg! I need to be one of those crazy wanna-be documentarians, because I should have been taking pics along the way.” I took two pics on my iphone then put it phone away. From the discussions that had occurred, I had bigger things to worry about than the missed photo opp of the crammed waiting room.

Growths, eggs and pain

Once the female physician had me lie down, she said straight up she didn’t see a bulge. That was depressing. Was I that fat she couldn’t discern the alien bump protruding straight up and out of my belly button?

I wasn’t going to debate the bump or pain, and just told her what the previous doctors said. She whipped out the topical goo, spread it on my stomach and ten minutes later was on the phone with the supervising ER doc. She’d found two, egg-size tumors in my stomach, although she was quick to point out that it be unknown if they were benign or cancerous.

The next stop was back to the supervising doc, who personally escorted me, Rog and the girls three floors up to the gynecologist. This older man was very refined, and I wanted to compliment him on his choice or colored glasses and cool watch, but I was a good patient and kept my mouth shut. (Readers of my novels know this was hard for me because I have a thing for watches and glasses, sometimes calling them out too much).

He did the full-monty exam on me, politely inquiring why it had been three months since my last exam, then following up his question with dismay that in America, ultrasounds on females during annual exams aren’t required. Here they are. Had I had one, my tumors might have been caught when they were much smaller. Now major surgery might be required.

After he’d remeasured and reconfirmed what the prior Dr. had found, he went a step further, telling me all about the myomas (tumors), the percentage that were cancerous (1%), the “nasty infection,” I had because they have been seeping toxins in my body, and the reality I’d be in ongoing pain and wouldn’t be able to eat or drink much until the surgery occurred.

“What do I do about the pain?” I asked him.

He blinked. “Take ibuprofen.” When I started laughing, it was one of those bordering-on-hysterical sounds that break glass and kill relationships. “Maybe I can give you something stronger.” It wasn’t until I filled the prescriptions for both infection and pain that he’d prescribed a granulated mixture of Ibuprofin plus something extra, but since I don’t read Italian, I’ve got no clue. All I can tell you is the moment the liquid hit my tongue, it went number. I have a pack of 60, which I keep on me at all times.

The finish line

Back down we went to the ER doc. By this time, Rog had gotten him chatting about motorcycles, and I believe when the man realized us American’s weren’t going to stop trying to speak bad Italian, he started speaking pretty good English! I suppose in the first few hours, he suspected I might be in and out, therein using the other doctor to speed up the process. Now that I’d taken up the majority of his shift, we learned about his travels, his love for fast automobiles and what in the world I was going to do now.

I thought I was all done when the nurses reappeared on cue, and IV was set up and one told me it was pain medication drip, which would also help with the dehydration.

The ER doctor sat at his desk, which was actually located at the end of the patient’s room where most of this took place! Nothing like Italian efficiency. A printer was behind him, he did all the computer work himself, and at the end, while Rog kept chatting him up, he assembled the documents and scans from the ultrasound, stapled it and asked Roger how he’d like to pay.

Rog stopped cold, like the blood in my veins. Wha..wha…? Beyond the fact I’ve never seen a doctor do all the paperwork, a printer in a trauma unit and using a stapler, he was ready to take our money. Then we braced ourselves. Rog accepted the documents with the grace of a rat facing a viper, rather tentatively. He stared, I waited, the doctor was already working on his computer again.

“It’s 117.62 Euro,” Rog repeated, as if making sure it was correct. The doctor nodded without looking up. “Cash or credit?” was Rog’s next question.

And that, my readers, was the shock of the world. Not that I’ll need surgery and egg-size aliens making me look five months pregnant. Nope. It was the beauty of socialized medicine. Just the admittance alone in the states would have been @2K. Add on that all the doctors, the tests, the procedures, and we estimate the bill in the US (pre-deduction and insurance) would have easily been in the thousands.

Roger paid, and the man physician handed me the entire set of paperwork. Then, in the ultimate of wonderful gestures, he walked us to the emergency room and out the front doors. Where in the world does this happen at a medical institution where the commoner (us) doesn’t have the last name Bezos or Gates, and certainly hasn’t gifted the place a new wing. I’m not sure the $117.62 Euro was the reason; I believe this is standard Italian protocol; professional to the very end.

The best part was yet to come

You can imagine my relief and distress on the drive home. Forty-thirty in the morning, the family was wired and hungry. We stopped at an all-nighter restaurant and had pizza. Well, they had pizza. I watched. The next few weeks were going to be brutal if the doctors were to be believed. But going home ceased being an option when I realized I wasn’t at risk of immediate death; this was money spent and time allocated. No way was I going to ruin our vacation. I was just going to follow the gynecologist’s wisdom and essentially suck it up.

That night, I informed my mom and church leaders of my situation, asking for prayers, and that’s when the miracle happened. I woke, expecting the brutal pain, and had none. We weren’t able to fill the prescriptions for another day; each and every hour I braced myself, believing my body was going to revert back to its state of the prior day.

It never happened.

Rog didn’t believe it, nor did the doctor on a follow-up call, but I did. Mom and telegraphed my request to all the family members on both sides, aunts and uncles, children and down the line, the equivalent of the mayor calling the bat phone. The church leaders did the same. The prayers of many were felt by the one: me. It’s now day three. Instead of lying on my back, I’ve been able to walk. No, I can’t eat solids, because that causes immediate pain, but I can drink limited juice and sip light soups, which is a lot more than I could previously.

There was another thing. What we initially thought the time lag in getting to the hospital was a detriment was a blessing in disguise. The Moroccan doctor would not have been on staff, nor the senior ER physician or nurse who got me in so quickly, because they worked the 8-8 shift. Had we come earlier, who knows what we might have encountered? Further, the gynecologist said this was his single night of the week when he worked. His perfect English, and ability to conduct such a thorough exam and to equip me with knowledge and a path forward calmed my fears. 

Although I’ve been joking with Roger that this is my version of a European fat farm, (because I’ve been wanting to lose twenty pounds for the last four years), what I’m really thinking is that God knows I exist. He cares for me. He answers the prayers of his children. That I am loved.

So instead of asking ‘why did this happen to me?’ I thank God for the experience and the little blessings along the way which made a hard life moment a little easier. Most of all, I’m grateful for the affirming power of prayer and His ability to answer.

in Health & wellness / Travel 0 comments
July 11, 2019  by

Bellagio, Lake Como

As we hit the hills around Lake Como, the longer switch-backs now single-lane, curvy roads requiring a whole lot of skill to avoid either rock wall or another automobile. Now that we were officially out of the Alps, into Italy, I downloaded the photos of the Alps onto my computer and started fresh, as is my protocol, then started a new.

Shortly after crossing the border from Switzerland to Italy, this fixture on the horizon appears – and you know you’re in Italy!
Lake Como

The size and scope of the lake usually takes first-time visitors by surprise; Menaggio, Lugano and other inlet towns dotting the lake have their own unique vibe and attraction. We’ve gotten to know each more intimately during our travels, which changes if looking through the lens of having teen and pre-teen children in the group.

The waterfront road in Menaggio; wide, relaxed and the vibe easygoing.

Menaggio is the first town you will reach, its small waterfront area having a street or two of shops, as well as restaurants. One of the four ferries used for reaching Bellagio is in town, but be warned; the ferries only allow about eight cars, so you will be waiting an hour if you don’t get your place in line. My favorite aspect of Menaggio is taking the short walk (or drive) nearest the ferry because the waterside villas are massive, ornate and the grounds worth writing about. In my novel, A Convenient Date, Rick and Kaitlyn are in Switzerland for a business meeting, have a free day and he takes her to his childhood home in Lake Como. A few of these photos are the ones I used to inspire my descriptions. During that original trip, I neglected to take photos, but this time around, I did.

The villa directly across from the ferry in Menaggio

Lugano, further down the lake, is larger, the residents spread in the hills and has a denser downtown area, yet because of that, it loses a bit of the small town feel. On the upside, it has fabulous high-end shopping at half the price of Bellagio, so unless you want to say you specifically purchased your Hermes in Bellagio, do your pocketbook a favor and purchase it in Lugano.

If you are a first-timer, check out Rick Steve’s commentary on which city to visit first, and how to get there from your starting point.

Notice the slight difference in road width from Menaggio vs Bellagio? The above is a typical road in Bellagio, and what my daughter is doing was what all pedestrians must do–hug the wall so as not to get clipped by a car.
The scenic route around the lake or the ferry?

Once we decided to explore the lake and drive around the southern tip in order to reach Bellagio. That was a hair-splitting four and a half journey we’ve not made since. The ferry ride for 4 in a car was 28 Euro and took ten minutes, which we learned on the return ride after we’d spent the day on the peninsula (which is how Bellagio is typically called).

Lake Como from the sky as we took the ferry ride to Bellagio.

Today, we were second in line for the ferry, allowing Rog to send the drone up and over to our intended destination, and me and the girls to chat up a wedding party of girls. Sometimes, ferry’s with short rides don’t allow auto passengers to get out. This one does, and we took advantage of no-rule rule to walk around.

This is a view of Menaggio from the air. We shot it while waiting for the fery, which you can see is docked about mid-way in the photo. the villa I used as inspiration is right behind it.

Parking and walking off the ferry all happens in the same area, providing you with options. To the right, can walk down the quarter-mile, two lane white gravel path to sit under the blossoming white and pink trees nearest the water or on the grass, the shade provided by massive beech trees. City architects have made this picture perfect, as the center islands area bunches of colorful flowers and half-circle walkway extensions over and into the lake allow for the perfect pictures of either Menaggio in the background or the Bellagio center. This ends at the entry point of the expansive Giardini di Villa Melzi, and if you want to reach the other side (where our flat was located/the market square for locals), its faster and flat. Otherwise, you are walking on the road, up and around, taking your life in your hands.

Three views of the walk way going in to Bellagio–all taken from the perspective of the
Giardini di Villa Melzi
A large villa overlooking the town of Bellagio and the main square
Bellagio proper

Now that we’ve been a few times, Rog and I have a different perspective than the first time. Whereas we were overwhelmed with the quaint main center, steep paths leading through the narrow buildings, gelato and shops, we now realize something so obvious it’s a little embarrassing to admit. The “picture-taking-tourist-zone” consists of literally two roads, two steep paths and the waterfront path I just described. It’s basically a big U-turn you are going to walk. These are relatively crowded, everyone with a phone in hand, taking selfies, eating gelato and buying scarves.

The shops close at 7:30–this was taken about 8:30 p.m. The restaurants are still open, but gelato and all the other stores closed. It being July, the crowds were manageable. That won’t be the case in another month.

We watched (and then did it ourselves to revisit our first experience) tourists disembark from the ferry. Instead of turning right, you turn left of Via Lunga Lario Manzoni and begin your exploration of the inner Bellagio. If you are following a map, continue on Via Lunga Lario, and assuming you have the strength not to imbibe on pizza or gelato, take a right on Salita Serbolloni, and up you go until you reach Via Guiseppe Garibaldi. This is the only road paralleling Lunga Lario, and it’s a T. You can go right, but the shops end about fifty feet down. The only course is to turn left, enjoy the tiny wine, meat or cheese shops, pause and take a picture at the most crowded place on the peninsula (because looking down, the image offers both narrow street at the lake beyond). After that, you turn left down Salita Bento Conzi Di Cavour, the second steep steps and you are right back on Via Lunga.

Yet another villa on beautiful Lake Como.

From there, you head back on Piazza Giuseppe Manzini. This is the same road as Via Lunga; the reason for the name change is that shopping districts in Italy are have the name Piazza in the front as the designation to identify it’s about shopping. Awnings extend from the buildings which offers a welcome relief from the heat of the day. Tables are set closest to the street but still under the awnings, the pedestrians walking between the tables and heading into the shops. Yes, we’ve purchased leathers and watches in Bellagio, because some good deals and lovely items are to be had, but we know when to wait and when to purchase.

The narrow path in Bellagio less traveled. This is totally common outside the “U-turn” as I call it.
The real Bellagio

No, not really. Bellagio offers many more restaurants and shops, but the truth is that tourists are usually walking and don’t bother explore either.

With the two main hotels a hundred feet from the ferry, and waterfront restaurants, you can literally spend your entire time within about 5,000 square feet of the Hotel Excelsior’s front door and be completely satisfied with your trip to the famed Bellagio shops on Lake Como.

This building is adjacent from the marina above, one of the many hidden marinas not far from the glitzy Via Lunga, but taking a few side streets open up the gems of every day Bellagio.

Ever the contrarians, we went for the anti-Bellagio experience this time around. We rented a top floor flat in a Bellagio neighborhood full of locals about two hundred feet from the waterfront, about half a mile from Bellagio center. This required we walk through tunnels, up and over bridges, using the 700-year-old lanes so narrow I could touch the rock walls on either side when extending my arms.

Unless you want to pay 10 Euro to walk one-way through the Villa di
Giardini di Villa Melzi, you will be walking on the road to Bellagio. This is about 1/4 of a mile from the center.

Butcher shops in a space no bigger than bedroom at home provided hand-cut prosciutto for our breakfast, a kitchenette size restaurant in an alley filled served diners on metal chairs and a table the size of my lap, all that was needed for two plates and lots of wine glasses. Laundry hung two and three floors above us, out of sight until we looked up, hearing the squawk of birds. Three babies in a nest were being fed by their mom, which made us wonder about the cleanliness of the clothes hung out to dry. It doesn’t get much more real than that.

One of the many inlets we found simply by wandering our neighborhood in Bellagio. The water was brisk but swimmable–the wind invariably picking up around 3 p.m.
Marinas and waterfront bathing

One of the appealing aspects of renting a unit like we did was the community “square” right down our street. We’ve found so many squares in Italy are based either right of front of, or nearby, a large church. This held true in Bellagio. Our first night was punctuated with the sounds of a big party. We unloaded then went exploring.

The community church near our flat where the party went down!

Sure enough, in front of the church was a basketball-size square, with community tables set up and a massive buffet-style offering. A band played regional music on a temporary platform, the tanging white lights straight out of a movie set. As the adults drank wine and engaged in lively discussions, teens lounged against the thick, stone perimeter of the marina below. It wasn’t exactly ideal for our girls, but was fun to take in and experience.

This lovely beach is free (as all the hidden ones are free vs for pay elsewhere in Italy), and has an eatery steps away. Another area found by walking around.

A bit more walking (about two minutes) and we discovered a connected area of sloping gravel and pavement which had a t-shaped dock attached. The following day, we returned to find the area sparsely populated, even though it was about 95 outside. Our girls jumped the dock, then followed the locals by hurling themselves off the high rock walls in to the lake.

More steps! A short cut connecting the waterfront, local road to the (only slightly) wider road used by cars above.

Later in the day, we continued our waterfront journey, discovering multiple inlets where the water from the mountains met the lake. These were usually alongside villas hidden behind dense shrubs, but we saw enough of the bamboo trees and glistening blue water to appreciate the property.

Our favorite places

In Bellagio, we’ve had gelato from every shop in the main area, and yes, we do have our favorite. It’s under the Hotel Excelsior right on Via Lunga. While it’s .50 Euro more than anywhere else in the main area, the store also offers a broader selection and bigger serving sizes. Right across from this store is a marina equivalent, owned by the same company. The portions are smaller, same price and not as firm (as in, almost runny gelato). I know this is getting in the visitor weeds, but some people pay attention to, and care, about the little things.

Our favorite eatery…

Our favorite eater isn’t one of the waterfront restaurants. It’s on the first and most popular path the tourists take, including ourselves years ago. We love it for the homemade soups, massive meat and cheese plates, bean soup, and pastas. Despite our intention to branch out and not go here, no matter what we do and where we eat, this is our version of the pilgrimage to mecca. We can’t come to Italy and not go to this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

Another local hangout- I shot videos of the girls jumping off the end of the rock pier. They figured if the locals could do it, they could too.
Making friends

One of my favorite elements of traveling is meeting new people. This is Svetlana, who was in front of us at the gelato shop with her dog. She’s from St. Petersburg, Russia, staying in Bellagio for the summer with her boyfriend, an art dealer. She was adorable, and of course, had great skin which she covered under an enormous white hat.

My new friend Svetlana, a beautiful woman inside and out.
This other side of Lake Como

Leaving for Verona, we took the direct path, which in reality, means the single lane, lake-hugging road. And when I mean single lane, that’s not one lane both ways. It’s actually a single—one—lane. Cars going either direction share it as best they can at speeds one can only describe as uniquely Italian. Turn outs are rare, buses are common, and it was a torturous hour to reach the other side. Once there, however, the pace of traffic slowed, the buildings, while less pretty, more functional and crammed together along the waterfront, wasn’t a turn off. In fact, we thought this was the where “the real people,” of Italy lived and worked rather than on the well-known west side of Bellagio.

Important tip for parking

If you are going to drive a car and rent a place with parking, be sure to dig for details. While our flat had parking, what the owner didn’t identify is that the 800-yr. old, single lane road was barely wider than my arms spread apart (we checked this). The Fiats, Volkswagens and other mini cars could barely make it through, and at the end, the parking was in fact, plentiful. Probably is we are driving a touring wagon, and it’s as wide as a normal car. We ended up parking a quarter mile away at a park, but only after we dropped our luggage by the entry to this small lane, and hoofing it like college students on a weekend getaway down to our place. It was an unpleasant surprise, but in our lives, we’ve never encountered this before. Lesson learned; ask about the proximity of the parking to the unit, and width as well!

I just love this photo- the boat reminds me of a massive whales mouth that will absorb everything in its sight.
Feature photo: a view of Bellagio from the drone as we rode the ferry
in Destinations / Trip planning 0 comments
July 10, 2019  by

Driving the Alps from Switzerland to Italy: Furka Pass & Gotthard Pass

Outrunning rainstorms, motorcyclists passing on a blind curve, uphill in the sleet and more craziness from the Alps

Leaving Thun behind us, we were no more than a mile or two outside the city, on the windy road alongside Lake Thun before we started seeing a handful, then groups, then dozens of street bikes zipping by us, coming from the mountains in the distances. We stopped at Lake Thun to take a few pictures, test the water and grab a bite to eat, but we were being chased by storm clouds. They were already brewing beyond Oey, and by now, we knew the routine. If we were lucky, we had two hours before we’d get dumped.

Two different views of Lake Thun as you head towards the Alp passes. Lakeside eating, swimming and skiing all set in the world’s perfect location.

Scenery admired, pictures taken and more bread, cheese and meats eaten, we got back on the road, heading towards the skyrocketing peaks of the Alps. Grass fields replaced apartments and homes, trees giving way to grey rocks which appeared soft from the road. The number of streams and waterfalls grew with the size of the mountains, and at first, I insisted we stop at every waterfall. After the fifth, I realized taking a photo of every water effect coming off the Alps was unsustainable, plus, it would probably be boring to you, the reader.

Never one to disparage a good water effect, but this was the seventh in about a five-mile stretch and I had to put an end to the madness that I knew would befall me when trying to pic “the perfect shot,” for the blog.
The glaciers and restaurants

By the time we reached the top of Furka, the mist had turned to rain, and anyone on two wheels instead of four were in trouble. Then came the hail. I was seriously disappointed because the glaciers were now half-cloaked in grey clouds and my camera was pelted as I took photos, but I wasn’t the only one.

The windy, narrow road of switchbacks, underpasses and overhangs has multiple turnouts for stopping and snapping, or as we found, resting. These hardy pedal-bikers who have the stamina to climb for hours paused, stretched then got right back on their bikes, ignoring rain and hail, soldering on. It was impressive to say the least.

Riding on two wheels instead of four is impressive in my book; hills and sleet are dangerous and not for the faint of heart.

For those wanting a warm drink, a half-dozen eateries dot the road, all with indoor and outdoor seating. Although the rain was coming down, it was still quite warm the entire time, all the way to Gotthard Pass, which would take another hour to reach.

Two different restaurants along the way to Furka Pass, but both enticing to the worn out and presumably weary riders. The bottom picture is a very bored looking woman in front of her chalet, which is located directly across from the restaurant in the upper right.
My favorite Swiss cows–so soft and fuzzy, lounging just a few miles below this dam.

As we reached the top of Furka, the rock formations changed yet again, then it was suddenly green as we began a descent to the high valley. Here, we took a thirty-minute break, darted inside the eatery, waiting for a break in the storm before heading down and out on a peninsula to take a family photo. The rain momentary stopped, we snapped in the high winds, Porsche started singing in front of the fields while I recorded her and then bam. The rain came thundering down and we were soaked by the time we completed the short run to the car.

Descending into the town of Wassen

Through the high valley we drove, enjoying the town of Wassen, it’s church in the center of town and the gelato. Although we wouldn’t reach the Italian border for another hour, Swiss-German had ceased to become the primary language, Italian was now dominant.

Very quiet at this time of year, save for a few hikers who were in the outer lying areas, presumably staying in the quaint hotels located in Wassen.
Gotthard ski resort

We’d expected beauty and grandeur, tunnels and turns, but not the development of the town of Gotthard, near the top of the pass but not quite. What used to be a few moderately sized buildings in what I’d describe as a punchbowl community, encircled by high peaks, is now a Whistler-style hotels, connected and imposing. While the two areas are being built around a courtyard, and not far from the gondola, it’s still disheartening to see the transformation of the area, but such is life and progress. The train goes right to the center of the development, and for the thousands of ski buffs making the pilgrimage, ourselves include, it’s nirvana for residents of two countries on either side; Lake Como or Thun, Bern and Lucerne.

White and craggly, the rock formations change with each pass.

Up and up again we drove, then suddenly, the sign for Gotthard Pass announced we’d arrived. Our car identified it was about 50 degrees but dropping below 30 with the wind and rain. I donned Roger’s coat, grabbed my iPhone and recorded a short video for Instagram.

Just before reaching the highest part of the pass, the glaciers appear then are gone just as quickly.
The absolute highest part of the pass where I jumped out of the car, shot the video and jumped back in.
Now going down and down…the clouds are still following but we outran them!
in Destinations / Trip planning 0 comments
July 9, 2019  by

The Castle and Canals of Thun

“What a strange choice,” Rog remarked when I suggested we zip through Bern and Lucerne in order to spend more time in Thun. But when I showed him the pictures, he was in. Thun (pronounced tune) boasts a lake, canals, a castle in town, and another three on Lake Thune, Schloss Oberhofen, Schloss Spiez and Schloss Hunegg. Beyond that is another lake at the base of the Swiss Alps. What’s not to like? Thanks to our VRBO rental in the town of Oey, Thun was only a thirteen-minute drive.

What upgrades a standard street to a culinary mecca? Handmade chocolates, that’s what.

Lake Thun is large enough to boat, sale or swim, and the inlets have perfect glass water for slalom skiing. Homes, hotels and eateries, formal and casual dot the lake itself. It’s far smaller than Lake Coeur d’Alene in terms of length, but is wide and dramatically set in the basin of the alps.

Our first stop was downtown, where several parking structures are within two blocks of the canals and main shopping district. For a few hours is about 10 Euros, the walk through one main lane, across a canal, then another lane, another canal and then you are at the base of the Castle Thun. Be prepared to take multiple shots of both canals and streets, and the best picture of the castle (if not from a drone) is off the canal-road. Straight up and click.

One of three consecutive stairs. You can barely make out the steps due to wear over the 700 years. Slippery as all get out, even when dry.

Then you are off to the stairs the Castle Thun. You can take the uncovered set, or you have a choice of several covered with wood, reminding us all of a medieval movie yet to be made. Old, craggly stones and even older arches above us got us talking about the townsfolk required to make the pilgrimage up the up the stairs.

Entrances to castles dramatically vary, from grand and imposing, to efficient, short or long. Castle Thun’s entryway was in between, on the shorter side, solid but not overly grand.

Nearest the castle are several enormous mansions under reconstruction, the sweeping views and majestic courtyards nearly (or some more so) impressive than the castle itself.

Although the armory is closed off (e.g. non-existent any longer) a few pieces are placed in the small courtyard. Not pictured is a small café to the right of the cannon.

Castle Thun is rather small and unfortunately, a tad stark. My girls called it straight up boring, but that’s all about perspective. It’s been turned into a museum, so if you compare it to the three other in the region, yes, it’s not going to over coats of arms, silver-embroidered dresses or canopied beds of the other castles we’ve toured. The purpose of Thun Castle is to highlight the history of the town, and rotating exhibits. Even so, the walk up is worth the effort as the panoramic view of the Thun is lovely and the descent options of the covered and uncovered, narrow walkways are completely unique to this city.

The shot up from the main courtyard. Much of the castle has been turned into a museum, making the outside much more interesting than the inside–for kids, that is.
The Canals

What is pure European would cause heart attacks in the US. Multiple bridges, a quick moving river, men, women and kids jumping, diving and backflipping off the bridges, heads ducking under the lowest bridges, then popping back up, eventually trying to get to the side of the final swimming area or get smushed against the grate at the very end of the canal, where a very placid “lifeguard” is on duty. All in full view of espresso-sipping watchers eating paper-thin crust pizza, usually a cigarette in hand.

A sight never to be seen in the US–jumping off higher, medium and low-lying bridges, no age limits, no rules. Just fun.

When Rog and Porsche returned from a grocery run, returning with tails of kids and grandmas hurling themselves of bridges, we were skeptical. The water had to be too cold, too dirty and an anomaly. Let me assure you it was anything but. The city charges a fee which is given at the formal swimming/grate area, for I’m not sure what else to call it.

Canal-side sunbathing, dressing rooms (unisex and as you can see, open above the waist.

If you don’t want to end up at the very end, you can jump off further upstream, then swim to the side of the canal and pay no fee. However, the end of the line if you will has changing stalls, washrooms, a café, slide and upper deck on an island separating both canals. It’s just a bit nicer than getting out on the grass—but here, the Swiss don’t even want your feet to get dirty. If you desire to save the 7 Swiss Francs, concrete steps are on the side of the water so you don’t slip in mud. How civilized!

In between the two canals of Thun is this main street where pedestrians own the territory, shops are plentiful and goods are relatively reasonable (for Switzerland, that is).

One night, Rog and I left the girls with the farmer’s wife and children and had a dinner on the canal. It was low-key and romantic, the neon lights of the restaurants on the other side classy and demure, unlike the canals and lights in Amsterdam, if you want a comparison. Here, the tenor during the day even in the shopping district is relaxed and slow-paced, although fun and upbeat. Certain towns have a vibe, and Thun is one I’d describe is calm and happy. We just adored the two days we spent exploring the inner parts of the city, as well as the lake side area.

Both sides of the canals in Thun are equally beautiful, offering many eateries of all types.
What I liked best

Thun is easy going, from the driving to eating and recreation. We chose not to visit the several large swimming pool/areas because the lake was surprisingly warm and it didn’t take long to realize we could have spent two weeks in this one town and surrounding area of Interlaken and still wouldn’t have seen a tenth of what the area has to offer.

Tree lined, gravel walkways line the canals of Thun.
What I liked least

Knowing that when I return home, I’m going to feel a slight depression that nothing we have is as well taken care of, protected and preserved as it is here. The Swiss are so fastidious, whether it’s the backyard, the pavement of a tunnel, or the common parking space, the grounds, walls and surfaces glisten. No graffiti, not desecration of public space; its divine.

Recommendation

Book more than four days in the Interlaken area. We had five and wish we would have had ten. And this blog only covers the town itself, not the Alps!

Footnote

“Thoone? Toon? Thune? How do you even pronounce that?” Rog asked aloud. By the way, the name Thun is pronounced ‘tune,’ as in, singing a tune, we were informed by a local, making it clear we weren’t the first and won’t be the last visitors to woefully mangle the town’s name.

View from the top of the stairs, just below Castle Thun.
Feature Photo: downtown on the canals.

in Destinations 0 comments
July 9, 2019  by

Five days on a Swiss Farm

We wanted, and got, the true Swiss experience

Not many people know that for my 50th birthday, I asked Rog to find us a place that was local (e.g. didn’t require a plane flight), unique (something we’d never done before in two decades of marriage) and not a lot of money.

“The impossible, in other words?” he asked. Pretty much.

When Rog came back to me a few weeks later, he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I don’t want to tell you, but I’m worried you’ll hate it, so as much as I want it to be a surprise, I have to tell you.”

Good thing I was sitting down, because he’d booked a newly-built farmhouse on an eco-farm on a hillside in Nelson, British Columbia (blog forthcoming). It’s owned and run by a Swiss family who’d emigrated ten years prior. The farmer had taken over a ramshackle, one-hundred-year-old home, remodeled it and proceeded to create three, descending ponds, create four garden plots, raise cows from which the wife made butter, cheeses and milk. The experience was so completely odd and wonderful, Rog felt that for this year’s trip, he’d do us one better.

“I found us a 500-year old farm house to live in!”

Wow. Didn’t see that coming.

The local market across from the rail line in the town of Oey, Switzlerand (the market was actually 100% alcohol, but then when one is stepping off the train after working in Bern or Thun, I expect a good stein is what people crave.
A day in the life

Located in the town of Oey, the Familia Herrman Farm is a working farm, which means they live on the output of eggs, veggies, milk, cheese, composts (jams) and other items they produce. The farm has been in the family generations, and is now run by the farmer, his wife Annagret and twelve-year-old daughter. A woman in her mid-twenties had a week off of work for summer break and answered an ad to help out during berry season. During our time, it was lingone berry season, so in addition to the daily routine of waking at 4:30 to be in the garden picking, pruning and cultivating, Annagret was also making jams.

Five hundred years old and looking sharp.

Of the three-story building, our temporary residence was on the top floor, about two-thousand square feet with three bedrooms, a living area, kitchen/dining room and single bathroom. One thing I need to remark about the Swiss, Germans and even Italians—one bathroom to three bedrooms is the norm. That said, the tubs are seriously long- my 5’ 10.5 frame can lounge out toe to head in each bath.

Like many Swiss homes, farm or not, a breezeway dissects the main residence with the outer building, which can contain anything–cars, shop, equipment etc.

Factoid: The Italian influence is felt across the country of Switzerland. Below the arches or above the doorway on the outside of homes is usually the inscription of the family, and its always Familia first, followed by the name of the family.

As we were going to bed at one or two in the morning, Familia Herrmann were up with the sunrise, working until about 11, when Annagret would make breakfast, usually of bacon and some divinely smelling concoction that made our mouths water. The rest of the afternoon was spent indoors, or in the pool to escape the sun. It’s been very warm during our day, the temperatures in the high eighties and one day the low nineties, which is uncommonly hot for this time of year—early July. Those temperatures are usually reserved for a week or two at the end of August.

Another element of Swiss architecture is the use of covered walkways, this one comprised of apple trees trimmed to grow in a linear fashion, up and over the path, to the tree.

My girls helped collect the food from the garden that fed the goats, gather the 80+ eggs from the two chicken coops, played with the dozen or so rabbits and lounged with the two cats. While none of these acts are individually extraordinary, what we wanted them (and us) to see is the day-to-day authentic living of a family, on a farm, in Switzerland. The twelve-year old worked as hard at her prescribed tasks as her mother and father; each contribution vital to the good of the family.

I took to walking morning and evening, doing a loop that was realllllly long and uphill if I went in one direction or short and downhill if I went the other. You know what my lazier self-wanted to do, but the pragmatist in me realized my pants have been getting tighter, so I went counterclockwise to fight the battle of the bulge.

After the daily showers, snails come out with army-like precision, huge and small. We were in awe this little guy went up a six foot apple tree, out the branch to dangle on the leaf, which, by the way, I nearly ran into face first.

One thing I did have to watch out for was the afternoon storms. About 2 p.m. every day, the dark clouds collected, quickly covering the mountains with a dark charcoal. The cracking sound preceded the thunderstorm then the heavens released its watery load. Pellets of rain, hard and furious, drench the entire area. Between the heat and high velocity rain storms, it’s no wonder this region is so blessed with the bounteous crops.

One of four gardens run by the Hermann familia.

Factoid: Horseflies come out at night, along with these uber-sized flying beetles. With the setting sun and cooler air, these wing born carnivores seeking human blood hover near the green fields, and if I walked within about five feet of the fence line, I’d get attacked. Thus, it was that my path was straight down the middle of the road.

Location, location

The quite-as-night rail line is a two-minute drive from the home, and ten-minute walk to Oey which itself has been a joy to explore. Two small grocery stores, a micro-bank, four local restaurants and two outdoor shops. Up the road out of town, we found two ski hills, one if for locals only, and I do mean, only. A small bus that goes up two times in the morning and the same down for the return is the only car that can get up the narrow road. It’s built on an individual’s private mountain.

A typical home in Oey, Switzerland, right off main street.

The other ski resort is would also be considered local, but this at least has five different, two-story chalets, two restaurants and a sports center. It’s running now, and the dozens of mountain bike paths occupied with avid outdoor enthusiasts.

Heading the other direction from town leads you across the lone bridge (and only ingress/egress) to Oey. Turning left heads you to Bern and Zurich, turning right to Thun, to Zermatt (prominently featured in my Danielle Grant romance series) through the Alps and in to Italy. In and around we have toured for five days and we want more!

What I loved

Everything I described. Our five-day, four-night stay on the farm was 574 Euro, which we thought was a screaming bargain. Goats, a pool, rabbits and farm fresh food? Any time.

The Bern region of Switzerland, lush and warm, bulging with agriculture and recreation, skiing, hiking and climbing, Alps style.
What I didn’t

The internet service has been terrible. What I thought was poor in Germany was space travel compared to the automobile which, like any car, was periodically out of service or struggling to even start up. But that’s what you get in the middle of the mountains; a small sacrifice.

Recommendation

Definitely a must-do if you want the authentic, Swiss family farm style experience. What a blast of a time.

The hills are alive…wait, that’s Austria. Regardless, this is what staying on a farm will make you want to do: break out in joyful song, hands in the air.
Feature photo: taken from the grassland in front of the Familia Hermann farm.
in Accommodations / Destinations 0 comments
July 3, 2019  by

Lichtenstein Castle, Germany

Inspiring romance and images of warriors past

Four years ago, we were essentially lost on the backroads of Germany, which is what we refer to as “taking the scenic drive.” We had chocolate in hand and saw a few cars turning left up a long road and thought, ‘why not?’ It wasn’t until we drove into the parking lot and saw the castle on a piece of rock did we realize we’d stumbled on a castle.

This is taken from the armory, located across the bridge, opposite the castle
Getting there & parking

Lichtenstein Castle is on the way to (and about 20 min from) Burg Hohenzollern. If you drive too fast, you will miss the sign and right hand turn. Up a half a mile on paved road is upper and lower parking. The short walk up is on gravel, then arrival at the grounds. Tickets are cheap, 10 Euro for an adult, 7 for a child, and then you wait under the shade for your turn. The tours are limited to eight, which is about the max you can have in a lot of the rooms.

A little factoid is that during the war: the Allied forces had determined not to bomb many of the castles that we’ve seen during our travels, and I’m just so happy. This incredible feat of building the mini-but-super cool castle will be around for hundreds of years to come.

The walk to around one side of the castle
The tour

Sadly, no pics of the inside are allowed per usual, but official snaps can be seen on the website and available for purchase. My favorite room is the Knight’s Hall. It’s like a larger American dining room that would fit a twenty-person table. Along the upper moulding is actually a shelf with serious German steins, each with an insignia. Mounted heads of dead animals, boar being the primary one, are stuck on every available inch of wall space (that’s not why I like the room, it just comes with it). At the front is a pedestal, the kind you see at a conference facility, the wood ornately carved. We were told that from this, the hunters would hold a stein of beer and entertain the others with their stories of hunting greatness. I imagined fisherman doing the same: “It was the one that got away! It was thissssss big!”

On the left side of the podium is a secret door with a painted mural blending so well the tour guide had to open it up. This was the means for the Lord of the manner to escape the hunting room and go straight down to the den of sin, where his “ladies” waited for him as his wife was three stories up in her quarters.

This is a shot from the road down below, near the town (see further details in Tips)

The basic tour lasts 30 minutes and it’s of the first and second floors. The narrow, curving stairs weren’t all that hospitable, and that’s all we had time for. That said, the castle now offers a variety of tours, including the “Grand Tour” which we didn’t do because of the time constrictions. Next time around (if we are so lucky), I might be in for the 2-hour end-all-be-all tour. The list of tours with visuals is here.

Another view from the grounds
The grounds

Across and over the bridge is the gunnery, a round building displaying the cannons and other tools of war. It’s mostly closed off, but you can peek inside well enough to see how the soldiers shot their weapons on the invaders below.

The lower courtyard

For being so small and perched on a jutty of rock, the castle has a surprisingly gracious grounds to walk around. I can see the ladies of the joint enjoying the flowers under the shade of the trees.

What I love

The drawbridge over the infinite drop below, and the view of the castle from just outside the moat. It offers some of the most scenic portraits that even an amateur like me can pull off a good photo. I also love that pedestal and the visual of men lifting their steins, all hailing the boar that got away!

The armory is located on the corner overlooking the valley–and the only means up to the castle. This is one path
In a land where nary a guardrail exists, this has an actual fence, a strange site to behold.
What I don’t

Obnoxious tour companions. Ugh. We had another American who would not be quite, made loud noises throughout and constantly complained about not being able to take photos. About the time my mind started to go to a dark place, I just slotted her to the drawer of an annoying child, which fully enabled me to tune her out and go back to enjoying myself.

A peak inside the armory
Recommendation

Definitely do this if you have time. The tour is short, about 20 minutes, and well worth it. The grounds are lovely and small, so you can do the entire thing in less than an hour. No steep walks!

Every castle worth it’s weight needs a little dog door. Rog tried but didn’t fit

Tip: if you don’t have time to go to the castle, when you see the sign off for Schloss Lichtenstein, telling you to go left or straight, depending on your direction, instead, turn right, because the castle itself will be in your view. Doing this will eventually take you in to town, but half-way there, about five minutes going downhill, you can pull over, and from this vantage point, you can take the excellent shots from the road with your long lens. This way, you get the best (and only) shots without actually going on property, and missing out on your next destination.

Feature photo: drone shot taken by Rog as I took the manual shots
in Destinations 0 comments
July 3, 2019  by

Burg Hohenzollern, also known as Hohenzollern Castle

Imposing, inspiring and a favorite

Our itinerary had us going south to Switzerland today, and we got a late start, but nothing was going to stop us from seeing Hohenzollern. Looking at the time (1 p.m.), we’d have two hours to arrive, grab a tour and then drive four hours south to the authentic farm we are renting (yes, you heard that right). More on that tomorrow, but for now, let’s focus on this incredible castle, which by the way, is still home to the last in the line, Prince George Freidrich of Prussia, his wife and four children often live in his “apartment” on one of the floors (or two) of this super-sized castle.

As I manned the physical camera, Rog handled the drone, and we tag-teamed to get incredible shots of this incredible castle. You can see a bit of the 3 sections, which started in the 11th century. Presently, Prince Frederick and his relatively new wife Sophie live in an entire floor (or more) of the castle. We missed the during our visit. Dang.
Getting there

Our map took us about 30 km from Stuttgart, and then by the backroads, so the last sixty minutes or so were dipping up and down, this way and that through the back fields of Germany. Like the Rhein part of Germany, this area doesn’t require irrigation, which is the primary reason both areas were always in some sort of war. He who had the food lived, and ironically, lots of people died in order for the few to live.

Passing through several towns on our way to Hohenzollern Castle–does one get more local this this?? (the navigation on the car shows the windy, back roads.

Off the road, it’s literally one right for a few miles and another right to the only castle entrance. Lots of lower area parking was available and 100% empty. At the very base of the castle is the smallest lot and ticket agent. We literally had front row parking, probably due to the fact everyone else was at Neuschwanstein in Fussen, but the reality of kids still being in school until the end of July didn’t hurt.

The final buildings before the last few miles which are nothing but agricultural fields. This was my stop-the-car shot, about a mile down from Hohenzollern with the long lens.
Tickets and walk

A family of four gets a discount and entrance fee, plus parking for 24 Euros. With the 45-minute tour, it’s only another four Euros! What a deal. More wonderful than the low cost—lower than Lichtenstein Castle, which we visited earlier in the day, the tour was limited to 12 people. Unfortunately, one thing was about the same—the gnarly walk up. In fact, Neuschwanstein was a longer journey up, but less fiercely steep. Hohenzollern is a shorter walk because it’s l about a 25-30% grade on the steps going right up. Several thousand wood, stone and brick steps are going to set you back 30 minutes, but we were late, so we practically ran up. My chest screamed and my legs ached, but we did it in 10.

I don’t recommend it.

Two types of paths–the first is the more gradual, then it’s stairmaster time

Of course, if we’d gone at a leisurely pace, it would have been 20, and all sorts of folks were making the trek. That said, if you want to take the car, it’s available. No horse drawn carriages though. This place is clean and simple.

A look up from as you walk the final 100 feet before you start yet another climb on the carriage road into the castle proper
The entrance and tour

Consistent with the other castles in Germany, the grounds are accessible and free to tour. Only the parking fee must be paid (if you don’t find free parking). The outside of the castles is like Hohenschwangau, because it’s expansive and lovely. Hohenzollern Castle truly goes 360 around the structure once you are on the grounds, which is pretty incredible. Unlike Neuschwanstein, which has valleys on one side and mountains on the other, Hohenzollern is all around valleys. It is literally on top of the world.

Two of the four drawbridges as you walk up, and the last one under a tower
The entrance and tour

The tours begin inside the castle, so you walk all the way through the carriage entrance, which is long and wide. Round and round you go, up and up on what was once the long, carriage drive over four different drawbridges, each one another means to prevent invading armies. Through the last entryway is the primary courtyard. It’s grand and great for photos. On the right is one of several stone stairways, one designated as the entrance.

The main outdoor courtyard–the chapel entrance to front left, the entry to the ancestral room to the right, where the two signs are placed. It looks like the predecessor for the two-story columns favored in the 80s homes built in the US.

The door is locked at all times, so be forceful when you knock, because that baby is solid wood, and enormous. Our tour guide answered, a kindly, German-speaking elderly man who showed us where to pick out felt slippers. One does not remove shoes in this castle; the oversized, McDonald’s-like slippers go right on.

Imagine your first invitation to the castle, and up you go to the double doors leading directly into the Ancestral Room. You crane your head up and around to the hand-painted genealogical chart spanning hundreds of years to the present day prince.

From there, the tour begins. Since we could only make the German-speaking tour, we were given free guidebooks with our tour in English. This wasn’t really necessary, however. Most of the rooms had displays with English subtitles. Only the smaller, inner chambers lacked this feature. Still, if you’re a history buff, grab the brochure, because it’s free and that way you don’t miss out.

What you see

Since this castle is so massive, the tour, while forty-five minutes, still only gives you a fraction of the space, but what you see is inspiring. The first room on the tour—and focal point for visitors past and present is the Ancestral Room, which is a two-story high room showing the dynasty on the walls, starting at the very top with the coat of arms for the family represented. The hand-painted ancestral chart shows the genealogy well enough for any quilter or family history expert to eye it with envy.

The castle was built in three phases–but it’s referred to as “three castles” because each one was completed on its own, not left unfinished. You can tell the evolution by the brick and structure.

From there, we were led to the count’s hall is for socializing, and we mistakenly thought it was a massive English-style dining hall, but no. Modern day designers surely copied the window seating which lines the entire room, along with tables set on either side, the inlaid marble flooring imported from Italy, and copied from the Karlstejn Castle in Prague (that’s where you can hold the eagle, owls and falcons, which I did and have the pictures. It was awesome). Since we visited that destination on our last visit, it was fun to notice the similarity. Massive iron chandeliers hang from above, ornate stain glass inlay is on every window, each offering glorious views to the valley below.

Then in to several inner chambers, a few of the Queens rooms as well as the Kings quarters. Hallways line the outside of the single floor, each and every single room covered with original, oil portraits of the home’s occupants. I inquired about the gold on the wallpaper with images of vines and flowers, and was told that yes, the room’s walls are hand painted gold leaf. In fact, all items in this castle are original, save for the curtains, which were replaced in the 2003 timeframe. You could tell where parts of the walls themselves had to be updated, because they were cracking. This is most likely due to the stone and concrete underneath sweating during the seasons, but it was insignificant, barely catching the eye.

Just outside the chapel is this heart shaped metal with vines. Apparently, the castle is home to couples getting married. Below left is a large, outdoor eating area, which held large parties for those past and present
Always interesting: the small bedrooms

As with all the other castles, the actual bedrooms themselves are teeny, about 15×10 max, even for the King and Queen. The beds themselves are twins, and shorter than an American size. We hypothesize the rulers were too busy to hang out in the micro room. They had bigger and better things to be do.

This castle offers a 360 view, the terraces extremely wide, the ledges thigh-height. If you fall, it’s a long drop.
The artifacts

In the final room of the tour within the castle is stocked with replicas of the crown and jeweled sniffing boxes, swords, flatwear and original clothing. Regarding the jewels, the guidebook identifies them as replicas, so it was unclear to me why it’s been put behind a three-inch piece of bulletproof glass, inset within a four-inch concrete frame, along with the three-inch steel door to shut when the visitors leave. Me being me, I inquired.

“Yes, these are replicas, but we are pretending they are real by virtue of the anti-theft elements just to make you think you’re in a museum.” Huh.

The tour guide confirmed what was in the guidebook: the real items are in the Berlin Palace, but the snifter boxes were stolen in a spectacular burglary in 1953.

The finale was a visit to the chapel was next, and it was as equally grand as the rest of the castle.

But wait, there’s more

Of all the floors and massive square footage (100+ thousand), we saw probably 3,000 square feet.

“What’s going on with all the rest?” I asked. I was told the present prince and his family occupy and entire floor (or more) of the three-part castle. I’d give that probably 20,000 square feet, give or take. It has its own private garden, two entrances and who knows how many square feet for staff and the like. Still, that leaves about 80,000 left unaccounted for. Still seeking a better answer, I asked the nice ladies at the information desk, they demurred; the sides of their lips turned down, eyelids lowered and a single nod of their head was all I got. It basically said: Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? So disappointed I even have to give you ‘the look.’

I’ll definitely use the look somewhere down the line in a book. It was a classic ‘older-woman-scolding another female who lacks couth.’

The formal entry into the large dining/outdoor reception area that is presently an outdoor café. This is where all the garden parties and outdoor social activity took place.

Tip: drones are allowed, and this is another difference from the US or Mexico. In those areas, historical sites are mostly a no-fly zone, and most drone systems link in to the FAA by law, identifying the air space. This means Mt. Rushmore and so many other places are no-fly zones.

Compare that to Europe: the UK, Germany, and elsewhere. A little notice pops ups, that is basically a disclaimer of damage. The operator of the drone agrees that if the drone he/she is operating damages anything, then they are liable. The airspace controller for that location has the code for the drone operator so it would be tracked and validated.

Also, the elevation rules are totally different. One can get within 400 or 700 feet of the destination depending. This means better shots all around.

Key-hole shots around the entire perimeter, starting with the carriage road.
What I loved

Everything. I even liked the walk up in hindsight. All I need to do is visit a castle a day and my body will be bathing suit ready in no time.

What I didn’t

Not seeing more of the castle.

Recommendation

Absolutely yes. It’s kid friendly, although we didn’t see any, other than our own. It’s also practically vacant, and we can’t understand why, but were happy to benefit from the absence of others.

Feature photo: taken from a drone flown by my husband, Rog, about a mile away from the castle
in Destinations 0 comments
July 2, 2019  by

Tripsdrill: an authentically cool German theme park

Learning while having the time of your life

Little did I know that its Porsche would usurp me as the family social director at the ripe, young age of 13. It was she who has found multiple theme parks that never even registered on either my, or Roger’s radar. The obscure castles and German-centric amusement recreation areas have been hidden in plain sight, arrived to find we are only non-German speaking folk about.

Getting there

Located just outside the city of Stuttgart, right smack in the middle of wine country, with a chateau perched on the nearest hill is Tripsdrill. I didn’t know much about it other than Porsche said we “must, must go there,” so we drove the 2 hours from our place in Kammeltal. Parking is free, plentiful and given it was a Monday, practically empty.

Another mostly empty theme park–this is the entry point, and the “streets” leading in to the rest of the park. Every attention to detail was made in creating this park; not a flower or piece of (real) laundry was out of place.
Two parks in one

For the grand price of about 40 Euros for a family of four, we had unlimited rides in the amusement park, and access to the wilderness park, which is about a 1km drive away, although you can walk. The wilderness park has animals of all types, with an eye towards those that can be held, touched, petted and played with. The lone exception to this is bear exhibit, even the German’s have a line. But the deer, falcons, goats and every other relatively tame, non-carnivore is available.

Two giant treehouses hold up one of those dropping/fluctuating rides that make your stomach go into your throat, then down into your bowels and back again. We passed on that, choosing to pet and scratch the goats that were directly across. The bottom picture would make Andretti proud; it’s a mini-race course.

One thing about the German mentality is the responsibility-based approach. Ergo, there’s nary an attendant or monitor at any station. If your kid gets stomped by a deer or a finger bitten off by a goat, your bad as a parent. At every entry point, one, waist-high swinging door is followed by another. It’s your responsibility to ensure the animal doesn’t escape from the first, or second. And following Darwin’s theory, if you allow a four-legged creature to outsmart you or your child, you get to go chase it.

The upper left is the misting I mentioned, while the right is the agriculture area where the ride is conducted in wine barrels. The bottom is one of three water rides–note the edge on the right–look mom–no rails, or guards to prevent one from falling in.

Moving on to the amusement park, this same attitude prevails. As an example, two water log rides exist, one for kids under 13 (although adults can ride on it as well) and another for adults (although kids above a certain height can also ride). Right next to the water are paths of stone, where anyone and everyone is allowed to sit and dangle their feet. In Germany, and most European countries, it’s all about self-responsibility. If you or your offspring fall into the water and hurt themselves, you pick them up, dust them off go on with your day. Companies are protected from the consumer (prevented from lawsuits), and as such, can offer amazing experiences where one isn’t inhibited. Ergo, parents aren’t on their phones, but watchful and playing with their kids, which is a beautiful experience all around.

An education environment celebrating German engineering achievements

Tripsdrill is not just any theme park, where the rides are the end-all-be-all. This is about the full experience of educating the visitor as they wait in line, grab a snack or drink a glass of wine. Wine making is dominant in this area, so an area consisting of its own, originally-styled wine-making barn sits next to four different smaller buildings, each one with original pressing (or whatever it’s called) equipment. Sorry, I don’t drink or know much about wine, or speak German, but know lots of people who do would appreciate this, along with the free drinks served.

These are just a few shots from the inside of the castle which houses the sleigh roller coaster ride, hence, the entirety of the displays are life size items relating to sleigh making.

A few other examples include the sleigh roller coaster. This is located in a castle, wherein the signs posted show waits of 2 hours at the entry. We arrived on a Monday, so we walked right up and on to the rides, but the Germans, anticipating rush hour, take advantage of every step to educate you on the sleigh making. Within the building are lifestyles, custom mannequins demonstrating all things sleigh, starting with the stables) grooming and doctoring the horses—which actually include the horse, all the tools and items for medicate attention, and even a side stall where a person sleeps near his horses. The next area within the wait line is a huge movie screen, showing a black and white film of the old days of sleigh making. The walkway is one story up, looking down below on a recreated outdoor scene of a winter wonderland. This continues right up until you enter the ride.

Each ride has its own focus, from the kids spinning ride, where the cup is actually a bread bowl, and all the surrounding items focus on bread, to the swing ride that’s a three-story high mushroom, and the wait line is all about agriculture. The entry to the wooden rollercoaster, (the smoothest, and best one we’ve ever ridden, I shall add), is all about mill working. It’s like the anthology of using and applying lumber, the first tools and wheels, to then more sophisticated equipment and applications—cutting, slicing, and manufacturing. All I could think about was my father, who would have cared less about the ride, but hung out for hours oohing and aahing about the machinery.

Notice the wooden roller coaster in the back left? In between that and this monster-of-all wooden forts is the lumber section, where riders waiting in line get to see the history of millworking.

Me and Rog were right there with him, and had a moment of silence in his absence.

I’ve just got to mention a third water ride, which is the rafting. In the US, you have to wait your turn, the attendant directs a group one a time to get in, and that’s that. Well, here, since there’s no attendant, and the round floats come up the metal ramp without assistance, those in line are left to their own to walk on the wet, moving ramp of metal, get in (no straps mom!) which fit 12, three to each section, and sit down before it goes off the ramp, plunging in to the water below. Guess what? No age limit on the kids either, but nary a problem or mishap.

If you’re going to be launched out on a water log, do it from a castle, I say.
A note on rides all around Germany

Pretty much it’s void of lockers. Everyone works on the honor system, which means that the backpack or purse you are carrying is placed on the shelves by the ride. You set it down prior to getting in, go on the ride, then pick it up. A few years back we were leery of this, but shouldn’t have been. Stealing doesn’t happen here. So it was that I’ve been removing my pack with all my camera gear, wallet and sundries, placing it on the shelves or ground, and pick it right up after the ride is done.

A few of the displays regarding sewing–from the most basic, through to the looms, including all the machines and irons. These women worked hard and were talented!
Other niceties

Each and every ride and planter box has been treated with care. It’s as though a master gardener (or 12) have been cultivating this park for years, and this is the glorification of their work. I took over 110 shots of this park, more than all the castles and destinations combined, but know you might suffer from overkill. Yet I’m giving them credit through the mention, because it’s deserved.

This attraction/ride was all about the history and art of breadmaking, hence, they are in a bunt cake!

Another nice touch are the arched entrances that double as misters, not enough to ruin the makeup or hair, but cool you down. Not a bench exists for resting that isn’t situated under shade and my favorite part (although unused by us?) The metal chaise lounge chairs where adults could take a breather as their kids play in the park. We need these in America!!!

Seriously civilized living; the parents kick back, read, snooze or watch their kids across the flower beds in the large lawn.

The food was tremendously great, pizza, schnitzel and bratwurst, all tasting farm fresh, as well as the baguettes probably baked that morning. Germans know how to eat, is all I’m saying.

Final note

I’ve touched on the honor system, but today’s experience takes the cake. We spent nearly six hours at the park (when we anticipated about three) and couldn’t find our care. Now, there’s only about 4, double parking lanes that were full, and from a distance, I thought I saw our car, but the trunk was open, so we walked on. Reaching the grass parking area, we turned back, double-checking our eyes. Indeed, the trunk was open, because the groceries we’d purchased that day, from water bottles, fruits and veggies. Furthermore, my long lens was in the glove compartment, which was unlocked, and my metal water bottle and sunglasses were also in the car.

We realized that Rog’s remote must have gotten accidentally punched as we walked away, and four six hours, the trunk was open, and car unlocked. Not a single item was out of place or missing.

One word. Wow.

Final tip to a new traveler

I lied, another note. When it’s lunchtime, everything just down. The grocery stores. The banks. The gardening shop. Trust me, we’ve tried all three things between the hours of 12-1 over the last five days and can vouge that it hasn’t mattered what town, it’s all done for, which actually, is a great thing. Everyone takes the break at the same time, for a full hour.

What I loved

All of it. Period. The end.

What I didn’t….

That the three water rides closed at 4:30, while the park itself closes at 7. The wilderness park doesn’t allow entrants after 6 p.m. to allow an hour for late starters.

Recommendation

An absolute must if you have kids, or love German history and manufacturing. Rog and I agreed that if we lived here, we would have seasons passes. I’m not sure I’d ever get tired of Tripsdill.

Feature image: the roller coaster in the foreground of the chateau. only in Germany


in Destinations 0 comments
July 1, 2019  by

Hohenschwangau, or Castle of the Swans

The original castle of Fussen

Hohenschwangau, or Castle of the Swans, as the tour guide explained, is based in a simple fact that we’d never before heard: swans, as in a pair, male and female, dominate a single lake. Around this area of Fussen, many lakes exist, and for each lake, no matter the size, it has only a single pair, as they are very territorial. The entire valley is called “Valley of the Swans” for this reason. The knights wore embroidered patches on their arms as their insignia, and the rulers of Bavaria who inhabited this castle, have swans everywhere, from the solid silver chandelier hanging in the king’s private chambers, to the solid silver swans located on major artifacts and pieces. It’s all about the swans.

The overview

Hohenschwangau, pronounced, Hohen-shwong-gow, (say that a few times, because I did, until the tour guide stopped grimacing at my inabilities), is in the opposite direction of its sister castle, Nueschwanstein. Skipping over hundreds of years of details (sorry, I only have so much time), King Maximillian and his wife Marie of Prussia raised their two sons here. Prince Ludwig, who never married, decided to outdo this castle and built Nueschwanstein. We saw the room where he installed his telescope to watch the construction of the massive castle, which is much more imposing on the outside by far, but lacks the intricate details on the inside. He was single, he had nothing better to do than fight with his mom (tour guides off-the-cuff remarks, not mine), so why not build a castle 300,000 people from around the world would one day come see?

As you can see, the front entrance is far more familial and less imposing that the castle built by Maximillian’s son, Ludwig. The outdoor courtyard in the upper right, the view from the what’s essentially the deck to Nueschwanstein
Getting there

Since I already detailed the roads, parking and walk to Nueschwanstein, I’ll skip that part and go right to the castle. Just below the castle itself is another lot available for parking, and the lake which is not actually open to swimmers, but as the tour guide said, people come (not hundreds, but dozens) and use the shoreline. No one will get fined or arrested, but it does worry the locals and tourists, because they are increasingly trying to lure the swans in and feed them. This year, the mating pair only had a single duckling, and a tourist from China was caught trying to kick it to take a selfie. Pictures were taken and she was escorted off premises. Word to the not-so-wise: don’t kick the swans.

The “back entrance” for servants, as their building is adjacent to this (not pictured)

If you are walking up from the ticket office, or down from Nueschwanstein, it’s only another 10 minutes up another pathway, this one much narrower but still paved. It’s shaded as well, and not a big deal. The first building you see is the chapel, which from the outside looks more like a hothouse. Then up to the main house, which consists of two buildings, one for the servants, storage, carriages and the like, and the other is the primary residence.

This castle is what I’d describe as a “family castle” where it was actually used like a home–or rather a nice, summer retreat. And since you don’t want to leave for church, just have your own on site.
The tour

For $28 Euro, two adults and two children receive audio-guided tours. You have an actual tour guide, which controls the flow of 20 people through the 35-minute session, ensuring you stay together, don’t take any pictures or items, although that would be hard, since everything is behind glass barriers. The rooms are cool, since each room has windows that have been left open; and the views are awe-inspiring. Built on the top of the mountain, the castle has 360-degree views of lake, mountains and valley. The Queen Marie (formerly of Prussia) had an entire floor to herself, including music, writing, waiting and bedrooms, each looking out to different parts of the territory. Just above her on the top floor is the King’s quarters. In his room, he had two secret doors with painted murals, one for the bathroom and the other for his stairs leading down to his wife’s bedroom. Love those sneaky doors.

The shield on the left was a wedding gift made of solid silver, each of the small square pieces represents the coat of arms of a wealthy family who contributed to its creation. Behind it is an ax and a sword (yes, you could touch it). To the right was a gift to Maximillian for his 80th birthday. The corners are bronze, the blue is lapiz and what you can’t see are detailed monograms made of diamonds.

The other area open for the tour is the main entryway, the reception and dining areas, as well as the what would be considered the main entertaining areas on either side of the dining hall. The unique factor of this castle is much that every wall has original, mural paintings on every wall, capturing and depicting the history of the people, the rulers and the culture significance of the area. Gold leaf is everything, it too is authentic and original. The Bavarian guides are people are rightly proud of the respect shown this castle, and its significance. We appreciated the piano made of walnut given to the Queen when she was fifteen by her parents (in her music room) and the contrast of the one made and used by the King upstairs in his bedroom (hers was nicer/more refined).

Swans everywhere! This time in the garden overlooking the lake beyond.
The town of Fussen

Below both castles is the town of Fussen, which offers a ton of hotels, but not in the traditional, American style. Most are rather hidden, are unassuming and all unique to this culture. You won’t find a single, big-name, brand hotel in the area, which is a good thing. In fact, the hotels are considered historical sites, and signs posted along the roadways show a “hotel tour” so tourists can go visit each and every one. After finished our visits, we were game, and thought, why not? After four, we stopped, but only because we were starving and needed to eat and drive the @2 hrs back home. The ones we saw were lovely (and no, I didn’t take pics. I only have so much time/blog space).

The town is lovely, quaint and also offers Fusseen Castle, but this is a completely different style. My camera battery died (shame on me) so I only got a couple of pics.
A singular pic before my camera croaked, but it the rest of it was much more majestic, although in no way comparable to either of the other two castles- this is much more basic, at least from the outside.
What I liked

The situation of the castle, the views from every window, its ornate and detailed characteristics, and the outdoors, which are incomparably nicer than Nueschwanstein. You can tell this was more of a family castle, because it has gardens, fountains, sitting areas and touches completely lacking at the grand Nueschwanstein. That’s what I’d call a man’s castle. In fact, this castle was simply deserted by comparison.

Fussen had a festival the weekend we went, which really meant more food for us!
Another day, another million calories consumed. What you don’t see is the actual “garden” in the back, past the people on the upper left. As with most beer gardens, it’s a tree-covered area where people drink beer. Rog is always incensed that sparkling water is $6 Euros a bottle, whereas a beer is about a single Euro. Porsche asked politely if he would rather she took up drinking to save him money. Snap.
What I disliked

Nothing. It was all good! The path up, the tour (size, length, tenor and information) were great. Of course, we all want to see more—which would have included the downstairs of the castle, and the other building, but life is life. Castle operations are a business, and with the volume of people and tours, I’ll have to reach another level in this life to get the private, see-it-all view.

Recommendation

Absolutely do this tour if you are a history buff. Like Nueschwanstein, walking the grounds is free of charge, but the inside is not to be missed.

in Destinations 0 comments
June 30, 2019  by

Nueschwanstien : Also known as Cinderella’s Castle

After 38 years, I finally made it

Today’s castle-going journey is being split in to two separate blogs because I have too many photos, and suspect WordPress will collapse on me, which happens when I push it, which means Castle Nueschwanstien in one and Hohenschwangau (Hohen is Castle) in another.

A clear shot from the paved road up, where you can walk, or have a horse-drawn carriage (like Cinderella, actually, but without the slippers).
Thanks mom

The shout-out to my 79 mom is important because it was she who gifted me a calendar of castles when I was twelve. On the cover was Schloss (Castle) Nueschwanstien, which seared itself in my mind as the end-all-be-all of castles, and places to visit. For years, I promised myself that when I “arrived”, I’d go. Little did I know it would take me decades to arrive! In truth, it wasn’t that I couldn’t have gone before. It was just a tad out of the way when I’d go to Berlin, Hamburg or Hannover for business and later, with Rog and the girls, heading to southern Germany never made the top five on our list. Today, we realized that we were a lot closer than we realized, which made our visit that much more…how shall I say, impactful (embarrassing would be another word). We shouldn’t have waited.

Fun fact: this castle is conventionally known as “The Cinderella Castle,” because Walt Disney famously said he modeled the castle the animated movie on Nueschwanstien.

Cinderella lives, just like Elvis
Getting there

We were north about 90 minutes, the drive was fast, per usual, the traffic nil, despite us learning it was the weekend of a fair in the nearest town of Fussen. As a side note, we later learned the family history of the three castles I mentioned, and it was sort of “I’m going to out-do-you” mentality, regardless of the fact the parties were related. That made it all the more interesting.

An incredibly beautiful journey to the region, the town just outside Fussen and a pic of the mountains as we head to our destination.

The closest major town is Munich, but it’s not too far from Lichtenstein and Switzerland. On the Autobahn, time is always cut in half, so that’s something to keep in mind.

Arrival and parking was a breeze. Straight off the freeway about five minutes, in town, parking nearest the castle is to the right, with a sign identifying it was full, so we turned left, took a ticket and parked, front row. Tip: make sure you have 7 Euro in coins with you because they don’t take credit cards for parking and this can’t be purchased on line (we didn’t know this).

Tickets and prices

A short walk of five minutes to the one and only ticket counter, and another $28 Euro for two adults, as kids are free (at least 13 and under). Because we arrived at 2, our choices were limited for tours; either the Nueschwanstien or the Hohenschwangau Castle, but we couldn’t do both. We asked the ticket agent for his insight, and he balked. My husband, ever the man, leaned in, and asked, “if it were you, and it was your money, what would you do?” At this, the agent glanced around and told us the skinny.

“Take the Hohenschwangau,” he answered in a low voice. “The Nueschwanstien tour has 60 people for a 20-minute tour, and it’s so crowded you will hate it. The Hohenschwangau is limited to 20 people and a 35-minute tour, and it’s much better preserved.”

That was it. The translators are available in multiple languages, the most important being Mandarin from the number of visitors predominantly from China.

The view from the lot is top right and below, while the upper left is the building adjacent from the ticket office (which wasn’t nearly as pretty).
The journey up

Our time was in fact, very limited, because we were told the walk up to the world-famous castle of my dreams, Nueschwanstien, would take 30 minutes, unless we were going to take the horse-drawn carriage. None of that for us. Then we’d take some pictures around the external premises and inside courtyards, because it is open and free to the public. Only the tours charge a fee. We’d then have to go down, and walk back up the other hillside to Hohenschwangau.

Fortunately, the only sun on the way up is right at the base of the hill, the rest of the rather steep road is paved and in the shade. One shortcut on dirt stairs is available, and we watched an American couple and friend hand carry their stroller (with two kids) up the stairs—hundreds of feet. We were impressed.

By foot or carriage, the scenery is stunning

Sitting on the top step was a man drinking his bottle. He was in good spirits, inviting us to sit by him, but we thanked him and continued; stopping was not an option. I was going to reach that darn calendar destination!

Halfway up is a rest station, consisting of two restaurants and an ice cream station. Sweating profusely, we continued up, reaching the top in another 10 minutes. Once at the castle, you can turn left or right. Left will take you up and around an side of the castle that’s being restored; the west-facing side towards the valley and lake beyond. Then you read the massive entry doors, walk in (again, all of this is free). You can take pictures in the courtyard, or continue up another set of stairs which takes you to the “real” main square. This area reminds me of Robin Hood, where the King walks out on the deck to great the crowds, but without the king.

The first thing you see from the base of the castle.

Back down the stairs you go, and those taking the tour look to the electronic sign identifying the next group. Through the turnstiles you go. The rest of us walk down, then back around the other side of the castle. It does have an overhanging, metal grate with invisible decking for pictures to the east, overlooking the rushing river below. It was freaky and awesome at the same time, and I thought I was going to get crushed by the onslaught of foreigners with selfie sticks, all battling for the corner spot. And I thought us Americans were bad!

The main castle entrance
The “bottom” entry courtyard, which requires one to walk left, and up the stone stairway to the courtyard
The main courtyard on one side….
And turning around is this opposite facing…all the views are to the valley
What I liked most

The castle is all I imagined it to be and more. In both this castle and Hohenschwangau, the artifacts are original, not replicas. If you’ve not been to lots of castles (we’ve visited 15 or so thus far), it might surprise you to learn that most everything inside is a replica, because the value is high, as is the risk of damage or theft. It’s just fun seeing all the gifts from other royalty and such, knowing they are the real deal.

Coming down from the castle…
And least….

Nothing that can be changed. It was disappointing to hear from the staff that it’s overcrowded, the tours so big and fast—but even this I have to defend a bit. We learned more from the staff that tourists had taken too many liberties with the original items—from silverware to lamps, coats of arms, porcelain etc., and event destroying items on the wall. For that reason, about 90% of Nueschwanstien is closed off. What a bummer, but it proves the sad saying true: the actions of the few destroy it for the many. GRRR

Recommendation

Absolutely. It’s a feat of mankind for a person to have a vision for a castle perched on a hillside as well as  the fortitude and engineers to design and construct the structure.

Feature picture: taking on site!
in Destinations 0 comments
June 30, 2019  by

Legoland Germany

With or without kids, make the time & effort

When our attorney said he’d used his one vacation in four years to hit Legoland in California, we were skeptical. Yes, we loved Legos as a kid, but nothing like our second daughter, who sits for ours bringing to life imaginary worlds and peoples. Still, we were unsure until Rog informed me the first rental he’d chosen in Germany is 6 minutes away from Legoland Deutschland. It’s also close to Stuttgart and Frankfurt, so the average tourist to Germany doesn’t really have an excuse not to go!

Today, we arrived at noon, fearing the worst of crowds. As you can see, it was basically empty. The car lot wasn’t even half full, only one of the seven, entry booths were open, and once inside, the lines were about ten minutes long—if there was a line. Message to you: if you are ever going to travel to Europe, go in June or July, as we have done the last few times. August is high season, not early July.

Have you ever seen a happier sign?? From the exit, you see these 2-story high legos jutting from the hill. I want one on my hill as an ode to my childhood.
Fluency

As we walked around, we heard at least a dozen languages. All the signs and communication are in German and English, but the staff goes back in forth in about six (we periodically asked the staff). While my basic German is improving, my accent is laughable—and yes, they laugh at/with me.

Everyone needs a picture with a life-size adopted Lego family, and have you ever seen a happier bathroom? In fact, everything is joyful and triumphant in Legoland, including the music pumped out around the park.
Size and rides

Two, moderately adult roller coaster rides exist, and I use that phrase because the thrill is intense but short, the rides about 1 minute after the initial journey, in one case, through a Lego castle—which I took a video and it’s on my Instagram feed. The waterlog ride is fun, and cameras are everywhere, so beware or you’ll get scolded like Rog did, when he took out his Wi phone, and immediately, a woman’s voice came over a loudspeaker in the middle of the river and told him to put it away (in German). The other locals on the log ride with us laughed, and he got the message. He put it away.

One great design of this park is that the designers constructed massive shaded areas for long lines. In the case of the rollercoaster, the lines snake through a mini lego castle, which really isn’t that mini!

The park isn’t massive, is well shaded and laid out, the three gift shops mixed between sections—think Safari, Aquarium, Egypt, China etc. I’d say the predominant rides and attractions are for age 6 and under, which makes sense, but that didn’t preclude the adults from loving or going on the rides where they’d fit (leg length is an issue). On the log ride, I needed to switch with Rog, even though he was boiling and it was his turn to sit in the front with a child, because his legs were too long and didn’t fit.

The line for the second rollercoaster was non-existent. Every ride has an real-time visual of the wait based upon where you are in line so you can make a decision if you want to continue waiting or bail. Love a choice! The bottom lego castle is where we go tomorrow!
Food etc.

Great fair all over the park, and actually rather inexpensive. The dollar is strong right now against the Euro, and everywhere we go, the quantities are overly large (e.g. we can’t finish a single plate), so I’ve taken to not ordering more than an app or salad, and taking bites from everyone else.

My favorite replica. Enormous, intricate and tens of thousands of lego pieces comprise this football stadium.
Cost

For our family of two adults and two kids (in Europe, they have a middle-range, teen cost), it was $185 with parking fees of $6. Both were less than had we shown up at the park, because we purchased on line that morning. A veritable bargain compared to Disneyland, but then again, the size is fractional.

What I liked

My favorite part/area was the cities built by Legos. It was a lot like mini-Europe in Brussels, but because these mini-city replicas were constructed of Legos, it was much more impressive to me. To this I’d add the life-size giraffes and elephants—can you even calculate the cost of that? Both girls liked the dragon roller coaster where she screamed the entire time as I laughed. Oh! The gift shops were insane—they have soooo many more projects than are available even on-line it was silly. Rog’s fav? A Bugatti race car with a working engine for about $300. You should have seen the men drooling over this endcap shelf.

What I disliked

Nothing! It was all good, and the lack of crowds divine.

Definite, absolute recommendation to go with kids.

Feature photo: taken at the entrance
in Destinations 0 comments
June 29, 2019  by

Dinner and a dog attack

One of the iconic lines from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure is: “Strange things are afoot at the Circle-K,” said in the driest of tones by an observantly sarcastic Bill (Keanu Reeves).

So it was that our day ended with the dog attack as we were having schnitzel, and because it’s on my mind, I’m writing about it first. (Blog on Legoland, which was this same day, will be up next).

Under the protective shade is the other half of the outdoor dining space of the Gasthaus Adler in the Holzheim area of upper Bavaria

We’d tried to go the night before, but it was closed due to the food fair in nearby Gunzburg. Tonight, we were on a mission, being hot, hungry and tired from Legoland Germany. The Gasthaus Adler Sudtiroler Speckstube, is a two-story, hundred-year-old building with an outdoor seating area located under three enormous trees, and a second vine-covered area. On the other side of a gazebo is a wooden playground area for kids, and on the other side is a pasture where the dairy comes in fresh, turned into cheeses and other livestock turns into the food that we were served. It’s about as farm-to-table fresh as one could get.

Traditional schnitzel with potatoes and mushroom cream sauce

We were effectively using our Google translate when the manager of 20 years took pity on us, and with a smile, spoke enough English we could order. Of course, all we wanted was schnitzel, but when she started to provide options, I was in. That mean asparagus soup, a meat platter of sausage, prosciutto plus a few other things I can’t recall but devoured. I’ll skip over the rest, and jump right to the part where we were eating, and a lab-looking like dog, who had been lazily sleeping under his parents’ feet (man, woman and 7 yr. old boy the whole time), jumped up and attacked a grandma who was making her way under the gazebo.

The gazebo where this all went down, and you can spot the dog lounging under his mom’s feet.

With my mouth full of pickle, I about choked as the dog lunched, bit her arm, paws on her stomach, knocked her right over on her hip as she screamed, and kept after her before Rog, the owner or anyone else could stop it! The owner was closest and first, dragging the dog off, while the woman, whom I guessed about 80, was seizuring on the ground. The entire area, which was full of diners, simply watched. No gasps, no shaking of head, just a slight downturn of noise. The woman’s daughter came quickly, the dog’s owner smacked the animal’s head and sat town. In the meantime, the diners started eating, the chatting picked up and the injured woman was led out of the area.

Farm fresh prosciutto, cheese and sausage with an equally divine, thin-crust pizza

We pondered the incident, more intrigued by the non-chalance we observed. If this had happened in the States, well, the cops would have been called, someone arrested or a do-gooder might have just shot the animal. Not here. These folks have clearly seen it all, and been through enough to not worry about a dog. Shortly thereafter, the medics came, along with the doctor and the woman was taken away. Not before, however, the mother of the dog returned from where ever she was (presumably the bathroom) and promptly freaked out. She tracked down the injured woman, the daughter and was profuse in her response-which we couldn’t understand a word, by the way.

My 13-year old expressing her unhappiness at being asked to not drink her apple juice for a pico-second. The carriage house (cook house) behind her. ah. motherhood.

When we’d eaten our meal and completed the bill, we asked the manager if the woman was alright. She expressed all would be well, but that the dog was protecting the young boy, who was on the other side of the gazebo.

“Without it’s protector—the mom,” explained the manager, “the dog was only doing it’s duty as a protector of the child.” Those within hearing distance seemed to agree, and we thought about that after we left. It wasn’t the dog’s fault, in other words, it was being a dog. It wasn’t the injured woman’s fault either, she just happened to get between protector and child.

“In twenty-years,” she continued, “I’ve never witnessed such a thing.” Well, neither had we. All in a day in a foreign country.

Feature image: the back of the restaurant.
in Restaurants 0 comments
June 29, 2019  by

Two (Overlooked) Castles in Upper Bavaria: Burg Berghuasen and Saffig

Both come with small townships, local people and not a word of English

Ok. Maybe a word. Hello. that’s what we got and we were thankful for it. The rest of the time, we used Google Translate and smiled a lot.

Day two/37 amounted to three hundred miles , two castles, a butcher-bakery, finding our rental and trying to make an honest Bavarian food fair. Disappointment faded with the people, service and incredible cuisine however, and we ended the day at midnight, while I stayed up until 3 a.m. converting photos and writing blogs. ha.

No speed limits: everyone loves the Autobahn

Shooting down the Autobahn, where no speed limit exists, is the real reason we came to Europe, or so I teased him. He experienced nirvana for about 300 miles and I didn’t blink an eye. 100 mph are normal, and we were getting passed at 110. I won’t tell you how fast he got that Audi A6 touring mobile going as I want my mother alive and happy, not angry or dead.

Zipping through the mountains, we see this incredible (put perfectly normal) feat of German engineering–this unbelievable bridge connecting two mountains, and why? Because why go twenty miles around when that can be shortened to about 2, that’s why. No stopping allowed, so I did my best between trees going way-to-fast.

German roads are ‘da-bomb’ as my daughter said, and we made good time from Aachen through the countryside to our first stop at Burg Berghausen Castle in Keppen in upper Bavaria. This is a manor that didn’t even show up on Wikipedia or any other searches pre-trip, but our car (and Audi A6 touring sedan) showed it on our dashboard, we were going right by anyway, so thought, why not?

Each experience we created this day is special. The soaring tree which made us stop and say: God created this. The second was me thinking: I may need to write a book about a person inheriting a castle, and the last shot, with the girls, was taking as we hypothesized what the evening was going to be like for the couple getting married this evening, and the reception to be held on the deck behind us. What a night it will be for that couple.

It’s more of a manor than castle, but rightly got the designation because it has a bridge with a moat and lake at the backside. Across from the main building are large stables, servants quarters and substantial armory at the front entrance. It’s privately held, open only for special events, but walking the lawns and parks around is open and free. Muskrats the size of a small dog ate feet away from us, and a whole family of four (parents and little ones) waddled right on up expecting to be fed, as did the single, large swan in the lake and loads of ducks. The visit was short but impactful, with Rog and the girls identifying the muskrats and hundred-foot beech trees being their favorite parts.

The horse stables, side of the castle and another angle of the front
The world’s largest, tame muskrat, swan and servants quarters
Local eats in Keppen

Despite the luxurious foods offered at the rest stops, we wanted real German delicacies. Not two minutes in to town we found it at the town’s one and only butchery/bakery. Potato salad, the likes only found in my mother’s kitchen went hand in hand with marzipan and almond pastries, as well as sausage and cold cuts. It was sweet and salty, just the way I like it—so much that I took a pic of the mother-of-all bread making stoves and cajoled the owner to take a selfie. Her first ever. She was so embarrassed, she was fussing over her hair and giggling like a schoolgirl the entire time.

Today, Rog had his vehicular nirvana while mine was culinary. The marzipan pastry as long as Rog’s hand and the little town of Keppen. This was 5 pm-ish. Rush hour.

A note on Keppen: every person here has been incredibly kind and polite, but speak functional English (hello) at best.  We have not met a single person (in two days) who speaks conversational English, although we have two more days so things may change. I’ll keep you posted!

About ten minutes later, we were in Saffig, going up a dirt road to visit the local castle, which is only named Saffig Castle, another one that showed up on our Audio roadmap but not on Google or any listing anywhere! This castle is seriously old (13th century) and is undergoing complete restoration. Personally, I like the old, original stone, and we weren’t allowed to take any photos. Side note: we get that a lot, but usually ignore it, because it’s a ploy to get us to purchase stock photography. Yet sometimes, I ask for permission and get the wink and nod, thus allaying my guilt. That’s what happened with Castle Burg, but not here. I actually received a scowl instead of the nod, so I dutifully put away my camera, but did manage a single shot through the trees as we left the area.

My off-premises shot through the trees. See what I’m talking about on the restoration above? It looks fake and call me a traditionalist, but I like the original.
Our Bavarian rental

This time around, we wanted the fully country experience, which included cows, farmland, locals and meeting more German folks. We loved and appreciated going to towns where English wasn’t spoken at all, because it forced us to speak the language (or at least use Google Translate). Our desire came true with a home in Kammeltal, (pronounced like Camel-tall). From VRBO, we found the home, and are presently perched on the top floor of a two-story home, with three bedrooms, two baths, two balcony’s and modern kitchen, with views to overlooking the small town on one side, and farmland on the other. The backyard is grass, a trampoline and hothouse garden, all for our use. Check in time was 9, and we arrived at 8:40. It’s light here until 10:30, just like Coeur d’Alene. Our German hostess/owner and her family live below us, but we’ve only had a single sighting, which I expect will continue. The house, street and neighborhood are local, mostly older folks who ride their bikes the few blocks in to town—which is a completely different look, feel and style from Ashford, and that’s what we love. One day and veritable world away from what we experienced the day prior.

A few shots of our authentic Bavarian home
Baby room, front and back yard
What I love

People walk their dogs through farmland, which means strips of gravel separating wheat and corn fields, instead of paved paths alongside freeways or streets.

What I don’t

Only four restaurants exist that only has its name listed, without any other details. But the 4 km drive in one direction gives us one town, a 6 km drive in another direction gave us Gunzburg, and that’s where we went for dinner.

Gunzburg

Even before we knew that all four restaurants closed Friday night at 8 p.m. in Kammeltall, we were intending on hitting the food festival. Sadly, we missed that too! Yet the (slightly larger) town of Gunzburg has a much bigger Old-town/downtown (because a new/modern area doesn’t exist as of today). Fun fact: Gunzurg was founded in 70 b.c., although it does look slightly more updated. It features its own main square, where we found Greek, German and lots of outdoor pubs but after 9, only serve appetizers and drinks. Fortunately, one superb Italian restaurant is open until 11, and we were seated by the owner, referred to as “Uncle.” Love that. Pure Italian through and through, but has lived in Germany for 30 years. I’ll let the pictures do the talking, but suffice it to say we want to go back to Guntia again before we leave, eventho we will be in Italy for 5 days in another week.

Our dining experience in Gunburg was tops, the freshly made mozzarella caprese my favorite
Daughter number 1 passing out on #2’s lap, who then enjoys sparkling water at the white table clothe experience of Guntia
Feature photo: Burg Berghausen Castle
in Accommodations / Destinations / Restaurants 0 comments