The xmas cards are in the mail and some may have arrived already with no pictures included. So in a quick attempt to share a bit of the family with you we've put a slide show or two on this blog. We will do better next time, having spanned the learning curve.
We moved into the new house for sleeping purposes around the 15th of November as Linda had invited some surprise guest for Gary's 70th the next day. Not everything is ready for comfortable occupancy, but we all had a wonderful time proving its who you're with and not the surroundings that really matter.
The house is getting a little redecorating including new kitchen appliances, counter tops, and an expanded deck. The kitchen became a bigger problem than anticipated when we discovered the difficulties of installing an overhead exhaust system for the new range top to replace the old down draft system. What started as a simple expansion of the deck and a resurfacing of the old area has turned into a complete rebuild. And that landscaping project that we'd anticipated to be completed by Xmas will be delayed until spring after running into severe problems with a rather immature landscape architect. But we are here, sleeping well and making snails progress daily.
I'm sure that daughter Nadean will kill me for her picture, because she never scowls and has a beautiful smile that lights up her face and those of those around her, but this was the only one in our immediate stash.
Sunday, December 04, 2011
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Its coast must be among the most beautiful; its relics among the best preserved; and its adaptation to tourism rated among the best executed. Croatia lives up to its advertising. Blessed with the same climate, coastline and tourist access, its southern neighbor, Montenegro is like a dirty diaper on a beautiful baby.Getting to that tranquil coast takes a bit of effort, and time. Airline schedules are limited--particularly in the off-season. For those still able to party through the night getting up at 4 a.m. to catch a 6 a.m. flight is just an extension of yesterday. For those of us for whom the hours between midnight and six are figments of someone else's imagination, pre-dawn schedules garner unflattering adjectives. Decisively, the magnetic attraction for that last glass of wine under the moon on the Adriatic erases the logical option--go to bed early. To endure is to enjoy.
Clearly, there is more in Croatia to enjoy than to endure.
Like much of Europe, Croatia capitalizes on natural beauty and well preserved history. It also takes full advantage of available cash and long range planning.
The old city in Dubrovnik, shelled and badly damaged in the "conflict" in the early 1990's, is a living relic lovingly restored. Two kilometers of massive stone walls enclose an ancient town of thriving stores selling the normal tourist kitsch, better than average ice cream and a challenging assortment of restaurants. It is also a living city in which its people carry on traditions and lives influenced by generations. Reconstruction has been done carefully: old and ancient, like grandparents, given new roles.
The old city and the new work. Transportation is inexpensive, wide ranging and on time. The garbage is picked up and the streets washed. Only the tourists are pushy. Croatian has done well with self promotion.
Major hotels dot the hills and ring the bays. With Russians and Chinese now part of mainstream tourism, numbers of visitors are swelling and to be there in the "season" doesn't seem appealing. This is a coast with a limited season like Maine in the U.S. From May 25 the streets are packed, the hotels full and the t-shirts fly off the racks. After September 15, you can find a seat on the bus and make a last minute decision on restaurants.Alluring cash and human greed are always a danger when a spot is "found" and available to the masses. How many places have we seen destroyed by their popularity like Costa del Sol and possibly Yosemite. Montenegro, just a pleasant day tour to the south of Dubrovnik is the Adriatic example. Construction is everywhere, cheap and unplanned. New apartments, flats and houses have no guarantee of electricity and water because the infrastructure has not been staged. Year-old buildings are worn and aging. It has its greatest appeal to Russian and eastern European buyers. As our traveling companion said, if you live in ramshackle all your life, a glimpse of green and blue waters is heaven. Montenegro has its beautiful artifacts. But what is being restored is largely for upscale digs. The contrast with Croatia is definite and definitive.
The "Croatian Greyhound" ride north from Dubrovnik to Split is only 200 hundred kilometers, or about 120 miles, but takes four hours along a constantly winding coastal road. It is much like traveling along Hiway 1 in California, except the view is of islands, bays, and inlets rather than open seas. Sit on the left hand side of the bus as the view of the rocky mountains to the right might get monotonous. Certainly to take this ride is to dream about returning to rent the little villa tucked into the cove at the bottom of the steep cliff; to putt through the Ponnonian Plain on a motor scooter; or lounge through the islands aboard a small, chartered sail boat. Stopping to pick up the random local helps to add life to all that beauty.Passing the seven miles of oyster and mussel beds excites the palette. A bowl of fresh shells and a bit of excellent local wine spring to mind when you arrive in Split. But I must admit that after all that scenery, arriving in Split is a bit of a jolt. A mass of ugly high rises smacks you in the eyes and a feeling of disorder replaces the tranquility. Things get better near the bus station at the water front, but only slightly. A throng of obviously poor people wanting to rent you a room greets your arrival. The city is clean and full of bustle, but obviously has not benefited from the rising economic tide. But it will.
The historic walled city Palace of Diocletian is alive and rather spectacular. Its catacombs have been excavated since the 1980's and it too has a new and full life. In fact, it is better integrated into the general life of the city than the old city of Dubrovnik with better shops, markets and hotels. However, regardless of the decor, each restaurant seemed to serve the same menu--good but the same. The promenade is new, modern and beautiful, attracting as many locals as tourist to enjoy the cafes or just sit and watch the small boats rocking to the beat of the breeze. And, Split has its local characters. One a severely hunched-over old woman supported by a chest stick, head shaking uncontrollably from a Parkinson type ailment, a draped black hanging scarf concealing her face and features, begs quite successfully. A careful look at those outstretched hands reveals those of a strong, younger woman. The act is worth the price of admission and goes without question. Our traveling companion took a picture of her kissing the toes of a famous statue. Doing so is supposed to have magical powers. Then, totally by happenstance, he turned back to look about 10 seconds later and there was an absolutely gorgeous young lady, dressed almost the same in black and scarf walking towards us. We tried to get Sonja and Linda to kiss the toe, but got only looks of scorn!
Zagreb looks worth a visit, a least from the air. Maybe on a future trip. But now we must concentrate on getting moved from Zurich to Brussels. Our friends tell us there is much to see in the Benelux, so stay tuned.
As we might have mentioned the new Brussels house has four bedrooms--lots of space for a visit.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Malta Weekend
It is only a speck, a jumble of rock 120 miles south of Sicily. Its once lush flora has been decimated by centuries of harvesting to build ships and warm fires; its soil eroded by resulting lack of cover; its fauna, which included pigs and pigmie elephants has disappeared to a population that still shoots anything that moves; and its roads appear to date from the Romans. But from the private hot tub on the veranda of your room at the five star Xara Palace under a full moon, Malta is a rather romantic place to spend a birthday and wedding anniversary.
People have been honeymooning , pre and post honeymooning on Malta since 3500 BC. It was covered with trees, grasses, bushes and flowers then; Its Mediterranean forest full of an exotic range of animals, many known only to Malta. Today it is an admixture of beautiful Roman architecture, modest Turkish influences and a workable infrastructure imposed by the British all resting on piles of rock. Once important and influential because of its strategic position among the trade routes and then as a military outpost, it survived as a financial haven and is gaining wealth as a tourist center.
Admission to the EU with attendant availability of development dollars and an insightful approach to historically based renovation appear to be keeping its 400,000 population in comfortable style. Maltese are a rather lazy group by their own admission or maybe it is 6000 years of history that allows them feel that life and family will survive despite the winds of change. Early on they let the developers prevail with tearing down the old and building glass, steel and modernity. But they soon realized that this is incompatible with the feeling that tourists seek on a distant island. Today development within a building can make modern changes, but the exterior and overall historical feeling must be preserved As a consequence, it is a charming place to visit (for a few days). If your budget can take it, one of the 17 luxury suites at the five star Xara Palace in Mdina will add a great deal to those days.
Mdina, the quiet city, is a magificiently maintained walled city at the top of Malta. While lots of tourist spots abound within its walls, there are only a handful of cars allowed and only one hotel, the Xara, inside. Its narrow crooked streets were designed to slow down horsemen and even our experienced driver never exceeded five miles an hour inside the city. Admittance to the EU has meant that centuries of grime have been removed from its towering stones walls and buildings, the electric wires and telephone lines from its building exteriors and the stone block streets cleaned and repaired. It is the essence of spotlessness.
Residence at the hotel under our package gave us unlimited use of a car with a driver for our three days. That luxury is worth the price of admission. Finding your way on the island would be impossible with its one way streets, right hand driving, twisting narrow alleys,abundant pot-holes and myriad of villages. We were disappointed only in that the driver was not a better tourist guide. Despite his charm, driving skills and knowledge of the hot spots, he was terribly short on the details of Malta’s boundless historical sites.
On our second day we chartered a 35 foot catamaran ably captained and crewed by Trevor and Trudy. Cats sail very poorly into the wind and speed right along downwind. The wind blew against us for the ride up to Blue Lagoon so we motored as planned. It then died for about half the way home that evening. Consequently, it was not as exciting a sail as we might have liked but a wonderful day that left us sun burned and exhausted none the less. After a warm shower to scrape of all that encrusted salt, we dressed up for a scenic walk to dinner and encountered the only rain they’ve had in months—must have been about an inch in an hour. But alas, even a little drooped, we enjoyed an outstanding bottle of very limited supply Maltese wine, and a very fine meal.
If you ever decide that Malta is on your list, be aware that it can be financially dangerous. While prices are not high and certainly better than in Switzerland, the Malta Lire is equal to more than three U.S. dollars--so it’s a popper when you suddenly realize that the 20 you just tipped a nice driver is about a $65.
We truly enjoyed our long weekend, but probably find nothing extra to make us return. Despite their advertising to the contrary, Malta is not a water wonderland. The beaches are rocky, the diving bland mostly limited to wrecks and small caves, and the sailing subject to marginal wind availability. But if you want to just relax in luxury among wonderful architecture, amble among friendly, family oriented locals and have very nice food, pick a direct flight and three days and add Malta to your check list.
People have been honeymooning , pre and post honeymooning on Malta since 3500 BC. It was covered with trees, grasses, bushes and flowers then; Its Mediterranean forest full of an exotic range of animals, many known only to Malta. Today it is an admixture of beautiful Roman architecture, modest Turkish influences and a workable infrastructure imposed by the British all resting on piles of rock. Once important and influential because of its strategic position among the trade routes and then as a military outpost, it survived as a financial haven and is gaining wealth as a tourist center.
Admission to the EU with attendant availability of development dollars and an insightful approach to historically based renovation appear to be keeping its 400,000 population in comfortable style. Maltese are a rather lazy group by their own admission or maybe it is 6000 years of history that allows them feel that life and family will survive despite the winds of change. Early on they let the developers prevail with tearing down the old and building glass, steel and modernity. But they soon realized that this is incompatible with the feeling that tourists seek on a distant island. Today development within a building can make modern changes, but the exterior and overall historical feeling must be preserved As a consequence, it is a charming place to visit (for a few days). If your budget can take it, one of the 17 luxury suites at the five star Xara Palace in Mdina will add a great deal to those days.
Mdina, the quiet city, is a magificiently maintained walled city at the top of Malta. While lots of tourist spots abound within its walls, there are only a handful of cars allowed and only one hotel, the Xara, inside. Its narrow crooked streets were designed to slow down horsemen and even our experienced driver never exceeded five miles an hour inside the city. Admittance to the EU has meant that centuries of grime have been removed from its towering stones walls and buildings, the electric wires and telephone lines from its building exteriors and the stone block streets cleaned and repaired. It is the essence of spotlessness.
Residence at the hotel under our package gave us unlimited use of a car with a driver for our three days. That luxury is worth the price of admission. Finding your way on the island would be impossible with its one way streets, right hand driving, twisting narrow alleys,abundant pot-holes and myriad of villages. We were disappointed only in that the driver was not a better tourist guide. Despite his charm, driving skills and knowledge of the hot spots, he was terribly short on the details of Malta’s boundless historical sites.
On our second day we chartered a 35 foot catamaran ably captained and crewed by Trevor and Trudy. Cats sail very poorly into the wind and speed right along downwind. The wind blew against us for the ride up to Blue Lagoon so we motored as planned. It then died for about half the way home that evening. Consequently, it was not as exciting a sail as we might have liked but a wonderful day that left us sun burned and exhausted none the less. After a warm shower to scrape of all that encrusted salt, we dressed up for a scenic walk to dinner and encountered the only rain they’ve had in months—must have been about an inch in an hour. But alas, even a little drooped, we enjoyed an outstanding bottle of very limited supply Maltese wine, and a very fine meal.
If you ever decide that Malta is on your list, be aware that it can be financially dangerous. While prices are not high and certainly better than in Switzerland, the Malta Lire is equal to more than three U.S. dollars--so it’s a popper when you suddenly realize that the 20 you just tipped a nice driver is about a $65.
We truly enjoyed our long weekend, but probably find nothing extra to make us return. Despite their advertising to the contrary, Malta is not a water wonderland. The beaches are rocky, the diving bland mostly limited to wrecks and small caves, and the sailing subject to marginal wind availability. But if you want to just relax in luxury among wonderful architecture, amble among friendly, family oriented locals and have very nice food, pick a direct flight and three days and add Malta to your check list.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
The bikes required a bit of repair before the long ride around the lake--especially after the boys had "tweaked" them the day before.
Aside from everything else, their favorite activities included naps (here just starting a marathon 3 hour one in Verona), the stand-on and squat john in Verona, and of course the girls whom they watched rather quietly through out. I told them that I'd pay for a gondola ride in Venice, but they had to find two girls to take along. Well, there weren't many sixteen year olds available--just lots of college girls and the boys weren't that brave.
Aside from everything else, their favorite activities included naps (here just starting a marathon 3 hour one in Verona), the stand-on and squat john in Verona, and of course the girls whom they watched rather quietly through out. I told them that I'd pay for a gondola ride in Venice, but they had to find two girls to take along. Well, there weren't many sixteen year olds available--just lots of college girls and the boys weren't that brave.
There is nothing quite so much fun as being a grandparent--especially when its evident that your kids have learned from your mistakes and produced wonderful people.
Two weeks with Grandson Jason and his friend Jason has been a marvelous treat.
Here in Zermatt, the clouds even gave us beautiful scenery
Of course they couldn't resist sea sawing at 12,000 ft. We should learn to harness all that energy.
Jason and Kevin snow boarded at Zermatt. He's just coming down from several hours worth. Kevin is making a last run.
Friday, May 19, 2006
SICILY SWAPS A QUESTION
SICILY SWAPS A QUESTION FOR AN ANSWER
After a few days in Sicily you leave with the question “Why hasn’t Sicily produced a singe architect in 200 years?” and you have the answer to “Where do last year’s unsold $220 Hogan tennies and $150 Gucci leather belts wind up?”
On an island whose legacies owe to its occupation by the most architecturally gifted cultures during 2500 years; whose plethora of ruins, relics and icons date to before Christ; whose churches and domes speak in grand arches and graceful curves, whose national art history glorifies the Fibonacci sequence and the Golden Mean, why has nothing in the last two hundred years been designed using anything but a box? The only modern man-made things that curve in Sicily are the roads and they don’t come close to a Golden Curve. It is a culture that uses something until it falls down and appears to never tear down. There is an ambience of permanence and strength in those old stone structures, even a degree of overall warmth in the cold stones that modern concrete just doesn’t exude.
In many places Sicily, benefiting from European Union Cultural and Economic grants, is spending million of dollars to reconstruct and rehabilitate both the relics and the walls and the old buildings. In the southern city of Siracuse, the old island section of town is almost a 100% under renovation—a massive project that leaves you wondering who will occupy these renovated but little modernized block after block of buildings. In the some of the ancient buildings the attention to archeology and true renovation is evident, but in the common buildings there is trouble keeping new plaster from falling off the stone cores. There seems to be a disconnect, in places, between the past and the present making you wonder whether the current time represents a comma, semicolon, colon or period in the course of history’s sentence. I doubt that it is a new paragraph and definitely not a new chapter.
Except for frenetic tourists, life appears relaxed and established. The countryside and coastlines are gorgeous with small, stone terraced farm parcels everywhere. It is heartening to see even in the most tourist dominated localities, like Taormina, these plots being maintained and used—they produce the fresh produce that is stacked on carts in every village and town. In the coastal towns, they sit next to carts full of the morning catch of eels, tuna, swordfish, squid, shrimp, octopus and local fish varieties that Sicilian cooks turn into feasts. In the big cities like Catania the market is daily, with carts, stands and elaborately designed trucks filling narrow streets and squares for blocks. In small towns the markets are twice a week and in the smallest only once. And it is there you find those Hogans. You have to look and sort through the piles because these are not brand conscious markets. And, Walla, precisely at one, it all disappears in what seems an instant. Of course bargaining becomes much better the closer to one you happen to be.
One puzzles at the economics of the east and southern regions. Tourism, of course, makes towns and villages appear vigorous. But there are marked differences and a good divide between the haves and have-nots. On the drive around the circumference of Etna the town of Lingualossa has charm and an old world feel. Miles on, the larger Randazzo is garbage strewn and reeks of under employed and frustrated youth.
Peak into an open doorway along a narrow alley/street of old stone buildings in any town and you will likely see small dark quarters with plain, sparse furnishing, an electrical outlet or two, but always a TV. It is difficult in the old quarters to differentiate between the “better neighborhoods” from the exterior, but peak over a wall and you may just see a gorgeous interior, bright and airy, with open space and gardens—always a garden. Like much of Europe, Sicilian culture may well disdain outward show of difference and success. Those of the younger generation like to show off a bit more than the older. Maybe Sicily may thrive with current interior decoration where it fails with modern exterior architecture.
Having walked through enough Duomos in the last three years to qualify for at least a free coffee while in line for heaven, we were surprised at how prominently churches and old public buildings feature in Sicily’s guide books but how few are open to the public. Have they nothing within? Is the benefit and attraction of the religion only skin deep? God seems to have closed this gob of his summer retreats for another season.
Sicily is still a rather unspoiled destination—unspoiled by Starbucks, McDonalds and Burger King. The older men (unfortunately those of our age) still dress in slacks and sport coats and caps to chat among themselves in the squares and over an espresso. . Tourist shopping areas are largely devoid of T-shirt shops and pure junk. You still find charming ones that sell local crafts and you can buy a double espresso for under a buck. (you need two after driving). Our new GPS was a key to marital bliss, although Isadora—the disembodied voice in that little box—did become quite confused on switch backs and in detours that took us left when she said “right”. We both swear that we heard her say, after a steady stream of “I’m recalculating” while ascending to our peak top hotel, “Oh s---, find it yourself”
Our penchant for early and late season travel helped make Sicily a much more enjoyable place. Spring in a pastoral setting is uplifting. I can’t imagine it with a full crush of tourists and buses vying for space on the tight mountain roads.
There is nothing quite like standing at the edge of the crater of Mt Etna with your feet at 100 degrees, your head freezing at 30 degrees less the wind chill of a 40 knot wind while looking down at the beaches of the coast lulling under a 70 degree sun. Nor is there anything more discouraging that peering over the edge of your toes while standing on your bathroom scale to discover that Sicilian dining to 11 pm each night over 8 days has added four pounds to your next New Year’s resolution.
Buy a good Guide Book and make sure to hire Luigi in Agrigento.
After a few days in Sicily you leave with the question “Why hasn’t Sicily produced a singe architect in 200 years?” and you have the answer to “Where do last year’s unsold $220 Hogan tennies and $150 Gucci leather belts wind up?”
On an island whose legacies owe to its occupation by the most architecturally gifted cultures during 2500 years; whose plethora of ruins, relics and icons date to before Christ; whose churches and domes speak in grand arches and graceful curves, whose national art history glorifies the Fibonacci sequence and the Golden Mean, why has nothing in the last two hundred years been designed using anything but a box? The only modern man-made things that curve in Sicily are the roads and they don’t come close to a Golden Curve. It is a culture that uses something until it falls down and appears to never tear down. There is an ambience of permanence and strength in those old stone structures, even a degree of overall warmth in the cold stones that modern concrete just doesn’t exude.
In many places Sicily, benefiting from European Union Cultural and Economic grants, is spending million of dollars to reconstruct and rehabilitate both the relics and the walls and the old buildings. In the southern city of Siracuse, the old island section of town is almost a 100% under renovation—a massive project that leaves you wondering who will occupy these renovated but little modernized block after block of buildings. In the some of the ancient buildings the attention to archeology and true renovation is evident, but in the common buildings there is trouble keeping new plaster from falling off the stone cores. There seems to be a disconnect, in places, between the past and the present making you wonder whether the current time represents a comma, semicolon, colon or period in the course of history’s sentence. I doubt that it is a new paragraph and definitely not a new chapter.
Except for frenetic tourists, life appears relaxed and established. The countryside and coastlines are gorgeous with small, stone terraced farm parcels everywhere. It is heartening to see even in the most tourist dominated localities, like Taormina, these plots being maintained and used—they produce the fresh produce that is stacked on carts in every village and town. In the coastal towns, they sit next to carts full of the morning catch of eels, tuna, swordfish, squid, shrimp, octopus and local fish varieties that Sicilian cooks turn into feasts. In the big cities like Catania the market is daily, with carts, stands and elaborately designed trucks filling narrow streets and squares for blocks. In small towns the markets are twice a week and in the smallest only once. And it is there you find those Hogans. You have to look and sort through the piles because these are not brand conscious markets. And, Walla, precisely at one, it all disappears in what seems an instant. Of course bargaining becomes much better the closer to one you happen to be.
One puzzles at the economics of the east and southern regions. Tourism, of course, makes towns and villages appear vigorous. But there are marked differences and a good divide between the haves and have-nots. On the drive around the circumference of Etna the town of Lingualossa has charm and an old world feel. Miles on, the larger Randazzo is garbage strewn and reeks of under employed and frustrated youth.
Peak into an open doorway along a narrow alley/street of old stone buildings in any town and you will likely see small dark quarters with plain, sparse furnishing, an electrical outlet or two, but always a TV. It is difficult in the old quarters to differentiate between the “better neighborhoods” from the exterior, but peak over a wall and you may just see a gorgeous interior, bright and airy, with open space and gardens—always a garden. Like much of Europe, Sicilian culture may well disdain outward show of difference and success. Those of the younger generation like to show off a bit more than the older. Maybe Sicily may thrive with current interior decoration where it fails with modern exterior architecture.
Having walked through enough Duomos in the last three years to qualify for at least a free coffee while in line for heaven, we were surprised at how prominently churches and old public buildings feature in Sicily’s guide books but how few are open to the public. Have they nothing within? Is the benefit and attraction of the religion only skin deep? God seems to have closed this gob of his summer retreats for another season.
Sicily is still a rather unspoiled destination—unspoiled by Starbucks, McDonalds and Burger King. The older men (unfortunately those of our age) still dress in slacks and sport coats and caps to chat among themselves in the squares and over an espresso. . Tourist shopping areas are largely devoid of T-shirt shops and pure junk. You still find charming ones that sell local crafts and you can buy a double espresso for under a buck. (you need two after driving). Our new GPS was a key to marital bliss, although Isadora—the disembodied voice in that little box—did become quite confused on switch backs and in detours that took us left when she said “right”. We both swear that we heard her say, after a steady stream of “I’m recalculating” while ascending to our peak top hotel, “Oh s---, find it yourself”
Our penchant for early and late season travel helped make Sicily a much more enjoyable place. Spring in a pastoral setting is uplifting. I can’t imagine it with a full crush of tourists and buses vying for space on the tight mountain roads.
There is nothing quite like standing at the edge of the crater of Mt Etna with your feet at 100 degrees, your head freezing at 30 degrees less the wind chill of a 40 knot wind while looking down at the beaches of the coast lulling under a 70 degree sun. Nor is there anything more discouraging that peering over the edge of your toes while standing on your bathroom scale to discover that Sicilian dining to 11 pm each night over 8 days has added four pounds to your next New Year’s resolution.
Buy a good Guide Book and make sure to hire Luigi in Agrigento.
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