europe

June 28, 2019  by

Ashford, Kent

From Manchester, through Eton and Windsor Castle, eating with the locals and preparing for the Channel Train

We’d traveled down from Manchester, choosing Ashford as the destination to spend the night, taking the channel train the following morning at 6:55 am. Sometimes, the best laid plans go awry, and we’d not been in Britain 24 hours when we learned that first hand, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

Why Ashford? It was logical, pure and simple.  We chose Manchester as the airport instead of Heathrow as a forcing function to see a bit of the countryside going down the country (think Leeds Castle, Windsor Castle in Slough) and the farmland. Because it has the EuroStar channel train, we planned to wake up, have breakfast at the B & B, drop off the car and walk to the terminal. On the return, it’s our intention to drive up the coast, wandering along the rocky shores, connecting with an author friend I met on Instagram and have now virtually known for four years.

Reality of driving from Manchester to Ashford

We had no clue about the traffic from Manchester all the way down to London. Like the States, Britain chooses to use the summer months for road construction. Instead of an easy four hours, it was more like a stop and go six, slowing the pace of travel to 50 km per hour. It was torture for both rog and myself, but cameras are everywhere, so we kept alongside the locals to be safe.

So, we had pa-lenty of time to enjoy the cows, sheep and other livestock dotting the lush, green countryside, my girls claiming they’ve never smelled such a strong odor in their lives. Personally, I didn’t mind. Nothing like being thrown back to memory of being on the Alberta farm where my father grew up, in the youthful days of summer, when we thought digging in cow-pies was fun and had no issue jumping in to the slow-moving, leach-ridden, cow-trodden river that ran around the base of dad’s farmland.

Along with way, we stopped half a dozen times, each time marveling at the rest-stops which are more akin to a nice park and a bit of San Diego shopping mall experience rolled into one. I made and posted a short video on Instagram with visuals, but think hardwood floors, curving leather and modern couches, individual and group gathering areas under skylights have been designed in the center of the building, with the shops on the outer rim.

As time grew short, we were in jeopardy of missing our check in time, making us take a rain check on Leeds Castle, but did do a swing by in Eton and the Slough area, which conjured images of my last visit. I spent a few days in the area, and in my free time, went for what I thought would be an easy run to Windsor Castle and back. I became woefully lost, ending up back at home in the near dark, but the next time, was determined to do better. Once again, I got myself lost. The saving grace was it ensured I saw (and re-saw) the old town, castle and backroad streets, searing the map in my mind, which helped us out.

The charm of Ashford, all off High Street (and within two blocks of the B & B)

Back on the road, we hustled to Ashford, making it by eight p.m. Rog had selected a bed and breakfast two blocks from old town. The older neighborhood is quaint and traditional, red brick stand-alone homes with attached. While Rog took care of some business, me and girls grabbed the camera and wandered about the neighborhood. During an hour’s walk, we encountered two cats and a one man, standing on his front doorstep smoking.

First time Bed & Breakfast: Hayesbank B & B

The Haysebank Bed & Breakfast is on the corner the tree lined street heading in to town, the red brick, three story building with attached cottage offering 11 bedrooms. Gabriel, the proprietor, is German, a lovely man who helped Rog guide his car in the small, parking area behind the restored home. The rooms are quaint but tidy, the mattresses perfect and like most European rooms, lack sheets. Just a bottom sheet and a comforter. First-timers to Europe are usually quite distressed by this detail, but I don’t even think of it anymore. (Rog tells me to include these finer points in my blogs in the hopes they increase the actual usefulness of the piece. What are husbands for if not continual improvement?)

L to R: Haysebank B & B, which is on the corner of this street (upper right) and bottom is the neighborhood. Lovely, quaint, quiet, safe, and just two blocks from town.

For dinner, we walked about two blocks west, across a street and under a portico we emerged to see Old Town, instantly transported to the 17th century. The girls remarked the buildings looked original, and most certainly the streets and narrow passages were intact and unchanged from the forefather’s layout.

(As I’m typing this piece as we ride the Eurostar through France, on the way to Brussels, thinking I should be looking outside—so I stop, and we are going by so stinking fast, I wouldn’t be able to take a picture if I wanted to. Oh well!)

The question of food

We searched for “authentic English” food, and you know what? Other than pubs, which aren’t the places to take our girls, instead, we found were Arab, Indian, Chinese and Mediterranean cuisine. It was a culinary melting pot, exactly what Britain has become and is. After twenty minutes of wandering, we gave up, going back to the Mediterranean, which was mix of Greek with a splash of middle eastern.

This is High Street, in Old Town, Ashford, Kent. About half-way down is The Fountain Kabob.

We were expecting Switzerland prices and serving sizes, but it was more like the outrageous portions of the Cheesecake Factory for under thirty dollars. I couldn’t eat half my meal, nor could the girls, and even Rog was hard pressed to finish his lamb and pita. The three gentleman at the Fountain Kabob on High Street, a hole in the wall eatery on the main old town street (and only establishment with a neon sign) were lovely.

Happy and full, we wandered up and down High Street, then branching off on either direction, ending up at St. Mary’s Church. It was closed to visitors but the grounds were open, and we did a full circle of the 17th century house of worship. The grounds are small but well-kept, the wrought iron fencing original.

St. Mary’s Church: straight out of a Pride & Prejudice novel
A neighborhood rap party

In bed by around ten thirty (well, they were, I was up until midnight), the breeze picked up, which was an answer to prayers, because it became very muggy around seven. The downside was someone, somewhere, in one of the local homes or flats, started blasting the UK version of Wiz Khalifa, LOUD. Now, I’m good with some wanna-be Wiz, but not at 1 a.m. on a school night. Ears ringing, windows rattling, the punctuated swear words like a rock hitting the wall, increasing in strength that it finally woke up Rog and Porsche, who can usually sleep through the zombie apocalypse. He mumbles for a bit, after at 2 a.m. rises and gives me warning: It’s coming.

Standing at the window, he shouts: “Are you kidding me? Can you turn it down please? We are trying to sleep!” Imagine Rog, yelling at the top of his lungs, waking the entire neighborhood as he seeks to quiet the music. Porsche jolts up right in bed, I hold my breath, wondering if we are going to have a incident far larger than the music itself, but the music turns shuts off immediately. The street goes dead silent. At that point, Porsche starts to mutter that on the scale of extreme, “Dad is a twelve,” she says. I start giggling, because I thought Rog sounded like a madman. The people upstairs, who’d been creaking around all night, also cease all movement. In fact, it seemed as though even the air was afraid to move because Rog might go postal.

Porsche continued wisecracking, which kept me laughing and we were up another hour. Hence, last night, I actually fell asleep at 3 a.m. and was up a bit before five.

Ashford Train station and final tips

The drop off area for rental cars at the Ashford Eurostar station is under construction, requiring a seriously out of the way drop off. Avis’ directions were worthless, and we spent over an hour going back and forth on a do-loop before it became clear we were going to miss the train through France to Belgium then on to Germany. That was $700 Euro I was not about to throw down the toilet.

“We are leaving the car in the lot,” I mandated, dropping the keys to security at the terminal and calling Avis. I hypothesized the price we may pay was far less than screwing up our entire itinerary. The great news is this: the attendant outside the Avis station (which was closed) willingly took the car keys, then the Eurostar manager (an equally pleasant gal) accepted our tickets, learned of our plight and sent a note to management, and in five minutes we were going through French customs just in time to be led to platform 4 for boarding. The girls thought it downright Harry Potter, the only difference being the bullet-like train speeding forth minutes after we made it to the platform.

The march from the international train to the massive, city-like structure within Aachen, Germany. Marble walls, clean floors, quiet and sooth running, like most German things.

Another tip (while I’m thinking about it). We saved the money for the Ashford to Brussels leg of the trip, purchasing economy. It’s open seating (not assigned) and we lucked out with the girls getting two seats together. Me and Rog are spread out, but his mate is working and mine is sleeping, most of the occupants (as I surreptitiously glance around) are professionals heading to the city, and a few mid-twenties men clearly way too spry for this time of the morning. Quiet and comfortable, even economy is a great experience, no food or wi-fi, but plug-ins galore. The next leg is business class, assigned seating with tables and I’m hoping for a few photo opps.

Am I working at all??

For five of the nine-hour flight from Seattle to Manchester, I wrote the framework for two new books. I felt like a prisoner released on parole, because three months ago, Rog mandated I not start outlining or work on a new book, but focus on the family and travel blogs. Needless to say, the dam burst forth, but I’m telling you what. Like an explosion of water, what erupted from my mind was messy! After being out of it for that long, it felt as though my desire was cruising along in fifth but my car was struggling between first and second. It may turn out what I wrote ends up in the garbage, and that’s ok. At least I was able to get back to it, and it felt good.

Feature Image: off High Street in Ashford, an original building now housing an Indian food restaurant. A completely modern day representation of old and new worlds unified.
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June 23, 2019  by

The Divinity of the Duomo Cathedral

The must-do of Milan

What would take us away from sunny Lake Como south to Milan? The Duomo Cathedral truly one of the most magnificent churches ever built. The construction required thousands of skilling craftsman, each specialized in their own trade, passing along their expertise and tribal knowledge through generations of time. After hundreds of years and plenty of archbishops, the Duomo stands as a testament to the ingenuity and sheer determination.

A view from the main worship area within the cathedral
The journey & parking

Milan, (or Milano, as the locals and country signs call it) is a city of approximately four million. The drive from Como took approximately four hours. Having never had our own car in Milan before, we were initially hesitant, then had a moment of clarity. We drive all over the place, from Los Angeles to New York, Berlin to Boston, which are far larger. Milan proved to be a piece of cake. Straight in we went, found street parking for a few bucks, and even got a caprese appetizer on a side street before walking a few blocks to the cathedral.

We arrived to find a part of the cathedral under reconstruction, and a whole lot of military personnel protecting the national landmark. Neither bother nor obstructed us whatsoever. The main square was less than half-full, the day overcast and cool. In other words, a perfect day to visit.

Every entrance is guarded (as you can see behind me) and parking on some of the closets streets is only for service or military vehicles
The fees and expectations

If you want to take your own photos, an extra charge of $5 is required, but completely worth it. The columns, stained glass windows, and 15,800 pipe organ make it worth the money. Because it was a slow day, the inside wasn’t crowded in the slightest, which was a good thing; the mausoleums holding the deceased archbishops were worth snapping a photo, which we did multiple times.

Street parking all around–this was a Thursday afternoon

The tourist information identifies which archbishop was responsible for a particular section of the Duomo, which shows the link between general manager, if you will, and what was created. Imagine the vision of these guys, who knew their contribution was vital, but they’d never see the completed work in their lifetime—or for several lifetimes to come. Talk about commitment. Most of us can’t see a few years in front our faces, let alone decades or centuries.

My number one recommendation is don’t go when service is in session!

My mother plays the organ, so I’m a bit familiar with the instrument. The long, metal rods scaling up from the balconies make it the largest organ in Italy, and in the top 15 instruments in the world.

Beyond the cathedral

If churches, architecture or history isn’t your thing, don’t despair. The Duomo Square has shopping area known as the Piazza Del Duomo. Think the Mercedes Benz clothing/jewelry store and the like, along with multiple outdoor eateries. If your traveling partner is at the Domo, you can easily spend an hour wandering through the shops or taking in a hot, chocolate mousse drink as I did (which was more like pudding, actually).

The entire visit will run you no more than two-four hours, depending on your tastes. That leaves a lot of time to explore other parts of the city.

Just one of many, many entrance doors
What I liked best

All if it, the area, the cathedral, shopping, eateries, you name it. I even got the military guards to smile and take a picture with me, and they accommodated!

What I liked least

Nothing. Nada. It was as perfect as the day could get.

Feature image: The Domo, taken from the main square
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June 23, 2019  by

The best of Bellagio

Lake Como, Italy is more than a single body of water

“Are we going back to Bellagio?” is how Rog remembers asking the question. My recollection is slightly different. I thought it was more akin to “We are going back to Bellagio,” the statement said with a bit of force.

The town holds a singular point of divinity for Rog, which would similar to a devout Christian would think of the Garden of Eden being placed in your back yard. In other words, heaven on Earth. Nope, this isn’t the hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada mind you, but the slim peninsula situated on Lake Como.

The beauty of the Italian Alps–this was just a random stop at a persons home, and I couldn’t resist (they were polite and pleased I adored their home/view)
It’s all about the food

The similarity centers on food, the apple in one instance, but meats, cheese, and yes, a few apples on this one. You see, by the time we arrived in Bellagio, we were starved. We roamed the streets, getting in a few sites before stopping at a restaurant situated half-way up a narrow allow, but wide enough o allow a two-person table. We took the waiters recommendation, ordering what we thought would be an appetizer-size plate. It turned out to similar in size to a large pizza, the wooden plate laden with an assortment of cold cuts, cheeses and fruits, fresh bread, crackers and all types of jams.

This was culinary nirvana for Rog: massive quantities of the authentic fair. So it is that we are taking the girls back this summer, his hope to find this exact eatery once again and replay the experience that made such an imprint. Shopping? Yeah, we did that, purchasing items for relatives at seriously discounted prices given the currency exchange. The ferry ride? Check. Walking the waterfront? Yep. Traipsing up and down the narrow streets, indulging in the local gelato? You betcha. But nothing…nothing ranks up there in Rog’s mind like that platter of food. Me? I was along for the ride, literally. I loved it all.

Narrow streets (this was actually one of the wider ones), no lane markers, the motorcylists racing between cars already packed like sardines in a can. This is where I got the idea to have one of my lead characters in the Danielle Grant series die while on his motorcycle. It’s real!
The journey, and I’m going to throw in Menaggio and a bit of the Lake itself

This day trip to Bellagio started out as a one-day itinerary once we arrived in Lake Como. To the uninitiated, the locals, and Italians spell the lake Como, pronouncing it “oh,” as in Lake “Coh-moe”, slightly different that Americans, who tend to spell it “Cue—oh-moe”, and spell it with a ‘u’. It doesn’t really matter, because the either way, it’s big, diverse and takes a while to drive around.

From Zurich, we went over the Swiss Alps, using the road favored by touring bikers (motorcyclists) and the sports cars who thrive on the twisty-turvy road. Along the way, you encounter the Contra Dam, cows and a dramatic change of scenery (which I partially cover in my blog on those topics).

What we didn’t expect to see was such a dramatic change once we reached the top of the mountains, seeing the planted Italian flag. The differences were stark. The roads, just as twisty, were not as well maintained, so we had to be careful of the potholes and general condition, yet we were so captivated with the views and architecture of the hillside homes it didn’t matter. Mountain lakes like Lake Lugano were dark grey, the clouds giving the glossy covers a matte finished look. The roughly three-hour drive from Zurich ended when we hit the first down on Lake Cuomo, Menaggio.

The top of the mountain has a mother Mary statue for safe passage of travelers. I was safe but I was cold!
A plethora of towns

Unlike my adopted home town of Lake Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, which is 22 miles long, and retains the name wherever you are actually located, Como has townships dotting the shoreline. In the States, certain areas are named (Loffs Bay, Mica Flats, etc.) but those are informal neighborhoods. On Como, each township is just that: its own town, with a center, police force etc. We stayed in Menaggio at the north end, choosing a place right close to the tunnel for ease of access to what we’d call a freeway, but is more like a narrow, two-lane road. We also desired a pool, (thinking it was going to be hotter than it was), parking (hard to come by) walking distance to the center of town and most of all, the ferry.

Menaggio offered all of that, but then we learned, so do many other little areas. This summer we decided to be closer to Bellagio and are staying on the opposite side of the lake in Verena, the ferry ride to Bellagio about five minutes, versus the fifteen from Menaggio.

The official marker in to Italy was anti-climactic. I wanted officers and a stamp (as I wrote in one of my novels) and I got crickets.
Hillside rentals

The relatively low prices of rentals on the lake are what astounds most folks (Americans) we speak with. I believe it’s because the impression is one of such exclusivity for the lake itself as the vacation spot for celebrities and the wealthy. The reality is the hills are full of vineyards cared for by the full-timers, and the price of top floor penthouse is less than $2,000 US for ten days, the private elevator, parking, three-bedroom, three-bathroom flat with five decks a bargain.

Top deck view, the tunnel to the North in the background. It was quiet however, barely a sound. The hill behind our flat were vineyards.
Back to Bellagio

The first time we visited Bellagio, we decided to drive, and it was a journey of about five hours all the way down and around the southern tip of the lake, then up to the peninsula. Nope, we had no idea it was going to take this long, but with only a single, extremely narrow road to navigate and a ton of stop lights, we made it as quickly as possible. Needless to say, we took the ferry on the return trip, and the journey was shortened by about 5 hours (it was only a fifteen-minute ride across the lake!)

The ferry schedule is every thirty minutes all day, docking portside to the center of town

Bellagio has two faces, really. The center of town, which is flat and lakeside. This is where quite a few of the major shopping takes place (think Hermes and the like). Yet dozens (hundreds?) of smaller boutiques with Italian goods dot the steep alleys that extend from the center up the hills. The majority are perhaps the size of my living room, crowded with silks of all types, jewelry, shoes or purses—the kind of things favored by women from out of town (me!). You’d think I would go crazy, but actually, I didn’t. I stopped after purchasing a few leather bracelets, because I’d seen quite a few of the same items in Lugano (another township) at a lower price—roughly 30%. I held my money and went back to Lugano to purchase a purse and a few other things, still enjoying the experience of Bellagio without feeling like an irresponsible shopper. To give you an example, a purse I’d seen in the US was $700. In Bellagio, that same purse was $500, which is quite a discount. In Lugano, it was $300. No that’s called savings.

Steep, narrow walkways–this was one of the less traveled–others can be wall-to-wall people

The other face of Bellagio is just outside the center, within walking distance, and it’s what I’d call the local areas. Lovely, mostly empty beaches, gardens and what I’d call sitting areas—secluded spots with benches for sitting and watching the ducks on the water. We could only rationalize that those who come to this lake want to “be seen” at the hotspots either on a boat or on a packed beach, rather than enjoy the quiet and romance that’s actually available and free! So it was that we went exploring and, in an hour, counted four different waterside areas, all in the area of Bellagio, all as free of people as the next one. On several occasions, these public areas were right next to high-end hotels. Glancing through the trees separating hotel from the public area, we saw the pool area packed with sunbathers, the chairs right next to one another. It’s all a matter of preference, we surmised. If you want to come to the lake, sit poolside and be pampered, then you have plenty of options.

Lakeside pools offer slips for boats but also much warmer water than the glacier-fed lake
The waterfront

By now, you are probably sick of reading my commentary on “the waterfront” of whatever lake we’ve visited. Sorry, it’s going to continue. Upon reflection of my seeming obsession with waterfronts, perhaps it’s because they are all so different—country to country and town to town. Such care and attention is given to the trees, pathways and facilities, more than often I feel like I’m in some version of Cinderella’s castle and the ferry godmother is going to pop out and grant me a wish.

The lovely (and basically empty) pathway leading to the center of Bellagio

And on that note, don’t be afraid to drive that rental car to Lake Como or pick one up when you arrive. Parking is plentiful in the Lake and surrounding areas. Not all rental homes have parking, but many do, as well as the hotels.

What I liked best

Each township has its own vibe, culture, eateries and destinations to see. It’s no wonder people come for a month and spend days roaming the 146-kilometer areas. If you are bored and want to visit the celebrities, I found this guide just for you, which also gives you some options as to how to best get to the lake.

Up the hillside are villas and wineries
What I liked least

The driving! Whoa, never in our lives have we encountered the insanity of the one-way, narrow, basically lawless driving along the lakeshore, particularly between and within the smallest of the townships. Because we have gone at the beginning of the summer (June and to mid-July), instead of the high season, which is August, we didn’t even experience the worst of it, but what we did encounter was enough. Oh well, it’s part of the experience.

Feature image: taken from the deck of the flat


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June 23, 2019  by

St. Moritz, crossing the Swiss Alps, Italy, oligarchs and cows

When the destinations create the scene

Today we spent the afternoon with an executive from a research firm and his voice over actress wife. As we toured the neighborhood, the conversation eventually went to the subject of travel, and if my journeys inspire my novels, or was it the other way around? Did I get an idea of a destination and then go there for the final research?

That led me thinking and discussing Switzerland, which is off schedule for my blogs, but I’m pausing to cover a few areas I realized I’d completely skipped over. The Swiss Alps, the “James Bond” Dam, handcrafted homes perched on the hillsides, defying the natural laws of gravity, the homes of the Russian oligarchs in St. Moritz, along with the painfully expensive whole hazelnut chocolate bars and handmade clothes in town, and last but not least, the cows. Yes, the cows, but I’ll get back to that.

Each and every one of those items found a mention in my books. For this piece, I’m mixing it up. Rather than give you the standard play-by-play route we took during this particular trip that served up the creative buffet, I’ll break it down in to the scenes I wrote. A fun change for me and perhaps more interesting for you.

Zurich

In a previous blog on the penthouse we rented, I mentioned the tree-lined streets along Lake Zurich, my fictitious, but not totally fictitious wealth management building. I witnessed a father in an overcoat, exiting a U-shaped building eerily similar to the Walldorf-Astoria in New York. He had a young boy and girl on either side, equally well-dressed.

The drive out of Zurich leads along the river, then up to the mountains, but this road was chock full of road bikers–and by that, I mean BMW touring bikes. Lots of them.

I thought to myself: he looks like a serious billionaire, and those are his fortunate offspring. It was the place a man like Lars Egle, one of the lead characters would live, and that’s where Danielle inadvertently runs in to Lars in the lobby near the end of Made for Me. The scene was exactly as I imagined, and it all came about watching that split-second interaction of the father and children. (I thought taking a pic was tacky, but more importantly, I couldn’t get my camera out fast enough and missed the pic).

On the way up and it’s getting colder–but I refused to put on a coat until the very top
The cows

Leaving the city, driving alongside the river to the Alps was another scene, this time with Andre, Danielle’s first love in Zurich (also in Made for Me). Escaping their struggle in their lives, they ride his motorcycle out of town, going up the beautiful, windy hills, seeing the cows. The inspiration for this was the very ride we took on our way to Milan, with a stop through to St. Moritz. We ogled at the green river to our left which looked more like a flowing glacier than river. The cows were so large and the fur seemingly so soft, we stopped the car, got out, and approached. They had the massive, old-school cowbells that I didn’t actually think existed outside the movies. The fence was a flimsy little thing, which wouldn’t deter a thief whatsoever, and the cow was completely unconcerned when I rubbed its head. Now, this may come across as odd, but I’ve touched a lot of cow hide-it had been rough, not smooth. This breed of Swiss cow was more like cashmere. I was so taken with the entirety I mentioned in the book, along with a grove where Andre and Danielle have a romantic interlude.

Yeah. The cows inspired that—and I really love that scene.

Look at that fur. You can see from the photo it looks like the hair on a child!
Not just in postcards or promotional videos. This is the real deal–the actual road. I snapped this as I turned around in the car to get “the view down the hill.”

This road had a scene between Kaitlyn and Rick, where he pulls over and asks they set aside their “convenient date” status to be something that’s special to this place and time in their lives.

The James Bond Dam

In actuality, this is called the Contra Dam, as well as the Verzasca or Locarno Dam, was made famous worldwide in Goldeneye when (as stunt man, standing in for) Pierce Brosnan bungee jumps over the edge, straight down, fires the gun, locks it, then penetrates the soviet stronghold. I’m telling you what: never in all my life have I seen a dam like this, and I’d thought the Hoover Dam outside Las Vegas was impressive. Not even close. Perhaps my long lens would have captured the magnificence a bit better, but my shorty had to do. The Dam gets a mention in several books, not just one.

Contra Dam–the best shot from the road looking up
St. Moritz

Now this town had its inspiration in my dad, who often spoke of going to St. Moritz (pronounced San, not Saint) when he was a young man, then later as he traveled for business. He’d speak of the town, the food and above all, the ability to get custom clothes and shoes made. It would be decades until I got to experience the town myself, and my that time, it had been so built up in my mind I wasn’t sure if it was going to meet expectations. Well, it exceeded all I’d imagined. The streets were/are still narrow yet uncrowded. The small shops with exquisitely made, half-million dollar watches next to an ounce of hazelnut chocolate for $15 francs and cashmere clothes that made me drool. I wrote about all these items in A Convenient Date, where the lead characters, Kaitlyn Reid and Rick Santos visit the small town for a conference.

Everything is appropriately expensive in this lovely little town, from watches to chocolate. I purchased the chocolate:-
The gondola ride and the Russian Oligarch

Now this was fun and totally unexpected. In June, the snow is gone, but St. Moritz is still rather chilly. Rog and I had been discussing (aka arguing) about where to stop and eat, but it was sort-of between seasons (ski/winter and summer/tourist), which meant most of the places weren’t open. Undecided, we went to the gondola and took a ride. In we went, over the town and up mountain, getting the birds-eye view of the spectacular homes resembling fortresses on the mountain. At that moment, I visualized a scene with Lars and Danielle (back to Made for Me), riding the gondola, her asking him about the home, and him telling her it was the resident of a client, a Russian oligarch.

After the gondola ride, we were able to take the car and go directly up the roads. No gates, no security guards. I guess St. Moritz is so secure and area so safe, no one bothers with such piddly things.
By this time, I donned my coat (still in St. Moritz), but Rog is sporting shorts and a t-shirt like it’s warm.
The crossing in to Italy

You can imagine my depression when we slowed down at the border between Switzerland and Italy, thinking the Italian guards were at least going to check our passports. They barely looked up before waving us through. I was ready, passport in hand, when Roger looked at me some undiluted pity. “That’s the whole point of the Eurozone.” Duh. I moped, putting it away, feeling stupid, but still disappointed. I channeled this scene in to A Convenient Date, when Rick takes Kaitlyn for a drive to his childhood home on Lake Como. On the way, she remarks on the slate-topped homes of Italy, which were so very different from those in Switzerland.

Slate, slate, slate….the change in materials once in Italy was dramatic and powerful
Feature image: the hills of the Alps, outside St. Moritz


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June 16, 2019  by

A penthouse in Zurich

When we arrived in Zurich, the drive across the bridge, then shoreline conjured visions of romance. How could it not? Glimpsing a couple walking under the trees lining the lake, I rolled down the window, feeling the breeze, watching the sailboarders zip by, wondering…what would it be like to live here, work at a high powered job, go to clubs and find love? ahh….that was the beginning of the Danielle Grant series, the last book which just released.

This was the first picture I snapped driving in to Zurich, going across the bridge to the (west) side of the lake where our place was located. Looks like just about every other lakefront strolling area….until you see the magnificent buildings on the left.

One of the elements I love about Zurich is modern convenience with trolleys and cobblestones, the metro quietly zipping through town, yogi’s on bikes navigating between Lambo’s and Ferrari’s. I also loved (and hated) the narrow paths leading up the very steep hillsides. Great for my calves but oh….hard on my fanny. Because they made (and left) such an impression, I use them to my advantage in each book of the series…up and down in the sun and snow.

The narrowed paths between the buildings in Zurich–the coolest little bars and hard to find delis were hidden in these alleys/paths.
Recall the scene where Lars and Danielle break up. right there, on that couch facing the fireplace. Imagine the fern replaced with a Christmas tree and grab a tissue.

There is was. The beginning of the three-book series on Danielle Grant, an American trader recruited to Switzerland. Of course, Danielle Grant, the lead character, didn’t come to mind until later, as we explored the streets of Zurich, noting the incredible number of wealth management and financial institutions. The owner of the unit is a physician, and while I initially thought that was interesting, the fast-paced, secretive world of trading appealed to me. Besides, the physician’s well-built, tattooed, very handsome but slightly mentally underpowered boyfriend was simply not believable—or rather, a reader would think it was cliché. The hot doctor (she was hot, and blond, and brilliant) with an equally hot enforcer-like boyfriend was beyond the realm of reality. I know you are thinking: but that would be cool?! Well, I thought it cool as well, but wouldn’t sell, and as I’ve already digressed terribly, I will tell you I raised this scenario up to my agent, who agreed with my initial feeling.

“Nope, you’re right,” he said immediately. “It is cliché and unbelievable.”

“But I actually witnessed this!” I said with frustration. Not that I was going to run with it anyway, but the notion that real life wasn’t acceptable was annoying.

“Sad but true,” Peter reaffirmed.

Let’s just have a collective sigh together and move on.

As I dutifully kept my eyes off the boyfriend and paid attention to the physician, I appreciated everything about the building, unit and details therein—all of which made their way into Made for Me, book on. When she slid in the card for the penthouse located on the fifth floor, I was impressed. The two-bedroom flat with views of the lake from every room was lovely. All glass and modern, shiny counters and cabinets, metallic tile butting against French maple—the vision was coming together. The grand piano in the living, the glass-enclosed dining room with sliding doors, the sauna off the second bedroom. I wondered to myself—who lived like this, really? I asked the physician.

“I have a much smaller flat downtown closer to my office,” she said. Okay, that answered the question. Not her. She then offered she has five similar units in other cities around the country (Bern, Lucerne, St. Moritz to name a few) and this was her second business. Rog was impressed.

Office on the other side of the glass-enclosed dining room, and the right is a (pretty poor) shot of the master bathroom, built-in sauna on the left side
Not behind in the scenes. In the scenes

Volumes have been written about real life inspirations behind a character, scene or setting, and I have fun blending fact with fiction, or rather, improving fact when I want something a little off. Well, I will give full credit to the unit’s owner who made it really easy for me to catalog every detail, up to and including the 5-inch solid steel door. It also came with five, count them five, different locks. So, imagine this: secured building, private elevator, five-inch steel door with five locks. It’s Switzerland, as I say in my book, the safest country in the world. Wasn’t this a little bit of overkill?

“One can never be too secure,” was the physician’s answer. Well then.

Upper left: one of the two decks opening up with views to Lake Zurich, Upper right, view from the kitchen, over modern office buildings (aka pull the blinds!) the bottom pic is on the waterfront, a ten minute walk from our rental to downtown along the waterfront
Left: Imagine this hallway where Danielle greets Andre in the foyer, and then upper right, in the second bedroom, which she transforms into a second bedroom

A little factoid in the book is the heat of the city. Few, if any, places in the city have air conditioning outside the hotels. The logic is that for the few weeks a year its unbearable, the winds gust off the lake, and up the hillside (or the reverse). In fact, our landlord told us that we were going to be liable if we left the penthouse without drawing in the awnings covering the decks. So we’d close everything up in the morning, arrive in the afternoon, open the windows and it cooled down immediately. The evenings were lovely.

Back to the door….

Guess what kind of door we have in Idaho, on a property in the middle of nowhere, which has a gate, and lots of security. Yep. That five-inch steel door. But lest you think we got crazy and had it especially installed, we didn’t. The house came this way. You see, the previous owner is a Swiss architect who built it for himself, and told us the same thing: “All good homes have doors like this.” Well then, there it is. At least he didn’t put on the five different locks.

Seriously, you just can’t make this stuff up. Five solid inches of steel in our front door, emulating just about every front door we’ve had in Zurich.
Feature image: A water Polize, who’s big task for the afternoon was saving two geese that were ensnared in a net. The crowd cheered, including us.
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May 29, 2019  by

Old Town, New Town and everything in between

Wenceslas Square, Noah’s Arc and Donuts

Just as one moves between the towns of Hayden to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho by crossing Prairie Street, a visitor in Prague walks from Old Town to New Town by crossing the road as well. Yet each foot equals a hundred years because the two experiences couldn’t be more different.

The famous Wencelas statue

The square is named after Saint Wenceslas, the patron saint of Bohemia, and is considered the historic centre of Prague, a World Heritage Site. To pause and clarify one item that confused us American’s, the New Town is invariably referred to as a “Square,” but it’s’ really a rectangle, whereas Old Town really is a square! This super long boulevard (what the French would call it, American’s would just say Street), the parking is easy to find right on main street. On the furthest end from Old Town, is the Czech National Museum. This is a wonderfully beautiful building, boasting the Wenceslas statue front and center.



Just around the corner and down 50 feet is the Metro . Entry and exit points are on either side of the Museum because a main, super busy street dissects the area

Of all the exhibits we saw, the girls loved the Noah’s Arc most. It’s a mini-Arc, with bent wood, animals and all sorts of other items believed to be in the Arc. It’s not the full Arc, but only half and then opened on one side. The sculpted wood is soft and rounded, the animals placed around the two-story area, which is fully accessible.

Over the week we spent in the country, we learned the Czech Republic is quite a religious country with strong, outspoken and unrepentant beliefs. We were told outright that those who didn’t eat certain foods weren’t welcome, just as we were told by restaurateur’s that we weren’t welcome with our children. One thing you can be sure of, you always know where you stand in this culture, and we really enjoy. A visitor doesn’t go in to another country expecting a change in values; you accept and embrace what it is or don’t go. (And that’s my strongly held belief!)

Upper left: A (bad) photo of the Arc area. Upper right: Daddy-daughter with “Lucy,” Lower left: recreation for an actual murder scene (yikes), Lower right: mummy

I’ve already covered the Death Exhibit in another blog, so won’t repeat myself, but it’s worth seeing, especially the mock-up murder scene. That gave me chills actually.

Electronics and donuts

You won’t starve in New Town nor will you lack for electronics. We “misplaced,” computer cords, broke a phone and something else I’ve conveniently blocked from my memory, but we went to the local electronics store thrice (yeah, I went old-English for a sec).

When one needs a piece of electronic equipment, one needs a donut. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you a name because the stations of donuts are roving around, but typically on the southwest end (opposite the Museum and closest to Old Town) on a corner to get the maximum exposure.

The Metro is right below

We took the Metro all around the Prague area as much as we could, and loved the fact that the main Metro station is right below the Boulevard. Drop down in to any terminal, jump on the line you need and off you go. A single above-ground tram operates, but the distance and routes are somewhat limited and quite crowded, but we road it once, just for the heck of it.

Featured Image: The Prague National Museum (Praha)
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May 26, 2019  by

Back to Brussels

Family friendly top stops

Visiting this city was more about us, the adults, than the kids. You see, we made the mistake of going to Brussels at the end of a month on the road, and the kids were more excited to lay by the pool at the home we’d rented in Tervuren than wandering around to see yet more buildings or manicured parks. The rain killed that idea, and faced with being at the rental home, as nice as it was, got us out and about. We are glad we ventured to hit the top stops in the city; the others around we’d already been to and I’ve written up (see last paragraph).

One side of the Royal Palace: open July 21 through September
Warning to the out of towners (e.g. Americans)

The cell coverage is seriously intermittent in parts of the city, and after we’d seen our sites, found ourselves in a very unsafe area. Since the cell signal wasn’t picking up, my girls saw a few things that unfortunately, they can’t unsee. On one hand, it was seriously unsafe, and is a side effect of driving yourself. Yet, even as I write this, I must point out that this one really strange, scary detour is the thing we discuss most about Brussels because we saw the “real” city, as opposed to the beautifully manicured part visible to most tourists.


One of the unique characteristics of Brussels we loved were the flower trees built around light posts or trees. A street might be considered “shopping” caliber full of boutiques, or a bit more downtrodden, but the added touches around town meant an eye for detail we appreciated.
Better when done wet

From the moment we drove from Tervuren in to the city, we were so pleased with the relative emptiness of the streets and the speed at which everyone travels. It was positively invigorating to have Rog drive normal and not like the Swiss, who are restricted by the absurdly confining rules of 45 miles an hour practically everywhere. I fear I left permanent nail imprint marks on the passenger door as a way of releasing my frustration. But I digress.

No such issues plagued me in this “beautiful but boring” city as my nine-year-old dubbed it. Entering the city is majestic, the thoroughfair providing the perfect photo of the arch, power lines aside. (As an aside, regular readers know I don’t photoshop my work, firstly because I don’t have the software, the desire to purchase or learn how to use it, nor do I have the time. What you get is what a visitor will actually see, cloud cover and all).

Yeah, I know. Me and “my thing” for colorful doors. I can’t help myself

Being most recently from Seattle, we are used to clouds, but I’ll admit I was wholly unprepared for all  dark grey and rain in late July. After we’d returned to Tervuren, I asked the owner of the home, a flight attendant, about the weather.

“I’ve heard it’s a lot like Seattle, Washington,” he remarked. “This is standard July weather.” Huh. Maybe that’s why the five-bedroom, beautifully appointed home with the pool sitting right beside the Empress’s Palace was so inexpensive, for who, in their right mind would ever come to Brussels in July?

Unwitting American tourists, that’s who. Still, it was a fabulous bargain, we did use the pool one day out of eight (if you count two hours between storms as using it) and it forced us to explore the surrounding countries with more vigor that we might have if the weather had been good.

Shopping and wandering in to cafes (or chocolate shops) is the best
Check the calendar

The Royal Palace in downtown Brussels is great, well, from the outside. It was no wonder we found street parking because we came the day before it opens to the public. ARGGGG!!!. We’d failed to read the fine print on the website (or our phones) that identified in black and white that the Palace opens for tours starting the 21 of July through September. We literally missed it by a single day.

You can zip through the photos that identify exactly what I’d wanted to see…the grand ballroom, the small and large white rooms, the Empire Room, the antechamber…man, all those will remain, for me, things I have only seen in photos on line.

So. Depressing.

You are now saying: “Who cares? You can see it when you go back.” The truth table here is that we aren’t hitting Brussels in our upcoming trip and I can’t see us going back for a while. Compared to the exotic nature of other places to see and things to do, it’s unlikely. I console myself that the digital pics on the internet are far better than what I could take in any case.

For those of you with children, I wish I’d seen this site for kids on the monarchy prior to going. At least it would have been educational, informational and fun for them in the car.

The Cinquantenaire Park is awesome (for the adults) because the majesty of the structure got no more than a gnat-like look from our girls.

We meandered the park as long as it took to get our kids to pose for some photos then piled back in to the car at made it to the Aboretum. This Aboretum is another word for Park Tervuren, which I covered in another blog. Then it was the Antomium, which deserved its own write-up as well.

Feature picture: a view of the street from the Royal Palace

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May 26, 2019  by

Top castles around Prague

Close and far, Karlstejn and Cesky are not to be missed

When we were visiting the Karlstejn Castle outside Prague, I had roughly ten minutes of wait-time while Roger waited in the ticket line with the girls. Me being me, I’m scoping the scene before me, immediately zoning in on a tall man with a slobbering bull mastiff by his side. I wander over, dropping down to my knees, asking if I can pet his beautiful male mastiff. His eyebrows raised, and then it occurred to me I was awfully arrogant thinking the man could speak English.

“Of course, you may,” he replied in perfect English albeit with a Czech accent.

We get to talking because I’m an author, I ask questions, and learn the dogs name is Saffron, as in the herb. The reason he was outside the castle instead of in, was because it has a no dogs allowed policy, which he didn’t know. I learn he’s a contractor who specializes in private homes, and was a wealth of information what to see and visit.

The wonderful man who told us about Czesky and let me pet his beautiful mastiff Saffron!

“Have you been to Cesky Krumlov?” he asked me. Before I could answer, he told me I definitely need to go. “It’s the best thing you’ll see in the Republic.”

That was quite a statement, especially since we’d been in and around Prague, but he was so fervent I told Rog about it, and after we finished with our day at Karlstejn Castle, we cleared the deck for the next day and went.

KarlstejnCastle

This is a castle on the smaller side compared to Czesky Krumlov and the Prague Castle, but it has features we enjoyed. The 30-minute walk up on the white stones, and the tour takes less than an hour. The services are quite limited in terms of food and gifts, but the views are lovely. Because of its convenience to Prague, and it’s Gothic structure, it’s considered one of the top tourists’ destinations. You might think it would be really busy, but it wasn’t. We walked right up, and twenty minutes later we were in.

The walk up to Karlstejn almost resembles this rocky terrain–kidding–not kidding. It’s the opposite of Cesky

A few of my favorite snapshot memories are the small gardens below the walkways connecting the two buildings that were used for the ladies of the castle. The tour was also fantastic. We were incredibly grateful the majority of our small group of 12 spoke English (we were with a group of Australians) or we would have had to hear the tour in German and their rules is majority rules.

The original walkways connecting the buildings and the outer gardens below

What struck us most about this building were the size of the rooms, which are all compact, but we understood why when we got to the staterooms. The original, wooden beds where the King slept was sooo small!! And the height of the doorways was also very small. Back then, the people overall, were quite a bit shorter than we are today. The paintings were amazing, and we were most struck by the room where all the portraits of the royals hung around the room. The chapel stands out, and above all, near the end of the tour, we saw the replicas of all the tiaras and jewels. The real ones had long since been replaced with fakes, but they were still pretty neat to see (boy, those real jewels are HUGE).


Cesky Krumlov and the town of Cesky

According the history, the town of Krumlov was created around the castle by the Lords of Krumlov. Over 300 medieval buildings surround the town, along with the Vltava River. The grounds are large, the river wandering around the base of the castle goes through the town and beyond. We parked probably ten minutes from the castle, and walked through the town to get to the castle. Unlike the short tour of Karlstejn, this castle and town requires a day trip.

An original lower entrance for Cesky, and the Vltava River where you can boat, canoe or swim alongside

Forty buildings reside in the castle complex, with galleries, towers, churches, most open to the public. We thought one of the greatest parts was walking up the long entry way used by the previous Lords of the castle. Imagine being in a horse-drawn carriage and entering a long, stone laid driveway that’s 100% covered, the ground treatment perfectly laid and matched in the color of muted yellow. As I mentioned to Rog, it was the medieval version of the Batcave entrance except above ground.

The drive for those in the carriage might have been a few minutes, but to walk, it was about twenty. You go up, and up, and up, and I regret not taking pictures, but I was working hard!

Sorry about the iPhone pics but this was the best I could do! Left: the restaurant we ended up eating at (where they were nice–keep reading), right: walking from town to the Castle.

Then the levels and options within the castle are many, as are the perches, each providing unobstructed views down to the town. The original Lords knew how to position the castle, but we didn’t see a single view which wasn’t magnificent.

Almost lost a daughter

One of the things we love about Europe is the general lack of rules, restrictions and sometimes, guardrails. If you see a dangerous animal and want to put your hand it, no second line of protection stops you. It’s more like the universal DNA test of nature; if you are dumb enough to stick your hand in, then you deserve to lose it.

Colorful and quaint is the town

So, it was with Cesky Krumlov. No long-fanged carnivores, but multiple ledges without protective rails. My precocious six-year-old jumped up on one ledge and nearly toppled over the edge, which would have been a 700-foot drop to their death. I’d been partially turned to Rog when she leapt up, turned just in time to grab her foot while my other daughter caught her waist. We were able to stop her forward momentum, my oldest daughter at nine and myself just held her tight, and then I pretty much lost it. Never before or since have I ever gotten that close to death, and all I can say is this: watch your kids because it’s Europe, and I’m pretty sure I was the one who’d have been arrested for not being mindful.

A pic of the town of Cesky through a peek-hole, and the embrace after our youngest almost fell off the ledge….still shaking.

The trip is going to take you roughly 4-5 hours, because we kept to the speed limit and it was 4.5. We arrived around eleven, just as it started to sprinkle, but it stopped as we were inside, and we thought the grey clouds totally romantic. The tour we took was in English and completely worth it.

We then went down in to town for dinner, taking our time to walk up and down the streets. From the small, original bridges covering the brooks and streams to the bistros, cafes and restaurants, we were enchanted.

We had only one unfortunate experience during our time in Cesky, and this actually was relatively common in our journeys: it’s what I call kid-discrimination. The fact is that not all destinations, restaurants or eateries welcome kids, even those who are quiet and well-mannered. We entered to two restaurants—not bars, mind you, but actual eateries, and at the first, the hostess said: “We don’t serve children.” As we saw teens probably 13 and above, we were perplexed, but left. We walked a few doors down and although the male host scowled when he saw our girls, he sat us anyway, but get this, not on the main floor, next to the water, where four tables sat open (picture the windows open, the stream going by—enchanting), but he put us upstairs, in the far corner where the windows were closed and no air conditioning. Again, we were perplexed but went with it, right up until others were being served and we weren’t-water or menus. Finally, after about ten minutes, we just got up and left.

On the way out, Roger had a word with the host, and he straight up told Roger that restaurants are for adults and we should have known better. Well, then!

Culture is culture, and we weren’t delusional enough to think that we could change opinions and attitudes, so we adjusted our approach. Very politely, we approached the next restaurant, also by the Vltava River and still in town, asking the host if they minded children. He smiled and said “Of course! Come in!” We proceeded to have the most glorious, authentic dinner of pork, potatoes, noodles, soups and my favorite, hot chocolate that was more like thick, hazelnut mousse.

This is how happy I am when the chocolate hazelnut mousse is as thick as pudding. Yum!

Cesky was, and still is, hands down, our favorite town outside a castle, and we have another full day booked for our upcoming trip this summer.

Couldn’t help myself–I’d taken another selfie with Saffron just to show how big he was and how much he slobbered. LOVE that dawg

Feature photo: taken from one of the decks at the Karlstejn Castle

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May 20, 2019  by

Prague Zoo is a Must do

Bring the spray bottle and wear comfortable shoes

When it comes to zoobies (those whom I lovingly refer to zoo-snobs), most refer to San Diego if you are from the States, the Bejing Zoo if the far east, or Moscow. Very rarely does someone throw out “the Prague Zoo”, even though it’s in the top five zoo’s in the world if you are into counting the number of species (650) and acreage (100ish). My pictures from what we saw are few–I was so enthralled I lived in the moment instead of capturing it to look at later. Oh well.

Another lazy afternoon
East and West, endangered and not

On the last trip, we didn’t plan a full day, and were only able to see the ‘east’ side of the park. This time around, we are going to make sure it’s the ‘west’ side, and not just because our girls have continued to bring it up. They are expecting to see wonders akin to the big cat exhibit, the giant tortoises, the aviary and the giant salamander of the east.

When I’m talking giant, these creatures are massive, especially the Salamanders. I mean, what other zoo has a section devoted to the Komodo dragon like creatures? None that I can think of, but then, I’ve only been to a dozen, not sixty, so feel free to correct me on that one.

We arrived late afternoon and three hours was hardly enough to even see a majority of one side. We got in the massive aviary, two rides on the gondola (which we almost failed to take because we barely had enough coinage, which was required) and it was so hot we were practically passing out (late July is hot hot hot).

So big and tough it needs a gondola

Not kidding. My feet were so grateful I could have cried when we stumbled upon it. The gondola splits the huge zoo in half, which saves the long trek up the rocky terrain to reach half the exhibits. This place is going to make you sweat, so bring a water bottle that sprays, and be glad they were smart enough to place misting stations all around the park.

These chair lifts (what they call the gondola) are definitely not US approved, but do the job (keeping your feet from swelling)

Another unique attribute of the zoo is it has the highest count we’ve ever found of endangered species, at 175. That’s awesome but sad at the same time. It’s always hard for us to see beautiful creatures confined, but at the same time, pragmatism rules: we’d rather of one or two of one species than none at all.

Family playground

Let’s face it: sometimes kids aren’t all that fascinated with big cats, salamanders or flamingos. For this, the Czech’s have a solution and it’s called a wonderful Robinson Cruso island like play area. Wooden boardwalks, neandrethal-size alligators to crawl in, on and around. A swimming area also exists, but we were unprepared for this and didn’t want the kids to get soaked in their only set of clothes.

Aside the family area are other activities like a train which was great. (Who doesn’t like trains, really?)

Family playground area is lovely and diverse–and has a train!
What to bring

Your stroller for kids, but understand they aren’t allowed on the gondola, because it’s more like a ski chair lift, and if you are used to the ones in States, which are uber safe, this is more like–hey, here’s a seat buckle, get on and get in. I was seriously panicked with our girls, who were 6 and 9 at the time, but I just held on tight and prayed. Halfway up I chilled out and enjoyed the landscape below.

Change for tokens, because the gondola requires change or tokens (at least the last time we visited that was the case). This is also a Crone area–not Euros, so be ready to do the conversion. Ticket prices for 2019 is here.

Never fear (well, fear a little)…some shade does exist around the park–these huge tress are down by the aviary

The spray bottle. We picked these up in the US and brought them over–you can drink from the top and spray out a separate nozzle. That said, spray stations are located throughout the park, so you won’t completely die of heat stroke. Only partially…because our water ran out and the lines for free water were super long.

Swimming suits, just in case you want to cool off.

Feature picture: Prague Zoo large cat exhibit

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May 4, 2019  by

Luxury for less: finding the best accomodations

Call me crazy, but I love a good deal, and for those who know me, a good deal doesn’t equate to going on the cheap. When I say I got a good deal, that’s code for “I got the luxury I want without paying triple.” In other words, I want the Four Seasons experience without the overhead, both financial and mental. (Can you hear the glee in my voice as I type this?)

This article is the first of what will be an on-going, detailed account of our accommodations. I do realize that by exposing our secrets, they will be secrets no more, but that’s my gift to you, the reader, traveler and explorer. If more people know travel can be both luxurious and economical, they’d do it more!

Our criteria: location, cost and convenience

When we travel for two weeks, we find a “home base” from which we can drive to lots of destinations. This allows us to get a major cost break for staying more than five days. We have found one pays a lot more when the stays are minimum, such as 2-3 days. Anything over five days can usually be negotiated down quite dramatically. 7-10 days is optimum.

For instance, during a four-week vacation, we picked Belgium, and specifically, Tervuren, for eight days. From this location, we visited many destinations in Brussels, the Netherlands and France. Using VRBO, we found a 5-bedroom, four bath, two story home with an in-ground pool. It was road off Park Tervuren, also known as the Empress’s Park. That meant it was also a ten-minute walk from the quaint downtown. It had garage parking for two spaces, and all the facilities one expects in a lovely home.

Luxury on Lake Cuomo: 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, private elevator and rooftop terrace. Every door opening to a private terrace

The price? $1,200 US. That’s right. All that for $150/night. A comparable location in Brussels central (twenty minutes away) first off, wasn’t even available. Homes don’t have pools, and aren’t for rent unless you are paying diplomat fees, which are about $10K/month, or $2,500 a week. Hotel rooms are about $400/night, and a family needs two. (Our family does anyway. Don’t know about you, but we believe in intimacy while on vaca).

To provide another example, in Vienna, we found a 2-story, 3-bedroom downtown apartment near the Palace. It was $1,400 for a week. In Prague, it was a 2-story, 3-bedroom modern apartment about three blocks from old town for $800. Both places were penthouses, with decks, by the way. Where did we find such deals? VRBO. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting more in-depth reviews with more pics on each in that country section.

Two-story penthouse in Prague, modern, private decks and triple security (inner/outer doors)
VRBO and Airbnb

Generally speaking, hate mail doesn’t resonate with my soul, but on this topic, I’m going there, no matter what comes. In our experience (underline, bold and with emphasis), VRBO is the only way to go for travel, for the following reasons, each one vital to the safety and security of our family.

  1. Vetting. VRBO seems to have a process for background checks/screening, credit/reputation, management of the property and overall, quality listings. Compare this to Airbnb, where anyone looking to sublet out a room, couch or whatever can just throw it up and list it. It’s sort of like buyer-be-ware.
  2. Quality. Along the lines of the above, you can rent chalets, mansions, apartments, flats and just about everything in between. The next time I want to entertain 40 of my best friends, I’ll snap up that lakeside mansion on Lake Cuomo for $10K for 2 weeks, but until then, I’m super happy I got the two-story, 3-bedroom penthouse with it’s private elevator on the waterfront of Bellagio (which sits on a peninsula Lake Cuomo) for $1,100 for eight days. The accommodations, whatever they may be, must be true to representation, or risk getting a bad review, which results in the owner (and associated location) being banned from VRBO. This accountability really is fantastic for us travelers.
  3. Management and payment. On VRBO, most of the locations have an on-line calendar for direct booking. Depending on the location, direct communication is required with the owner and/or manager of the site. A small deposit is usually required, but we have learned over the years that negotiation is always possible—e.g. small deposit, part cash when we arrive if all is in order, and then the remainder of the cash when we check out. This makes it a 1/3, 1/3, 1/3, reducing the risk of the site being awful and us getting stiffed.

    On that note, we have read horror stories about travelers paying half and showing up to find that the place doesn’t exist, the reviews were fake and someone took their money and ran. These were 100% Airbnb, never VRBO. Still, one can never take chances. If the owner/manager doesn’t get back promptly, the dates show up then disappear on the calendar, or other anomalies, they are red flags. Nothing is worth the risk of standing on foreign land without a place to stay
View off the deck of the 5th story penthouse on Lake Zurich. Most buildings are modern with natural treatment for roofs. Down the cobblestone lane (beside this building) is the waterfront. The apartment, waterfront and surrounding yoga studio and eateries are all featured in the Danielle Grant trilogy.
More on Parking

It’s not always possible to get a place with its own parking spot, so in those cases, we use a local garage. In Vienna and Prague both, the $10 daily fee (for a week rate) was nominal. Day rates can be higher, but we never paid more than $20/day. If your location doesn’t offer parking, ask your contact about local parking availability so you come prepared.

Final notes on rentals

When locating a home base for our travels, we look for laundry facilities and air conditioning. For Americans, many are shocked to learn that the majority of non-hotel accommodations (and even quite a few hotels) around Europe lack air conditioning. One must look, double and triple check these things or else you will be in for a nasty surprise. It’s usually in the ‘details’ section of the listing, along with things not allowed—think dogs, and quite a few places don’t allow children. On that note, we’ve found that if we identify the ages of our children, and that they are girls, we’ve had pretty good luck. Sorry to say that discrimination against young boys does exist, and there’s not a darn thing you can do about it but look elsewhere.

Feature image: taken from the balcony of the penthouse villa in Lake Cuomo

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April 26, 2019  by

Tervuren, Belgium

Africa, an Empress and a Park

Brussels is known as a political hot center, home to 19 police forces, each using a different language, a great botanical garden and shopping downtown, but what’s not publicized across the Atlantic is the municipality of Tervuren, located in the Flemish Brabant province of Belgium. It’s a shame too, because history, aristocracy and nature–along with inexpensive accommodations–make this town a must-see in our travel itinerary.

Tervuren: What and where

But don’t let that little factoid scare you off. It’s perfect for travelers who want the proximity of the nearby cities in the summer, (a category in which we belong). The town butts against the Tervuren Park, also known as the Empress’s Park, a multi-kilometer destination so big it’s easy to get lost. Yet, it’s so safe, we feel like it’s Idaho. People walking the streets at night, taking strolls on the neighborhood and of course, crossing in to the Park that stretches for miles.

Another park? Really?

If it was “just a park,” I wouldn’t bother writing about it. But this is something to behold. Sun-lit gravel paths stretching for miles are separated by long, rectangular waterways, home to multiple varieties of waterfowl. On the other side of the water, the trails are paved, drawing bikers who race along the paths at a training clip. Shooting off these manicured lanes are dirt trails through the woods. It’s downright “shire-like,’ because only in the Hobbit movies have I seen trees to high and dense in a forest. It’s actually rather spooky, and one of my girls (6 at the time) asked if an Orc was going to come out. “No, Robin Hood lives here,” was my reply, thinking the analogy a little happier than a blood-thirty human-killing fictional character. The downtown of Tervuren lines one side of the park, allowing for waterside dining, strolls down the paths and a little (not much) local shopping.

The Empress’s Palace in Tervuren

As we were making our way in and around the park over a period of our ten day stay, we frequently walked by the Empress’s Palace. The story itself (Emperor builds massive structure for favorite daughter) and size of the park just makes any parent say: wow. Daddy really loved that girl.

Africa in Belgium

Indeed. The massive Royal Museum for Central Africa, simply known as the Africa Museum, is located right in the park. In the 1800’s, the museum was opened by a King Leopold II, who had conducted on a years long effort for colonization. What originally focused on the Congo gradually expanded over the decades (yes, this is a dramatic simplification. Read more here), the museum and research functions of the museum attracted scientists and researchers, contributing to the initial prosperity of the region. 

Note: It was closed for a 5 year renovation and reopened in 2018, so you are good to go. Where to stay? I address that in a separate blog on our accommodations. Think two-story, five bedroom house, pool, ten days, $1,000. Yep. Love Tervuren.

in Destinations / Walking tours 814 comments
April 16, 2019  by

Quick: close your eyes

Lessons from the road

“Quick! Don’t look!” Those were the words I mistakenly said to my girls, when driving alongside a river in Austria. What I meant to say was “quick, turn your heads,” but the better comment was to have kept quiet.

You see, while most Europeans are immune to nudity, not even registering a piece of uncovered flesh, us Americans are much more sensitive to those things, and thus, the necessity for writing this blog. It was this singular river-journey that I learned how to handle the unexpected with grace and a bit of education, perhaps saving another parent from making the mistake.

  • View as we drove outside town
  • A distant chateau
The hottest day

That’s where it started. On a day trip down the 56 south of Vienna, return it was over 100 degrees, the July heat practically killing the car’s air conditioning. On a lark, we went to Gloggnitz in lower Austria and started following a few motorcyclists and locals who seemed to know where they were going (we are adventurous that way). The straight road curved as the scenery changed from concrete to lush trees, the uphill climb cooling the air. We rolled down the tinted windows to get a better look and lo! There it was. A whole line if bar butts, four in a row, and male.

I uttered the now famous line, which made both girls (then 6 and 10) lean out the window. “Mom, is that a butt?” My six-year old asked. “What happened to their bathing suits?” My older daughter went silent, her shock registering in the fixed stare one has when going by a car accident.

Luckily, the rational me kicked in (as opposed to the mom-me).

“It’s Europe,” I replied. “They do this here.”

“But Mom,” my oldest started. “There are more people on the river.” I looked. “Yep, and some are even wearing bathing suits.”

It was then that Rog and I had the quiet moment parent’s share when the truth table has been pulled out. We were either going to live the European experience or eliminate half the things we could possibly see.

“We’ll do our best,” Rog said in an undertone.

“No naked men,” was my threshold. And with that, we continued up the river until we saw a place where the men were clothed, but not all of the women.

The invisible man

Kids are interesting. If you don’t make a big deal out of something, they forget it even exists. So it was that we parked the car, quickly changed roadside when it was clear, then made our way down to path. The Alpine water was freezing, the water crystal clear, and the other visitors rare. Yet a few women were topless, but they were mom’s who had clearly breastfed their young children and struck us as pragmatic instead of exhibitionistic. It was very hot: why wear more clothes than one had to?

The kids looked once, more out of interest, then moved on. It simply was a part of life, a part of nature, exactly how it should be.

  • Testing the depth
  • Cold and slow moving- perfect
  • My favorite go-to Athleta hat
The return trip

It was a good thing perspectives had changed, because two hours later we were driving back in to town.

“Mom,” my ten-year-old says from the back. “I just saw a man’s penis. Two, actually.” I can’t help myself. I look out the window. Sure enough, we were passing the spot on the river from whence we’d come, and two of the four men was now on their backs, sunning themselves.” The image was gone in the blink of an eye, my husband’s hand on my leg gripping with humor and angst combined.

“Yep,” I said. “Everyone needs to get a tan.”

“I guess,” my daughter said, already looking down at her book. “What’s for dinner?”

We did our best to shield the girl from egregious displays of nudity, but honestly, it wasn’t an issue. The rest of the trip, three weeks’ worth, were free of comments or looks about what saw, or rather, didn’t see. They came, played and were focused on having fun and the beauty around them, exactly as it should be.

in Destinations 715 comments