Shop On

I know this will sound disrespectful and flippant, but really it isn't meant to be so. Touring shoe stores through Europe is way more fun than touring war memorials. Unexpectedly, we have visited many of the memorial and grave sites from WWI and WWII. I was deeply moved by the memorial at Vimy Ridge, the monument must be one of the most beautiful of the modern age. And kudos to the sculpture marking the Canadian site near Passiondale. Both are brilliant.

But as I have travelled and learned more about WWl and WWll and walked the poignant steps of our soldiers, I have become acutely aware of how historically recent these wars are. I feel a harbinger from the future... are we due for another one?

 

That's why touring shoe stores is such an attractive alternative. Styles change, who cares. Shoes are thrown away before they are old, who cares. Sometimes shoes are expensive, but, hey, they are not nearly as expensive as war.

 

 

 

 

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Lost in France

GPS is a marvel of technology. I know how fantastic this little device is because today ours stopped working... in the middle of God knows where.

"Enough of Lonely Planet," declared Roger with a flourish of his hand. "No, we are not going Arras." (Lonely Planet lists numerous hotels, restaurants in Arras.) He looks at the map and points to the small village of Bethune. "We are heading here." Okay, dear.

Hours later, we arrive in Bethune. We have gone up hills, made impossible corners, and changed highways to get here. Navigating this small town turns out to be a nightmare. A hotel? What's that? And then, the unthinkable happens. Our GPS goes blank....huh? Where are we? It's rush hour and there are no hotels or parking spots anywhere and we are on our own!

We travel up, down and all around the area and then... In the middle of friggin' nowhere, a Best Western appears. An expensive Best Western appears. Two rooms left... in the middle of nowhere!!! Damn the expense, we take a room. Now, pour the wine, dear.

 

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Karynn and Roger Dine

At this moment, hunting and snaring dinner would be easier than trying to choose a restaurant. The stress is becoming a source of marital discord... the right food, at the right location, and the right price.

Dinner in Amsterdam was easy. A table with a view was all that was required. People walking, biking or passing canal boats proved entertaining for hours! And, the price was reasonable. Prague was wonderful. We found some fabulous little restaurants that were fun, romantic and really well priced. Germany was a surprise... easy to order, good choices, good value.

But now, there is France. It is so complicated and expensive... and my expectations are so much higher. Rogers's are not. So, I drag him around one town after another. "I'll be happy with a hot dog," he wails. The French towns (from Strasbourg to Reims) have a lot of pizzas, pastas, and kebabs .... meals that are more reasonably priced. We have had them all. But finally, we had one of our best meals ... in the car, in the middle of a field of grapes being picked for champagne... stinky cheese, good bread, great sausage and a fine wine. What more could either of us want?

 

 

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A Day at the Bath

If you go to Baden Baden, you HAVE to go the baths - why else visit the place? Except to gamble at the famous casino, shop and promenade the ALichtentaler Allee.

After a day spent lounging the Baden Baden baths, Roger and I were totally blissed out. Of course, the day we visited the baths was the day of NO bathing suits and mixed sexes. I had pause to consider that at my grand age, was my body really something I want to share? But then Rogers's logic of "are you ever going to see them again?" won out. As well, I recalled the Morning Star's golf pro's famous words to me, "Get over yourself."

This was definitely a European spa experience. No fawning over the guests. Just get on with it and don't bother the staff. I thought the spa would be full of older folk, easing their aches and pains. But no, this was the no clothes spa and, damn it, the young women were gorgeous and preening. This town is full of people sixty and up but all the young ones were at the spa so I just had to pretend I was 35 again, always an interesting exercise. But it was so relaxing... no wet bathing suit to deal with. Two massages, four different steam rooms and about six mineral pools of different temperatures of water were ours to revel in under the roman domes... Four hours of bliss and then we were wrapped up like swaddling babies to lie in a special room for thirty minutes while our minds emptied out.

I think we are ready for naked aquafit at the Ravensong pool in Qualicum Beach. There would be no need to buy bathing suits, easy drying off and after the first five minutes no one would even notice each other's bodies.

Let's put Qualicum on the tourist map with aquafit au naturel!

 

 

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Fiata miata

It's the Indie 500, Roger style. We've been gearing down around river corners, revving up as we speed through hillsides of vineyards in our 2 cylinder, tiny Fiat ('fix it again tony'....no more). My goodness, it is just too much like Europe! I think I am on a movie set. All you bicyclists out there ... Head to the Mosel Valley. It is filled with bikers on their own path along the road. Interestingly, it reminds me of Qualicum Beach, BC... They are of a certain vintage. It must be September and the kids are back in school. And none of them wear helmets or wear North American bike gear... dress jackets, blouses, jeans, dress shoes are often de rigeur.

As we cruised into Beilstein, Roger turned to me and laughed, "I can take Jim* in this baby anytime."

*a note of homage to our friend and sometimes traveling companion, Jim Macdonald.

 

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Lost in a fog

Rick Steve's, you know, the PBS travel guru, is our new best friend. He has guided us successfully to Tier, Germany. Certainly I had never heard of the oldest town in Germany. He led us through the sunny warm streets of Amsterdam, Prague, Maastricht and now to Trier. And, we have learned amazing historical facts about all these places. He has told us what to see, where to sleep and where to eat. My God, sometimes I've asked Roger if Rick says its time to breath, sit down or visit the loo!

Today, we have a problem. A fog has settled over the valley. We can't even see the church steeple from our room. We were to start exploring the Mosel Valley, a windy drive filled with spectacular mountain top castles. Sadly, Rick has no words of guidance. We are on our own. There is only one thing do... Drink champagne with our breakfast and then rush over to the largest cathedral outside of Rome, drop to our knees and pray for clear skies .

 

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Seeing both sides now

 

Sittin' in the airport, watch dawn rise. Good bye Prague. It was fun getting to know you. Yesterday was interesting. We walked through cathedrals, castles and dungeons. We went up the funicular to see the Prague Effiel Tower (I thought it was a communist left over structure but no... It built two years after the original Effiel Tower in 1891!) But the big surprise was a music concert and fair we stumbled upon. Families, young adults all wondering around drinking huge beers, carrying emply wine glasses ready for instant fill up, pushing baby buggies, laughing and talking and listening to a variety of musicians. The food carts were amazing. Large potato pancakes, sausages to die for, pickled sweet papers, spicy horse radish. None of this was roped off in a beer garden, no checking IDs, no one behaving badly. Very civilized.

But the real lesson, for me, was the sculpture commemorating the fall of communism. A man, through a series of sculptures, loses parts of himself until he disappears... The result of the dehumanization of the totalitarian state. Being a student in the sixties, being on the edge of hippiness, flirting with new philosophies, it was de rigeur to embrace Russia and blame the USA for everything. I found my self looking backwards and remembering my father who had escaped the Bolsheviks just shaking his head and saying I would grow up. I have seen both sides now.

 

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Shoe shopping with Roger

Woke up this morning knowing that today was going to be different. We had agreed that I was going to check out the shoes in Prague. Yesterday we had shopped at the sausage maker, the baker and the cheese maker, so we had a great little breakfast in our apartment. "Let's just take the tram towards the end of the line first," suggests Roger. Okay, It's early, I'm enthusiastic... So off we go exploring.

And we find a very nice, clean neighborhood, free of tourists and filled with regular folk. No cinder block communist buildings here, they must be at the other end of town. Also, no shoe stores. Since we have to take tram to get downtown, we decide to get off at the castle quarter and walk down through castle courtyards and say hello to the gargoyles as we head towards the city center. No shoe stores here either.


Then we make snap decision to visit the Lobkowicz Palace. A quick stop..no, not so fast. Turns out to be an amazing collection and story of one prominent Czech family ranging from the 1300s up to the present. The Germans took all their lands and treasures and then the Russians took the rest. Today they have it all back. Looking at their family tree, I realize what a mongrel peasant I am.

We have now been walking for hours. We stumble down the hillside to find a fabulous pizza, but no shoes. We continue to walk... Over the remarkable Charles Bridge and along with hundreds of other tourists, we head into the city center. We are now shuffling, my god, we have been walking for hours and we ache. We desperately search to find the metro and to get back to our apartment and collapse into bed. After all, it's a jazz club this evening. I've given up the dream of ever shopping for shoes in Prague.

 

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Imagine

It's a good thing that I am not 19 and traveling through Prague. I simply would not have been mature enough to appreciate the history. As we stand among these magnificent buildings and statues I am horrified by the suffering these people lived through in modern times. First the Germans. Czech was composed of an equal number of German, Czechs and Jews. The nazis killed 95 percent of the Jewish population. After the war, the Russians walked in.

Today, Roger and I paid homage to John Lennon and visited the John Lennon wall. I didn't even know it existed. When he died in 1980, people came out at night and painted on the wall, inspired by his songs, Imagine and All You Need Is Love. Each night the Russians would paint over the wall. This went on until 1989, when the 'velvet revolution' succeeded and the Russians left.

It so much easier for me to go the Hawaii, etc. Eat, drink, enjoy the heat and turn off the mind. So far I have been challenged by history, by different ways of living, by different attitudes. And, I am old enough to appreciate the challenge. I also really appreciate growing up and living in Canada. I have been blessed.

 

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Holiday Eyes

It just seems so damn civilized. Want a drink? Go to a bar. Want a toke? Go to a 'coffee shop'. Want to have sex? Go pick a willing woman out of a window. Mind you, I can't figure out women are supposed to do - I guess we don't have the urge. Have family? Get a larger bike!

With all the hullabaloo about sex and drugs in Canada, it makes me wonder if we are just situated too close to the USA to see any other ways to live life. "Where are all your homeless people?" I asked our host. He looked at me askance. "We have a few but there are shelters." We have seen no one sleeping in the parks, in entrance ways, on the streets. We have shelters, but our nooks and crannies are often bedrooms.

Amsterdam has given me lots to ponder. Tomorrow we fly to Prague. The weather station is calling for wind, rain and thunderstorms. I dread the air flight already.

 

 

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A difference of thinking

I gotta say .... I really don't like flying but I'm sure glad I made myself get on that plane because otherwise I would't know that I am a little in love with Amsterdam.

But here are the real issues. Where are all the old people? This a young, vibrant, laid back city. I don't see many seniors or overweight people. And, there are no 'walk' and 'don't walk' signals, let alone traffic signals! Talk about letting people use their critical thinking skills. Bikes just fly by with no one wearing helmets! Babies on the front, friends sit on the back fender side saddle. The air is clean, there is way less 'city noise' and ambient light because there are way less cars. The smell of marijuana wafts from the coffee shops and there is no obvious police presence on the street.

It makes wonder why we feel we have to hold Canadians hands, tell us how to it, when to do it and what not to do. Maybe, we as a population should grow up and demand our government treat us as adults.


 

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Test

 

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Luggage + clothes = 15.5 lbs = one month travel

I have been packing. The goal was to take enough clothes and shoes for hot, cool and wet weather and to be able to dress up and dress down. I whittled the entire weight down to 15.5 pounds. (Yes, that includes curly hair products, moisturizers, etc!) Fifteen pounds is easily carried on the plane and easily hauled around on our travels.

 Packing is rather like life. You need to pack enough to carry you through life’s journey – social and survival skills, some type of educational training. We need the ability to love and laugh, and to find shelter, clothing and food. Those are the basics and then we start layering. We add judgement and criticism of ourselves and others. Clothes must make a statement and flatter our bodies. We want lots of choices. Our shelter aims towards the grandeur. And then we fill it with pictures, furniture, cushions, vases, rugs, books, china and on and on. We should be careful not too carry too much – we can become weighed down and then it becomes difficult to travel, to change, to try new things... to keep our intellectual flexibility. Pack light.

Heart of Darkness

Horne Lake Caves – A Caving Adventure. Hey, it was on Groupon and a great deal so I bought it. “Are you guys really this old?” asked our incredulous guide. “I can’t believe it.” Yeah – because we were probably the oldest people who had ever gone on this ‘adventure’ and he was wondering how he was going to get out bodies out. 

OMG, I thought I was going to die. For five hours, three couples (the other ones were in their early thirties and then there was Roger and me) lived underground crawling on our bellies in water, gravel and over rocks to get through 12 inch high openings in the rock. Do you have any idea how difficult that is???? I have renewed respect for navy seals. We belayed down a rock face searching for small finger holes and footholds… knowing that the worse was still to come. And there is was, a picture of hell. A narrow long silver ladder hung in the middle of a large cavern. One by one we belayed down to a rocky outcrop. Then we had to reach out to grab on to the ladder and climb down. It was hellish. Every muscle in my body strained and quivered as I tried to hang on. 

The problem was – we had to go back up the ladder, climb up the rock wall, get down on our bellies and slither back to the daylight. Climbing back up the ladder was incredibly hard. I can’t remember ever doing anything more physically challenging. And, I had such a large responsibility. I was carrying every 65 year old woman in Canada on my back. I had to make it to the top! I did and I made it back out of the cave. Wow, talk about a full body workout! I’m tougher than I thought.