To the top of the Alps!

Thursday, September 5, 2013

What a day this has been!

We left the lovely Palace Hotel on Lake Como—except, if you remember, we couldn’t see the lake from anywhere in the hotel or on the grounds.  Even so, we still enjoyed very nice accommodations.  Immediately, we made a wrong turn—did not follow Samantha’s directions—and suddenly we were in the midst of a horde of people walking and biking in every direction.  It was an interesting maze, and we had trouble finding our way out. One thing I would recommend—if anyone is ever coming to Europe and plans to drive, that they take a course in Traffic Signs 101.  We don’t know whether or not we were supposed to be there, but we eventually worked our way out of alleyways and squares to a main road and tuned in to Samantha again. 

When we first began thinking about this trip, I told Robin I would like to drop down into Italy to see Lake Como.  My friend Betsy had shared pictures of her visit here a few years ago, and I liked what I saw.  When Robin started booking the trip, I told him I wanted to go to Bellagio, Italy, on Lake Como.  Instead, he booked us in Como that I described yesterday, and I was disappointed.  This morning I convinced him that we should drive to Bellagio so I could at least see it.  He really wanted to get on the road to where we are tonight, but since it was only 30 kilometers, off we went.  Think Wild Maus—my favorite ride at Rainbow Gardens when I was growing up! The Wild Maus twisted around curves, would speed up and cut a sharp corner, then drop straight down with my friends and me screaming all the way.  That’s what the ride was like—only other cars and even buses were coming at us on a narrow road.  What a tiring, beautiful ride along this lovely lake—through all the little villages and up and down the hills.  In hindsight, I am glad we stayed in Como—there was more to do, easy walking, lots to see.

After that adventure, we headed toward Lugano and then to our destination for tonight—Grindelwald, Switzerland.  Two days ago I described our going through the Alps, under the Alps, over the Alps, etc.  That was absolutely nothing compared to what we experienced today—the Alps of two days ago were an appetizer!!  This was one of the most amazing days of my life.  I never saw anything to compare with what we saw today—only the pictures may speak for themselves—we haven’t had time to download them to even see them. 

 

 

 

 

 I have never felt holier or healthier.  I know this may sound dramatic, but I cried for the joy of it all.  8500 feet up in the pristine air, and majestic mountains in front of me, some with snow, some in the clouds.  I turned around and saw more behind me.  The valley below was the greenest green, lush flatlands and rolling hills with streams meandering. I feel like the luckiest person alive to be here—I am very grateful for this opportunity.  Every turn just got better—and, believe me, there were thousands of turns and 38 tunnels!  When we arrived in Grindelwald and got settled into our room, we stepped out on the balcony and there were multiple, snow-covered rock masses that were ours to enjoy.  I will never forget this.  Forget Italy—I want to come back to Switzerland!

We had dinner tonight in a rustic restaurant attached to the hotel.  Our server was a young German woman who knew English quite well.  Robin had schnitzel and I had wonderful chicken in a champagne mushroom sauce.  While we were eating, I told Robin that it has been a week since I’d had a conversation in English with anyone except him.  A few minutes later, the people a couple tables away—we were the only customers inside—began a conversation and we learned that they were from San Francisco and Wisconsin and were taking a train journey through Switzerland.  Chatting with them was great!

So, here we are, having just had a day of contrasts from busy Lake Como to this vast wilderness of rocks and trees and water high up in the air—we heard it was the highest resort in Switzerland you can reach by car!  Leaving for France tomorrow is not going to be easy.

Before I sign off, we want to wish our daughter Pattie and her husband Mark a happy anniversary today (September 5) and our daughter Kerry and her husband David a happy anniversary tomorrow (September 6). 

 

Lake Como

September 4, 2013

We spent a lot of time today in the sunshine and some of it on the water.  We took a boat ride on Lake Como—didn’t know until we were on it that the boat went from little village to little village dropping off and picking up passengers. 
 

 

 

 I kept feeling as if we were in the movie “Mama Mia”—the landscape looked so similar, and we were on a boat full of people speaking Italian and going home by boat. I want to know more about the history of this lake and all the little villages. We didn’t see them all, but what we did see had similar appearances. I did find out that it is one of the deepest lakes in Europe and is fed by glaciers. Also, Robin told me that George Clooney had a home here somewhere, but I don’t know about that. 

 

 

 

After the boat ride, we wandered around the square in the town of Como, where we are—stopped for lunch, shared a little pizza that tasted like a frozen DiGiorgno, window shopped a little, and studied a beautiful church in the middle of it all—Robin thinks it looks like the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart in Monroe Park in Richmond.

I love being in Italy, experiencing the cultural differences and the sunshine—there really is something about the sun here that is different.  I would like to have a trip some time to explore just Italy. 

Lots of people here smoke—in restaurants—and ride motor scooters.  Everyone eats gelato—haven’t done that yet.  The hotel has shampoo, no wash cloths.  The Swiss had wash cloths. 

As we wandered around the square last night, we saw a huge tent.  Robin thought it was a craft show or flea market of some sort.  We approached and discovered a book fair—usually we would love to be a part of that—except that every book was in Italian!

Tomorrow we’re heading back up into Switzerland on our way to France.  Robin checked in with Samantha on the GPS and learned that we would be averaging 38 mph on the winding roads back up into the Alps.  That doesn’t sound easy, but I’m sure it will be an adventure. We’re spending one night there before heading over to Chamonix, France, near Mount Blanc. 

(We'll be publishing more pictures of Lake Como later--we're out of time.)

Cow bells and tunnels!

September 3, 2013

Wow! What a day! Last year in the Rockies, there were bears; this year there are cows in the Swiss Alps!  We learned yesterday that at 12:30 today the cow herders in Appenzell, where we stayed in Switzerland, were bringing their cows out of the mountains and through the streets—a twice-yearly event (spring and end-of-summer). After we checked out, we decided to hang around for that. It ended up that we saw several such events---these beautiful creamy brown cows with huge bells hanging around their necks clomping through the village with herders and their children in costume leading and herding them as they went.

It was really quite a fun racket. It ended up that we actually saw four herds of 15-20 cows each within the village.

 

 

 

 

 As we headed out of town on our way to Italy, no matter which road we took, we encountered cows being herded to their farms, and we had to follow them through the back roads. Needless to say, this delayed our trip quite a bit; however, we wouldn’t have wanted to miss it.

While waiting for the cows at the fondue café (from yesterday), we noticed hordes of children and young people with backpacks speeding on their bikes in different directions. It was nearing noon, and we still wonder what time school begins over here. After 12 noon, they vanished. Bikes in Switzerland were a major means of transportation—not just a sports workout, but a way to get around.



After we twisted our way out of Appenzell, we got on the autobahn and thought it would be a three-hour trip to Italy. Not quite. Robin drove, and we encountered the big Alps, not just the foothills around Appenzell or the ones in the distance and along the roadway yesterday as we drove to Liechtenstein. I keep trying to think of the right preposition to describe how we crossed the Alps and our relationship to them, and almost any preposition I could think of was dead on. We went under the Alps, through the Alps, in the Alps, between the Alps, among the Alps, over the Alps, by the Alps, to the Alps, and so on. Needless to say, we were very involved with the Alps and what an experience it was! Some of the tunnels through the rocks were at least three miles long, and there were so many tunnels that we lost count. What an awesome experience! Yesterday I said they reminded me of the Rockies, although the vegetation on and around them is different. The green is a lighter, more vivid green, and the mountains surrounded us. I have never experienced such a ride. Robin was relieved when it was over—four high-speed lanes of traffic going over bridges that seemed to be thousands of feet up in the air and tunnel after tunnel after tunnel after tunnel after tunnel!  We were exhausted when we arrived in Lake Como, Italy, but also exhilarated for having experienced it. (To stay young, “they” say to get out of your comfort zone and try new things. We have certainly done that in the past several days! We should look like teenagers!)

Our lakefront hotel is old, elegant, and very well kept. It is across the street from Lake Como (Lago di Como); however, there are several obstacles blocking our view. First of all, our high-ceilinged room has three huge windows draped in gold peau de soie; one looks out on a wall; the other two face a very utilitarian courtyard/parking lot. If we stand on the vast veranda of the hotel, we should be able to see the lake; however, there are tall hedges blocking the view. Finally, if we were standing on the sidewalk in front of the hedges, we still couldn’t see the lake because it is obscured by construction barricades. Oh, well, we know it is there! The lake is vast (third largest in Italy), and we will venture out tomorrow and see it all. This is quite the place really. Reminds me somewhat of Nice, France, although the Mediterranean is more of a draw there. Trendy, expensive villas “grow” up the mountainsides. I didn’t do my research—I expected it to be more rustic than bustling, but we will have a great experience, I’m sure. It is quite the cultural shock after coming from a little Alpine village and the old city of Stuttgart!

We rested a bit after the long haul over the mountains and then hit the street, looking for a sidewalk café and quickly found one—enjoyed some pasta and the busy town square of Como. One bit of good news that I forgot to mention yesterday—Robin found his phone wedged under the seat of the car. We’ve been thinking about our grandchildren starting school today and wishing them all a happy school year.

Liechenstein and Fondue

September 2, 2013
We awoke this morning to a cool, sunny day here in Heidi country. As we move from place to place in Europe, we have discovered a pattern in hotel breakfasts—muselix, fruit, yogurt, a meat (salami and ham) and cheese tray, and scrambled or soft-boiled eggs. Oh, and breads! They love their breads, especially croissants, and their jams and Nutella. After breakfast, we decided to head for the hills. That’s pretty easy around here since there are so many. Our GPS friend Samantha from home led us to Lichtenstein. I drove. In all fairness to “her,” Appenzell is tucked up in the mountains so snugly that it’s difficult to get anywhere else from here. She knew the way. Many times we missed the turns because I thought the little lanes were leading into cow pastures on the side of a mountain. I also felt as if I was a contestant in the “Amazing Race.” Once again we were on two-way roads not really big enough for two vehicles. Roads that had no shoulders! The natives drove at their normal fast speeds. The hairpin curves curved so acutely that Samantha thought they were distinct turns and would instruct us to turn right or left on the same road on which we were driving. The Rhine River separates the countries of Switzerland and Lichtenstein—right in the middle of the river.

At that point, it is just a calm stretch of river, a bit barren in places. Robin tells me that we will see it in other places and it will be deeper and wider.

(That's our ride - looking right at home in the Rockies!)

(a picture of the whole country of Liechenstein, I think)
It was a lovely jaunt today—only about 35 miles each way with the Alps lining the roadways—very reminiscent of the Rockies in Montana and Canada. What’s interesting to us is that we can travel from country to country over here, and we have not encountered customs or been asked for a passport since we arrived at the airport in Stuttgart.

When we returned to Appenzell, we walked about the village and ended up having an early dinner at a sidewalk restaurant. I’d forgotten that the Swiss introduced fondue to the world. It was a word we recognized on the menu, so we indulged in their standard cheese fondue. What fun we had—it brought back memories of the 70s when everyone seemed to have a fondue pot. The salads in Europe are interesting arrays of vegetables. We ordered a mixed salad and received a lovely arrangement of lettuce surround by small piles of diced beets, cabbage, cucumbers (waffled), corn, sprouts, and German potato salad.

Tonight, after a walk, we sat on a bench in front of the hotel and observed the activity going on around and watching cars in the fading light (VWs, M-Bs, Citroens, Toyotas, Peugeots, and even a Chevy). We also discussed how we seldom see people checking or creating texts on their cell phones here. We’ve noticed a few people talking on their cells, but no one so engrossed that they’re really not there. The people in Europe seem to celebrate being together. And one more thing about Switzerland, it’s the only European country that doesn’t use the euro for its money; it still uses francs. I love Switzerland—the fresh air, serenity of its landscapes, the green hills climbing all around us dotted with a house here and there, the charming villages. I loved Heidi as a child, and I am pleased to be in her land.

Three countries in thirty minutes

September 1, 2013

A new day—a new drive through villages and roundabouts, as we left Stuttgart.  I was ready to leave Stuttgart—an interesting city but not one necessarily for a vacation.  “Gretchen” (we have named the German GPS lady provided by Ford) went with us, leading us to closed roads and insisting that we make u-turns and proceed down the blockaded roads. I was talking back to her and decided she was not welcome on our vacation. She just totally avoided highways to get anywhere.  Finally, we shut her down.  We traveled all over France on our own in a car without a GPS and did just fine.  Of course, we knew the language much better than we know German.  We plugged in Samantha (the US GPS lady, whose name we discovered when we bought our own set of Europe maps from Garmin), however, and she took us immediately to the autobahn—my first experience driving on this race course.  As long as one stays in the right lane, it’s okay.  I had to pass a couple times and speeding cars came rushing out of nowhere behind me.  I felt as if we were in the Grand Prix.

The best view of the day happened when I first spotted Lake Constance on the border between Germany and Switzerland.  Even though the day was overcast and it began raining shortly after we stopped, it was very spirit-lifting to see that rural landscape along the water with rustic buildings dotting the coastline.  I have never seen more vineyards anywhere, not even southern France. 

Shortly after that, Samantha led us through a bit of Austria and our first sighting of the Alps. Moving into Austria and then Switzerland gave us a whole different perspective.  She knew exactly where Appenzell is—this traditional, but trendy, little village high on top of a mountain where we are now. We drove up a twisted, almost one-lane road to reach this destination—beautiful, green pastureland and mountain peaks surrounding what we thought was a simple way of life, only to discover at the summit a very trendy commercial village—quaint and lovely, but very ready to do business!

This hotel has 17 rooms, each very modern in a rustic way; however, they are not really set up for computer users.  After dinner in the hotel restaurant, we strolled around the village, window shopping, and will explore more tomorrow.  Oh, by the way, at dinner I asked if they had iced tea.  The server’s face lighted up when I asked and she brought me an interesting concoction—tea with fruit juices and maybe a spoonful of ice.

Oh, I forgot to mention our first encounter with a German grocery store yesterday.  We were looking for bottled water and found two aisles of bottled water. We carefully studied the German labels and decided on one.  We also browsed through the store—nothing like our grocery stores at home.  There were no displays—the different fruits were in the boxes in which they were shipped and piled in the middle of the aisles.  Variety was limited.  No bags.  People were carrying things in their arms—milk, eggs, two bananas, etc.  I might also  add that when we opened the bottled water, craving something thirst-quenching, we realized we had carefully chosen some kind of sparkling water with seltzer or something in it!

Tonight we are a bit despondent because Robin’s phone is missing—he just bought a new one the day before we left Richmond and was so pleased to have it.  He realized that the last time he had it was when we got gas on the way to Switzerland today.  We looked in the car, but it was dark.  We’re hoping we’ll find it in the daylight.  We like to be reachable as well as able to communicate if we need to.

He also wanted me to mention that if anyone intends to visit Switzerland, one needs to know that the AC adaptors in Switzerland are not the same as the AC adaptors for the rest of Europe. The Swiss use a three-pin configuration and their pins (and their receptacle holes) are thinner so one adapter we used in France and Germany won’t work, though the other, with smaller pins works ok.

I’ll end on that note and see what tomorrow brings.

Lake Konstanz on the way from Stuttgart to Appenzell

Eventually, I promise, there'll be pictures!

Villages and roundabouts

August 31, 2013

 

After a lazy morning, we decided to drive west toward France.  The German GPS lady was right there with us—“please take the second right in the roundabout”—until she led us to a closed road and insisted that we continue along it. Then Robin turned on our GPS lady fromVA—Samantha—and they both told us what to do and gave different directions, only the German lady was much more polite.  What a fiasco of driving through village after village and encountering roundabouts every few miles and having these two strange women competing.  I don’t like having one along for the ride, let alone two.  We made it to Baden Baden and got on a highway and headed back to Stuttgart.

A German village street

A Stuttgart Street

A downtown Stuttgart Street - streetcars are everywhere!

One of the highlights of our jaunt today was stopping at a McDonald’s!  I normally do not frequent McDonald’s, but I was hoping for iced tea. They had ice, no tea. That’s okay—I had iced Coke Light and then I just had some ice.  What a treat!  I noticed that the ice dispenser was “programmed” to only drop out about 1/3 cup of ice into the cup.  I wonder why Europeans don’t indulge in something so necessary in our world.

In spite of the GPS chaos, today was a day of learning about the area and its cuisine, as well as its industry.  Stuttgart and Bad Cannstatt are part of the larger Swabia area. The foods that are essential to this area are egg noodle products in many variations.  Before coming to Germany, I was familiar with spatzle, and I recently learned about Maultaschen.  Because of the stony soils in this area, conditions were not good for cattle; therefore, meat was a luxury and mainly eaten by lords and other wealthy people.  The ordinary folks had to be content to exist on simple dishes made of flour and later potatoes.  Maultaschen is a very thin pasta bag about two inches square, similar to a ravioli, only not as thick; it is filled with finely chopped spinach, onion, and a little meat. The story here has it that these little pockets were first prepared by monks who were trying to avoid the meat prohibition during Lent and thought that God couldn’t see the meat when it was inside the pasta.  I read in one of the travel guides before I left home not to leave Stuttgart without trying some Maultaschens, which are usually served in a broth.  I tried some tonight, and they were delicious—same idea as a Cornish pasty, only smaller, lighter, and different vegetables.

I also learned that Stuttgart is the headquarters for Mercedes-Benz and Porsche, and it surprises me that we are driving a Ford!  According to Robin, Hitler came up with an idea for a car for all people, a Volks Wagen, and Herr Porsche, who had been a race-car designer for  M-B, was appointed to develop the VW.  He then went on to open his own company, and the rest is history.  Lots of these cars are soaring around the area!

Yesterday I complained about lack of shampoo until Robin pointed out that the large container hanging on the tile in the shower said it was for hair, face, and body.  We’ll see how that works—I just washed my hair with it!

Tomorrow we’re heading through Bavaria on our way to Switzerland.  I wonder what the day will bring.

We're getting behind on pictures - Internet access here is s-l-o-w and we're still tired from the flight. We have pictures, and will post them as soon as we get some access speed and a little more time.

Wilkommen im Deutschland

Joyce and I looked for a picture of the Alps for the background for the blog, but all of them were copyrighted, except one, a photo I took from the plane flying from Nice to Dusseldorf in 2008, as we were ending trektofrance. It doesn't show up anyway, so... never mind,

We left Richmond at a little after 2 p.m. on August 29 and flew to Atlanta (this route seemed perfectly reasonable in June when we planned it) where we nearly missed our 5:30 plane to Stuttgart because we were having lunch (breakfast for Robin) and had no idea that they were already boarding. One thing about getting on the plane just as they are closing the doors, there's no crowd!
So now we are recovering from "jet lag" in Stuttgart,
or more accurately, in Bad Cannstatt, a community known for its mineral springs.

Peter, our friend who was born near here, tells of taking his scooter (they didn't own a bicycle) to the spring here to get sparkling water that his family drank instead of cola or such. We saw the "spa" today - it's across the street from the hotel, but we didn't go in.

After a hearty meal (Schniztle, Spaetzle, Goulasch, Bier, salad and bread)

we wandered around the area near the restaurant

 and found a couple of fountains and tried the water. "Sehe gut!"


Joyce's version:

 Travel, the way we do it, is not easy. I keep thinking back to the movie, A League of Their Own, when Geena Davis tells Tom Hanks she is quitting the team because it is too hard. He tells her that hard is what makes it great. I'm banking on that. Our travels keep us on our toes and require a whole different set of skills than those we practice daily.

 Ah, the "joys" of airplane travel abroad--security, customs, lines, rushing, not to mention little ones in the seat immediately behind us continually whining and screeching on this nine-hour trip!  They were sweet ones and what was their mother to do besides comfort them?! We flew from Richmond to Atlanta, only to get on a plane there and fly back over Richmond, losing about five hours in the process. I wonder why we didn't fly to DC or NYC and head out from a northern city for Germany. 

We arrived in Stuttgart at 1:30 a.m. our time in the U.S. and 7:30 a.m. German time, picked up a Ford at Hertz, and headed on our round-about way to find our hotel, an interesting adventure when you don't know the language. Our GPS lady, who talked to us in polite English with a German accent, had us traveling up and down over major highways and small side streets in what seemed like a very indirect way of getting us to our destination. When we made a wrong turn, thankfully she did not say "recalculating," but just started from scratch. I drove and had a hard time figuring out what to do when she would say, "Proceed 60 meters and prepare to turn left soon." I wished I'd listened better to the metric system in Mrs. Caltrider's 8th grade math class.  Robin tells me it is now Saturday morning—I’m still operating as if it is Thursday because we have only had catnaps since we left Richmond.

The first thing that struck me about Stuttgart was how much it reminded me of Pittsburgh—lots of hills with houses and other buildings covering them.

This section of Stuttgart, Bad Cannstatt, has many quaint villages with shops, restaurants, and biergartens. The narrow streets, lined with tall, painted buildings, twist around with little alleyways going in different directions, and generally have massive churches at their center.

Of course, because we do not know the language, we don’t know what kind of churches they are.

Late this afternoon, we happened upon an outdoor restaurant with a vast menu. We hadn’t eaten since a light breakfast on the plane at midnight (Richmond time) last night. I knew I could get by in Germany because the few food words that I know are “schnitzel”and spaetzle, and I like both. I did not know about the hearty servings they would send our way. I ordered rahmschnitzel (pork with a wonderful sauce full of huge mushrooms), which, along with the spaetzle, filled a platter—enough for several diners.

The spaetzle reminded me of my Aunt Minnie’s homemade noodles that we enjoyed on special occasions growing up and also our friend, Nancy Fundinger’s homemade spaetzle.  I had to leave over half on the plate; Robin was working on his own goulash.

 The biggest adjustment for me, as it was the last time we came to Europe, is that there is no iced tea!  Those who know me know about my tea.  I keep a glass or cup going all day long.  In fact, once again, there is no ice.  They do not serve ice; the hotels do not provide ice buckets or an ice machine. I ordered a “Coke Lite” and it came in a glass without ice, although it was moderately cold, but not very.

Also, as I said in a past blog, most hotels in Europe have no wash cloths but, this time, I brought my own.  It’s funny what you get used to.  I did not, however, bring shampoo, and none is provided.  Just little differences in the style of living and major differences in communication.