tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69517202145585724062024-03-06T00:01:15.307-08:00France, Italy & Austria 2012Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-39455782767962830782012-09-23T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-30T17:51:33.926-07:00FINAL REPORT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The drive from Bruck to Augsburg was comfortable and scenic. We went by the famous <a href="http://www.wasserfaelle-krimml.at/html_engl/wasserfall_engl.html">Krimmel Waterfalls</a> and admired the huge volumes of water plummeting down three tiers of falls. Then north into Germany</span>,<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> down out of the mountains and across the rolling</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> wheat fields and on to Munich. The traffic was light until we got on the ring road around Munich and then, north of town, we ran into </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a terrible backup. The ambulances and firetrucks were </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">klaxonning down the freeway, so after sitting in stop and go traffic for 45 minutes, advancing about 2 miles, we decided to get off the freeway and take surface streets. I had a route spotted on my map and figured Trexie would take us the best way into Wallgauer Wag.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, right away we missed a turn and got shot off into farm country. We zig-zagged around field after field, Don questioning me often about the turns we were making, and finally we got to territory Don recognized. We drove into the court, found a (rare) parking spot, and met up with Klaus and Evelyn Aker at their home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was so good to spend some time with them again</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and, as always, they were very fun and interesting to visit with. We enjoyed a delicious dinner, and talked and talked until it was bedtime. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning we got up, had breakfast and talked some more. Evelyn wanted to entertain us by going somewhere, but we were just satisfied to hang out at their house and talk all day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday morning we said our goodbyes and headed out early to catch our plane </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">for home.</span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The flight was comfortable and our transfer at Heathrow was not too stressful. Kudos to British Air for having comfortable seating and those nice personal viewing screens on their aircraft. We got into SFO around 5pm and DJ came to pick us up and take us home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was a terrific trip. Here are our recommendations:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. GO TO THE AUSTRIAN ALPS. With all of the traveling we have done, I have never enjoyed the scenery as much. Austria is twice as beautiful and half the price of Switzerland.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. <a href="http://www.austria.info/us/austria-nature-adventure/biking-throughout-austria-1125458.html">Bike ride in Austria</a>. This is the most bicycle-friendly country we have visited. Lots of nice bike paths and good bike lanes in major cities, too. The valleys at the foot of the Alps offer many excellent bike rides, with opportunities for interesting climbs and descents, if desired.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/">AirBnB</a> worked out very well for us, so we can recommend their listings. We found the descriptions and ratings to be accurate.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. If you are going to Venice, stay at the <a href="http://www.bbhobo.it/en/gallery/">Hobo B&B</a> for a very good value and a delightful hostess with lots of great advice. Spotless, spacious rooms, generous breakfast, nice garden for afternoon drinks, helpful and cooperative hostess, reasonable prices. Information and photos at <a href="http://www.bbhobo.it/">www.bbhobo.it</a>and contact at info@bbhobo.it</span>. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You can catch the boat into the city for a very reasonable price and it is an interesting and scenic way to enter Venice, from the sea.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. If you are in the Burgundy region of France, visit the <a href="http://www.chateau-de-dree.com/">Chateau de Dree</a>. This chateau is one of the nicer ones we have visited over our many years of touring in France, fully furnished with authentic period furniture right down to the silverware and crystal on the dining table</span>, <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">beautifully maintained grounds and </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a good guided tour in English.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-7972626325701590562012-09-18T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-30T17:54:54.602-07:00BIKE RIDE to NIEDERSILL<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The day dawned sunny and blue and we decided to do one more bike ride before we packed up our bikes for the trip home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is a very nice bike path that runs right in back of our house, so we went out and got on the bike path and rode along the river and then up towards the mountain range, and along the farm country for about 20 kilometers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Along the way we checked out the ski area at Kaprun and the little commuter train that glides along the tracks on a very frequent schedule, the snowy peaks towering above us, and the green pastures full of cows. At one point we played bike tag with a group of girl scouts who joined us on the path. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We had lunch on a nice picnic table stationed along the route. The scenery was beautiful from my perspective and from Don's perspective across the table the scenery was just as beautiful. It was beautiful on both side too. Sorry to be so repetitious, but that is just the way the scenery is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After 20 kilometers out we turned around and rode the 20 kilometers back again for a very satisfying ride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last few days in Bruck:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">September 19, 20, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wednesday night we enjoyed a very nice visit, wine and snacks with our hosts, Karin and Gerhard. We had a good time sharing travel and home exchange stories, talking about the sights we have seen and the places we have visited and plans for the future. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, Thursday, Don got busy packing up the bikes, snuggling his 4 jars of 29cent Dijon in between bike parts, and weighing the bike bags to be sure they are not over the allowed weight. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the afternoon he went to the Grossglockner Alpen Challenge 2012. The main events will occur this weekend, but they are gathering today at the foot of the Grossglockner. As with the tractors, the guys will all be walkin' and talkin' car stuff, showing off their fancy cars, shiny engines and special features. I decided to stay home and take a nap.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tomorrow we drive to Augsberg for a few days with our friends and former exchangers, Evelyn and Klaus Aker before catching our flight home to California. </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-52532105909272683792012-09-17T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-30T17:56:47.099-07:00HOHENWERFEN CASTLE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">September 17, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">One last castle report--the commanding white castle we see on the road from Bruck to Salzburg.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Hohenwerfen castle is an 11th century castle that has undergone numerous remodels, enlarging, fortifying and updating to protect against the evolving weaponry. This is where, in the torture chamber, our friend, Wolf Dietrich met his end after falling from grace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We enjoyed a guided tour of the chapel, torture chamber, the dungeon, the bell tower and the state rooms. The torture chamber was complete with instruments of torture, full descriptions and some demonstrations of how they were used. Again, the views from the bell tower down the Salzacktel were beautiful. I have used every adjective I can think of 7 times over, trying to give you the idea of how fabulous the scenery is, but my words do not do it justice. Thank goodness for Don's photos, which do a better job.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After the tour of the castle and keep we went into the yard for a falconry show. Falcons were kept here because this castle was used as a hunting lodge. The falcon master brought out several different types of birds of prey, including a vulture and a bald eagle. Of course they came out one at a time. Each time the trainer would ceremoniously march out into the yard, huge bird mounted on his gloved hand, and then he would untie the bird's leg, send the bird flying, and using a long leather thong with a lure on the end, would have the bird fly low to try to catch the lure. The birds could not really fly far because they had some bells and weights attached to keep them from escaping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The falcons would soar up into the sky, and dive down toward the lure and the falcon master would swing the lure just out of reach as the birds swooped in for the kill. Finally he would allow the bird to catch the lure and reward it with a mouse or gizzard of something, and take it away before coming back with yet another bird. The old brown buzzard was so tame he was just like Petros the pelican from Greece. He would follow the announcer around the yard like a puppy dog and she would occasionally toss a little white mouse toward the audience so the bird would come close and we could see him well. The show was about 45 minutes long and finished up with a dramatic demonstration with the bald eagle. These are BIG birds. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As we strolled backup the hill to the museum we stopped to look at the drawings and photos of all of the falcon masters from the 11th century monk to the most recent falcon master, who retired in 1989. The guy who did the demonstration is a young guy--maybe in his early twenties, and he wasn't in the picture gallery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Next we visited the extensive weaponry display, tracing the history of weaponry from early man using spears, all the way through cannons and firearms from the middle ages and on to weapons and uniforms from WWI. There was an interesting display of armor and medieval weapons set up on life sized stick figures who were positioned as if they were in a battle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After leaving the fortress we drove across the canyon and up the mountain to the famous ice cave. Since Don is still hacking and sniffling with his cold we decided not to take the two hour tour in sub-zero temperatures. But, we drove back down the mountain a short distance and set up our tablecloth and had a nice picnic lunch overlooking the beautiful river valley. </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-42205922659911295102012-09-16T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-29T10:08:41.532-07:00SALZBURG Hohensalzburg Fortress & Hellbrunn Palace<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">September 16, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back to Salzburg for another day of touring. We decided to park outside of the city center and take the bus into town. The bus rides were included with our Salzburg card and this plan worked out very well. Our first stop in the city today was the imposing Hohensalzburg Fortress, which looms over the city and can be seen from just about everywhere.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByoudzbH2PMFR-ii7MkhneGRkAPXcUl8aUUrDJHl-DQ5N-YGU0XcSlk8ouq6Tdy70EhqbJwyKuHOOkpKB_SKTdTu2N7G2M6SF3woBze9UeI6ZCkSheGaH7SKidXGd0BA_XBxVbhILMSg/s1600/2012-09-16+Salzburg-Hellbrun+Palace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByoudzbH2PMFR-ii7MkhneGRkAPXcUl8aUUrDJHl-DQ5N-YGU0XcSlk8ouq6Tdy70EhqbJwyKuHOOkpKB_SKTdTu2N7G2M6SF3woBze9UeI6ZCkSheGaH7SKidXGd0BA_XBxVbhILMSg/s640/2012-09-16+Salzburg-Hellbrun+Palace.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fortress was first built in the 11th century and modernized and expanded over the years to medieval times. It is the largest remaining fortress of that age in Europe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To reach the fortress we took a funicular up the hill. As we were gliding up the cliffside we could first see the roof tops of the city, and then the river and then the green valley. The fantastic view from the fortress out over the city will just take your breath away. We spent our first 20 minutes atop the hill just looking out over the scenery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then it was time to get our audio guide and join the guided tour of the castle. Up the steep stairs and into the castle keep to visit the state rooms, the gallery, the fortress museum, the marionette museum and the torture chamber. Then up and up and up many stars to the observation tower at the top of the fortress, where we had a magnificent 360 view of the whole region.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The visit was far more than my brief description, but there was much more to do today, so I am saving some space for the rest of the story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After lunch we hopped on the bus and went out to the south edge of the city to Hellbrunn Palace. This palace was built by another Archbishop, Markus Sittikus, in 1612. This palace was to be a vacation home where one could relax and play, rather than a formal meeting place to conduct business.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXLeAQ6n3aXdXNsHByKjMnOy7M4vF5MwMCZrvGp9NL_wZ4C0g5SIJQDTirYNvQ9zPFoEr-VPSy_jAAyKaP2Ou-szAWGjsraE-8CE93fyg354908-Sv6OFrljbr7ixx3mOlh95xtozWcI/s1600/P1140207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXLeAQ6n3aXdXNsHByKjMnOy7M4vF5MwMCZrvGp9NL_wZ4C0g5SIJQDTirYNvQ9zPFoEr-VPSy_jAAyKaP2Ou-szAWGjsraE-8CE93fyg354908-Sv6OFrljbr7ixx3mOlh95xtozWcI/s200/P1140207.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The highlight of the palace is the famous Wasserspiele (the beautiful garden with trick fountains). The gardens, lovely in themselves, sport many water features and the fun part is that all over the grounds are fountains and spouts that can be controlled by the guy with the key. Not all of these fountains and spouts are situated in a nice pond of water, though. They are set up to spray unsuspecting strollers and visitors as they walk around the grounds admiring the gardens and statuary.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the favorite fountains is a trick banquet table. When Markus would have his guest sit down to eat al fresco he could seriptitiously start his water and catch the banqueters off guard as the water sprayed over the table and even out of some seats. The guests would be drenched and have to go change clothes. Don's theory is that ole Mark would especially invite ladies to his summer house, get them wet and naked, and do what comes naturally. Really! the Archbishop? Don, what blasphemy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So.our guide took us around the gardens, key in hand, and managed to spray us all by the time the tour was over. We visited grottoes, and scenes of Greek mythology, and ponds with huge fish. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The highlight of the gardens is an engineering masterpiece, a miniature Austrian village, with hundreds of little people, twirling through the streets, shopping, chopping wood, waving out windows, and doing what people do every day. The entire sculpture is run by water power. It was much fun to just stand and look at each aspect of the village. The guide had fun too, twisting his key and spraying us with water as we watched the village.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the end of the tour we went into a grotto to see a special lighted fountain and as we exited the water sprayers were activated and we marched through the arched sprays to safety. By this time the kids in the group were having a great time, running through the water sprays, and Helmut, the guide, cooperated, adjusting the sprays up and down to catch the kids off guard as they ran up and down the pathway, hoping for more water.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We also toured the interior of the palace with it's richly decorated rooms, again with those huge tiled stoves. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We walked back to our car, which was parked just outside the palace walls, for free this time, and headed down the road. A very full day.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-36171785375945539192012-09-15T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-29T10:04:46.337-07:00SALZBURG<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">September 15, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Well, I have to say that Salzburg is a stunning city. I loved every moment of our visit.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1eIDkZx2bbVpH85AGuZKLC4wjGZJ5BQZQJY-wLqwZPgNtsrg80PCCXoOUz8Lr03LieJ37hV47-MAcjrynKc_4zuIrtrawWUSn6UTWbKddNKCoeK74nUA-4NYHa-Sgelas6JkxObQQiA/s1600/P1140065_stitch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1eIDkZx2bbVpH85AGuZKLC4wjGZJ5BQZQJY-wLqwZPgNtsrg80PCCXoOUz8Lr03LieJ37hV47-MAcjrynKc_4zuIrtrawWUSn6UTWbKddNKCoeK74nUA-4NYHa-Sgelas6JkxObQQiA/s640/P1140065_stitch.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The first day we went right to the parking area Don had programmed into Trexie and found a good spot and parked our car. It was a short walk to the tourist information center and we got a city map and purchased a Salzburg Card. Some websites recommended against the card, but it turned out to be a big money-saver for us. The card got us in free to most of the important points of interest and discounts at all of the other places and had more than paid for itself by the end of the first day.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2A5y54Md2GYCCL0vtuXauZIolJWqopEdDz_hftXCpQlE39ILoc2KkK8u0mIeEfw7VZ0kMXvnnFnmO2U1WO3a5c8ObuJQ1cF84bgBSK3_GOJqeGS8fwLvToRVBBUWL_wQWaP8sxW-a0k/s1600/2012-09-16+Salzburg-Hellbrun+Palace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2A5y54Md2GYCCL0vtuXauZIolJWqopEdDz_hftXCpQlE39ILoc2KkK8u0mIeEfw7VZ0kMXvnnFnmO2U1WO3a5c8ObuJQ1cF84bgBSK3_GOJqeGS8fwLvToRVBBUWL_wQWaP8sxW-a0k/s640/2012-09-16+Salzburg-Hellbrun+Palace.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Right away we walked from the tourist center to one of the famous castles of good ole Archbishop Wolf Detrich von Raitenau, the Residenz. This imposing building, which was built originally in the 13th century and modified, expanded and embellished over 500 years, was used not only as a residence for the Archbishop, but also to hold important meetings and audiences with statesmen and diplomats from around the world. It sits across the plaza from St Peter's church and abbey and also next to the famous Salzburg Dome. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We walked up the massive regal staircase, the first of 7329 staircases to walk up in the Salzburg area, as we listened to the audio guide. Today the Residenz is furnished with decor and furniture from the period of Archbishop Wolf Detrich, around the end of the 17th century. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We strolled through the state rooms of the Residenz and enjoyed the baroque plaster work, beautiful ceiling murals, gorgeous Venitian chandeliers, paintings of the gentlemen and ladies of the court, intricate clocks and period furniture. The walls were covered in precious tapestries, or rich ruby red damask, and one wall was covered in beautifully patterned Chinese paper depicting scenes of China and Chinese gardens, birds and plants. The original floors are still in use. They are intricately patterned parquet made of oak, mahogany, ash, and maple woods.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was particularly impressed with the enormous, beautifully tiled stoves used to heat the rooms. These monsters are 10-12 feet high and about the size of a small building. They usually stand in one corner of the room and some poor attendant had to huddle in back of the stove, feeding it fuel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After leaving the Residenz we walked across the square and into the famous Salzburg Dome to admire the ornate golden altar, ceiling murals and the dome itself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We strolled across the river and through the beautiful Mirabel Gardens, which were in full bloom and beautifully maintained. There we saw many bridal parties having their photos taken with the fountains and blossoms as a backdrop. We tried to keep out of their pictures, breaking our long tradition of accidentally walking right into the formal photo of bride, groom and family. Many years later they look at that photo and ask each other, who are those people? One of the brides was dressed in a snowy white flowing gown and the other was dressed in traditional garb.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After a bite of lunch we meandered through the cemetery where Mozart is buried and then on to the house where he was born. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Time to go home, so we bailed our car out of the convenient parking lot, 18 euros! and made our way out of the city and back into the countryside and home to our scenic valley.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-63867749104239158192012-09-14T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-30T17:58:39.468-07:00BRUCK-FUSCH OLDTIMER TRACTOR WM <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When we arrived in Bruck a few days ago we were informed how lucky we are to be here at this time of year because Bruck and the Grossglockner sponsor a very famous and well-attended Tractor Fest. Tractors come from miles around, and some even come from other countries, for the event. They all park in a big green field and talk tractors for a day or two and then they parade to the nearby town of Fusch and have a big party. Then there are events every day culminating in the tractor climb up the Grossglockner. </div>
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This all sounded like good fun, so we decided to go check out some of the tractors at the rally point near the supermarket. I can guarantee that none of the tractors participating in this event has ever seen a bale of hay or a cow patty. Well, Don says I am insulting the tractormen, as they have lovingly restored old tractors that <u>have</u> seen the other side of tractor life. But, just the same, they are shiny as new pennies, painted their original colors of bright blue, green, red, and all spiffed up. Some of the tractors have fancy enhancements to the engines, with 6 shiny pipes curling up from their sparkling clean engines, extra seats for admiring fans and tractor buddies, and luggage boxes on the back.</div>
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All of the tractor guys were standing around in their team jackets with special badges and yodeler’s hats covered with souvenir pins, talking shop and admiring each other’s equipment. Don joined in while I did some grocery shopping.</div>
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The tractor parade to Fusch was to pass near by our house around 2pm, so we went home and got our bikes and rode along the parade route. There is a very nice bike path that goes all the way to Fusch, so we rode along the route admiring the tractors as they passed by, the vivid green fields, the herds or cows grazing, and even a gaggle of geese, loose in the field, grazing just like a bunch of cows. </div>
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We rolled into Fusch enjoying the tunes of music combos playing folk music for the beer-guzzling crowds. Ooom-pahs and accordians and poles with bells and other horns and percussion instruments competed up and down the main street. Jolly locals and tractor men sat at tables and enjoyed their schnitzel and beer. It was a very good time.</div>
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As the sun began to drop down behind the snowy peaks we climbed on our bikes and rolled down the road to get home before it got too cold and dark.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-67390737656820670242012-09-13T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:59:12.649-07:00HALLEIN SALZ WELTEN, AUSTRIA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We are having some rainy weather, so we stayed in on the 12th to give Don a chance to recover from his cold and gather up some energy.</div>
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Another rainy day today so we decided to go to the town of Hallein to take the tour of the famous salt mine. We enjoyed the scenery on the way north to this suburb of Salzburg. As we rounded a corner we saw a majestic castle perched high upon a hill. It was so striking--white and imposing--we had to stop and take a photo of it. We decided we would investigate this castle in the town of Werfen, and maybe we could tour it.</div>
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We really didn’t know what to expect with this salt mine, and we didn’t really know the significance of the salt either, so the visit was really interesting and something new.</div>
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The salt mines here have been mined for 2500 years, first by the Celts in 600<u>BC</u>. The important period for the salt mines was during medieval times though. The salt mines are what Salzburg is named for and what made Salzburg a very wealthy city.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Prince-Archbishop Wolf Dietrich von Raitenau (1559-1617) was the leader in this region at the time. He exploited the mines using a method called wet mining. This method entailed mining the rock, soaking it in water to extract the salt and then distilling the water to extract the salt. Prince Wolf Dietrich became one of the wealthiest men in Europe with his proceeds from the salt mines. He built many beautiful baroque palaces and made Salzburg into a magnificent medieval city. </span> <br />
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When we began our visit in the salt mines we all donned white suits and then we straddled a kind of a bench on wheels and we were scooted along a track through the entrance to the mouth of the salt mines. We had a nice guide who gave us the story in both German and English and there was also a movie dramatization of Wolf Dietrich and his bumbling servant, Jacobus. After entering the mine and stopping in the first cavern we walked along the tracks for about half a kilometer and then mounted a wooden slide which moved us down into the depths of the cave. There were no handrails on either the wheeled bench device or the slide, and I wondered if I would slip off, but both rides were quite stable and we made it down the two slides with no problem.</div>
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After sliding down the wooden slides we were several hundred feet below ground. We learned all about the wet extraction method of mining, saw veins of pure salt crossing the ceiling of the caves, examined mining equipment from the middle ages and tasted the extremely salty brine at the tasting tap. At each stop along the tour our guide gave us interesting tidbits and the movie Archbishop and his servant took us back into the 16th century with their reenactments. Eventually we passed from Austria across the German border, all underground in the salt mine. We floated through a salt lake on a boat and peeked into the grotto to see the salt man--an ancient Celt who had been trapped, died and preserved in the salt for thousands of years. It was a terrific tour and we enjoyed it.</div>
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After leaving the mine and turning in our clean suits we explored the Celtic village which has been reconstructed on the hillside near the mine.</div>
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A very satisfying day of touring.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-24000185508742427312012-09-11T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:55:37.983-07:00GROSSGLOCKNER, AUSTRIA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Gerhard enthusiastically encouraged us to drive up the Grossglockner and so we thought we would. We planned an hour or so for the trip, but Gerhard assured us it would take all day. He also suggested that we get an early start to beat the crowds. Gosh! It is September. Isn’t this the shoulder season? Why would there be a crowd?</div>
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So, Tuesday morning off we went, bright and early, to visit the huge, snow-capped peak. Gerhard had given us a map with the most important stops circled, so we decided to follow his recommendation. </div>
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We drove up through the cute village of Fusch and on to the entrance to the famous national park--the Grossglockner. Yowza!! 30euro at the Kasse. Pretty pricey. Oh well, we are in for the ride now.</div>
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We started up the mountain, past the Piffkar, the Hochmais, and the Haus Alpine Naturschau to the Edelweiss-Spitze. Here we stopped and admired the magnificent panorama of 30 snowcapped mountain peaks rising to 3000 meters. </div>
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As we continued on up the mountain road we saw many, many cyclists, backpacks stuffed with warm clothing for the ride down. They were steadily pumping up the huge mountain, determined to reach the Fuscher Torl.</div>
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We stopped at several pullouts along the way, appreciating the story boards telling us about the geography, history, the terrain, the flora and the fauna. One stop was dedicated to the history of motorcycling on the mountain. There was very interesting information about the long history of cycle races up the Grossglockner and lots of photos. Again, the location offered stunning views.</div>
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Switchback after switchback, we climbed and climbed up the mountain. We finally arrived at the famous glacier--the Kaiser Franz Joseph Hohe. The visitors center had very interesting exhibits about the glacier and how it has been shrinking over the years, the animal life in the region, the motorcycle and auto races held over the the last 125 years. There was a nice museum of old vehicles used during these races--old tractors from 1894, old autos and motorcycles. </div>
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We hiked up a tunnel to higher and higher view points along the glacier. In the tunnel we learned some of the folklore about the mountain peaks and how they got their names. </div>
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In the end the visit to the Grossglockner did take us the whole day. And it was worth it. So much interesting history, information, beautiful scenery. A very worthwhile visit, and worth the 30 euros.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-52625509519735175822012-09-10T20:00:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:52:45.317-07:00BRUCK, AUSTRIA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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September 10, 2012</div>
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We followed Trexie’s directions right through Bruck to the correct house and as we pulled up and parked Gerhard was there to welcome us, and soon Karin and the two kids arrived by bicycle.</div>
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Our house is on a quiet street along the river, with a view of the snow-capped Grossglockner mountains. As with every house here in Austria, and most homes in European villages, the window boxes are bursting with petunias. Some homes have window boxes bursting with ivy geranium. Every time we come to Europe I vow to get some hanging planters with ivy geranium trailing out and flowing over the boxes, but I am never successful. I guess I have to pinch the plants to make them full and have lots of blossoms. My ivy geraniums just look straggly and unkempt. </div>
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We had a nice chat with Karin and Gerhard and they showed us around the house. Gerhard runs a business called <a href="http://www.mountainconcept.at/">Mountain Concepts</a>. He works in one part of the house and we have the rest. Apparently there is lots and lots of vacation home business in this area. Gerhard helps the vacation homeowners furnish their homes. He shows them various decorating options and orders, receives and arranges the furnishings in the homes. He does everything from arranging kitchen installations to putting the furniture in the rooms to supplying the placemats and flatware. He seems to be very busy and customers come every day to meet with him and select items for their vacation home. Sometimes he brings them into our space to show some furniture options, so we try to keep the house very tidy.</div>
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Our back yard has apple trees and the apples are getting ripe and falling, so I think I will try to make an apple pie. Over my wall of petunias flowing out of their planter boxes I can see the snow-capped mountain peaks of the Grossglockner. The scenery is beautiful.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-68766887739582529472012-09-09T00:09:00.000-07:002012-09-30T17:53:02.593-07:00THE DOLOMITES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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September 9, 2012</div>
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It was time to move on to our home exchange in Austria. We said goodby to the darling Valentina and packed up our bikes and cases and drove north out of Venice on our way to Cortina D'Ampezzo. Don wanted to go through this area because he had heard so many cyclists rave about the area. Before I move completely away from Valentina though, I want to strongly recommend her B&B if you are going to Venice. The rooms are spotless, comfortable and spacious. The hostess is charming and helpful. The price is right. The breakfasts are generous. Hobo B&B Via Giovanni XXIII 31, 30034 Borbiago di Mira, Venezia. info@bbhobo.it <a href="http://www.bbhobo.it/">www.bbhobo.it</a> cell 347 4266525</div>
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We followed the peage through Belluno and at Pieve di Cadore we turned west and started up into the mountains. All along the road from Pieve to Cortina was a very nice bike path. As we moved uphill into the Dolomite Mountains I began to gasp, and ooooh and aaaaah.</div>
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I must say the Dolomites were a huge and wonderful surprise for me. These are awesome mountains--ancient, rugged and craggy. Every turn on the road gave us another stunning view of grassy green meadows leading up to the treeline and on to the dramatic mountains dotted with little medieval villages and blue sky in the background. I couldn't get enough of the scenery.</div>
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We drove though Cortina, which was full of tourists, and on to our B&B for the night, Camere da Beppe. We wound around through the mountains, following Trexie's directions, and finally took the turn that should lead us to Danta di Cadore. Up and up we went, switchback after switchback, up some more and after 16! switchbacks we finally arrived in the little town of Danta di Cadore.</div>
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Now, where is our B&B. Weeeeeeellll, Don did not write down the address because he was sure he would spot it, and, of course, we drove through the town on the main road and we didn't spot it, not that I knew what I was looking for. I have to make sure to write down the address in the future. I don't need this at the end of a long day. We drove up and down the main street as the local boys, sitting on a front porch, watched us go by time and time again. (Don's defense: the navigator missed a turn and we came in the long way around.)dvm</div>
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Finally Don stopped at the bar and we were directed down the street, turn left, go down some more, and there it was. Don did recognize it once we got on the right street. So we parked and went up to the open front door. Rang the bell, knocked, called out Halloooo. No answer. We could walk right in and set up housekeeping, but being so polite, we sat on the front porch and waited. And waited, and waited. The view was stunning, so the wait was pretty easy.</div>
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Finally our host came sauntering down the street. I think he was one of the guys sitting on the front porch watching us and laughing as we drove up and down the road. He showed us our room and the breakfast room. We asked about where to get dinner and he gave us instructions to the pizza restaurant, recommending the pizza di funghi, and told us it closed at 7pm, so we had better hustle.</div>
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On to dinner of salad and pizza and then back to our room. No internet, so we read some of the informational brochures and off to bed.</div>
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In the morning we were awakened by a gorgeous sunrise over the mountains. We packed and dawdled until 8am when we could get breakfast. Mama was there to give us our coffee and rolls. A disappointing breakfast. The rolls were not fresh--just packaged, and there was nothing else. Finally mama brought out some yogurt too, but no fruit, jam, bread.</div>
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After breakfast we took our bags out to the car and went to find the archeological museum in the town. The brochure made it look quite interesting and we were intrigued to see what they had there because the brochure promised crocodile and bear skulls, fossils and petroglyphs. After asking directions and driving around the three streets in the town, we did find it, but it was not open. Oh well.</div>
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Away we drove, on through the beautiful Dolomites, ooohing and ahhhing all the way into Austria. As we drove we noticed more and more signs in both Italian and German and when we got to San Candido we turned east and drove into Austria and on to Lienz. There is a very nice bike path along this road as well. Lots of ski areas and resort towns along the way.</div>
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At Lienz we had a choice to go up through the Grossglockner or around through Marrei and up to Mittersil. We decided to skip the Grossglockner for this leg because it was many many switchbacks and Don is still not at full strength.</div>
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So, north we went up to Mittersil, and then we turned east again and drove the nice road through the valley to Bruck where our next home exchange is located. When we popped out of the mountains and into the river valley we could see the hillsides dotted with cute little Heidi houses, flower boxes bursting with colorful ivy geraniums and petunias.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-52229254544516451212012-09-08T03:24:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:45:24.086-07:00VENICE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">September 8, 2012</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRI0N5d1GGoZp5amjzERh0R0cxjsQ0HJ-2KDx4ps6QI-7OW5Ic3V3JJ488PHUXEmVL9Bc9PNrWrA65KUUEA5mBovUoXf_KCUv-R6inA_TQqfSipmKXJoUgz9G_AcA4VMbhwzyWlUqy60/s1600/P1130621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRI0N5d1GGoZp5amjzERh0R0cxjsQ0HJ-2KDx4ps6QI-7OW5Ic3V3JJ488PHUXEmVL9Bc9PNrWrA65KUUEA5mBovUoXf_KCUv-R6inA_TQqfSipmKXJoUgz9G_AcA4VMbhwzyWlUqy60/s200/P1130621.JPG" width="125" /></a><a href="http://www.bbhobo.it/wp-content/uploads/hobo16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="http://www.bbhobo.it/wp-content/uploads/hobo16.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning at breakfast <a href="http://www.bbhobo.it/en/gallery/">Valentina</a> shared lots of information about how to get to Venice, where to go in Venice and what to do in Venice. She had some money-saving tips too. We found her to be very engaging, helpful, cooperative and willing to do whatever we needed to make our stay a good one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Off to Venice, first by car to the port at Fusina, then by boat into the Canale di Fusina, docking at Zattere in the Dorsoduro section.</span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> As we pulled into the Canale we were dismayed to see four large cruise ships and one ENORMOUS cruise ship at port. Well, what did we expect. Of course there will be lots of tourists in Venice. Silly us, we hoped that everyone went home in September. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Once ashore we followed <a href="http://www.bbhobo.it/en/gallery/">Valentina's</a> recommended route, walking along the Canale di Guidecca to the point of the island and then back along the Grand Canal, past the Santa Maria di Salute church, the Palazzo Genovese and the Peggy Gugenheim Museum of Modern Art to the bridge and across to the San Marco section. We agreed not to go into any art museums and churches today, but just to soak up the atmosphere of Venice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Through the San Marco section, we wove through the narrow passages, up and over the small canals, past medieval buildings lapped by the ever-rising waters of the Adriatic Sea. We arrived at the Piazza di San Marco along with millions, well, thousands at least, of those rosy Germans. We considered the Archeological museum, strolled past the huge Basilica di San Marco, and looked at the loooong line to get into the Palazzo Ducale. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">More ups and downs over canals, enjoying the beautifully outfitted gondolas and their gondoliers. More ins and outs through narrow passages and on to the famous Ponte di Rialto. Then we wove through tourist shops offering beautiful and unique masks, tourist T shirts, handbags, scarves, postcards, and all sorts of tourist items. It was quite warm, so we decided to stop for a beverage from one of the street vendors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On our way back to the boat we passed through the fancy shopping area with many famous Italian designers represented. Gucci, Ferragamo, Nina Ricci, Armani, Fendi, Prada, Schiaparelli, Versace. They were all there<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">, with emaciated mannequins modeling their offerings. Just get out your euros and go on a spree.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">By the time we got back to the boat dock it was almost 4:30 and we were both wiped out. We caught the boat back to Fusina and were glad to get back to our nice room for a rest.</span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-33630461654467627072012-09-07T10:48:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:42:51.579-07:00LAKE GARDA CIRCUIT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">September 7, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Up in the morning to breakfast one last time on our lovely deck, then we packed and cleaned house and reversed our utility treasure hunt process. Time to leave Piovere and travel on to Venice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we left Piovere we decided to take the lake road to the north end and around the lake along the east side. There are many, many tunnels through the steep cliffs that drop down sharply into the lake. This is the most efficient way to go around the lakeshore. Otherwise it is up and down and up and down the river canyons, from village to village, for miles and miles.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, we dropped down to the main lake road and began our trek, along the lake, then through the cliff via tunnel, and out again for a glimpse of blue, and back into another tunnel. Trexie was complaining about lost satellites as we drove through miles of darkness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we came out of the tunnels we were in the very touristic town of Riva di Garda. Hundreds and hundreds of sunburned Germans were walking along the sidewalks, darting across the street, popping into shops, basking on the beaches, dipping into the lake. It was very crowded, even into September, and Don had to be extra careful not to adorn our little Clio with a new hood ornament--a rosy red German tourist. As we left Riva and continued along the lakeside we enjoyed the pretty scenes of beaches and lake, mountains, sailboarders, kiteboarders, sailboats, pleasure craft of every kind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We stopped at a lakeside cafe, Taverna del Capitano, in Porto di Brenzone for a nice lunch and then continued on to the town of Bussolengo, where we turned east and headed for the peage to Venice. We sped past <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Verona and Vicenza and Padua, agreeing to return to these towns another trip. Don is getting a cold and his energy level is flagging.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Around 4:30 we got off the peage and started looking for our lodging, the <a href="http://www.bbhobo.it/">Hobo B&B</a>. As usual, we did not write down an address, so we just had to wing it. Don had studied the listing on Airb&b and felt that he could find it by driving along the main street, This made me a bit impatient and grumpy.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1quTNppaa-pGpV5cxSMsbv2h4G5QnpuNfj4DCr1MCF9IdfDQmNCEx9CiDAHUzwvAPUEDXPIRhLxU8a35lJt4yYYBbXFhgkCo6OyR4KV4p_QYpedDtMKUBpOXYslxf-dy8ltIAwAE1gs/s1600/P1130460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="108" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1quTNppaa-pGpV5cxSMsbv2h4G5QnpuNfj4DCr1MCF9IdfDQmNCEx9CiDAHUzwvAPUEDXPIRhLxU8a35lJt4yYYBbXFhgkCo6OyR4KV4p_QYpedDtMKUBpOXYslxf-dy8ltIAwAE1gs/s200/P1130460.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, he DID!!! Kudos to Don. And we were greeted by our very charming and friendly hostess, Valentina, and she showed us to our room, a spacious, comfortable accommodation with a big bed and a nice en suite bathroom. Exhausted, Don flopped down and took a nap.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Later we went out for a quick dinner and back home to bed again.</span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-75101094804192951082012-09-05T09:29:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:40:43.904-07:00A DISSERTATION ON EUROPEAN MILK BOXES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJ9I9wpFPuFN5S5NDJ6YaEJE64AGWYPX-Ywhnv60S4C7xRmEuVXTKNzSWIMWewdInb46afwIcVcrmsvEvWSzXmju3ojnd22vOW9PRtTz5kUJ5JmKm6VxVPP0YTK6rfRfznmt9DDKlf4Y/s1600/P1130419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJ9I9wpFPuFN5S5NDJ6YaEJE64AGWYPX-Ywhnv60S4C7xRmEuVXTKNzSWIMWewdInb46afwIcVcrmsvEvWSzXmju3ojnd22vOW9PRtTz5kUJ5JmKm6VxVPP0YTK6rfRfznmt9DDKlf4Y/s320/P1130419.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">By Don Myrah<br /><br />I've been traveling in Europe for the past 25 years now, and have yet to learn the secret to opening these one liter cardboard milk boxes without spilling the milk. Somehow I missed the Rick Steves PBS special on this topic. <br /><br />These boxes are quite an ingenious idea because as long as you keep them sealed you don't ever need to refrigerate them. I don't know how long the milk will last in that state, probably until the next Ice Age or all the glaciers melt. It's a great idea, and I know that there must be a way to open the carton without spurting milk out the spout, since they have used these boxes for years and no European seems to have a problem.<br /><br />Here is my problem: they fill the milk box so there is zero airspace, and so that if one makes any slight cut, tear or rip, milk will leak out down the side of the carton. The side of the carton then gets wet and slippery, and of course one must squeeze the carton tighter to keep a firm grip on it. This causes the milk to erupt right out of the mouth of the carton, all over the counter and floor. Mon dieu! Mamma mia! Achtung!<br /><br />Some of the methods I've tried are: <br /><br />1. Using a sharp knife, I cut precisely on the little dotted lines printed on the carton. As soon as I puncture the cardboard the milk will spurt out into my eye. <br /><br />2. Sometimes I squeeze the carton so I can snip off the corner with a pair of scissors, again following dotted line. With this technique I lose good a 2 ounces, oh I guess I should say centiliters. <br /><br />3. And in sheer desperation I sometimes stab it with a pencil. <br /><br />All of these techniques are guaranteed to spill milk. What is it they say, don't cry over spilt milk. Oh that's so cliché. I'm sorry.<br /><br />Geralynn just ignores the printed lines (so unlike her!) and cuts straight across the flap. With this method she can actually carry the open milk carton to me at the table and then, when I pick it up to pour, I must squeeze the straight edge to make a little spout and here comes the milk squishing out all over my fingers again.<br /><br />The next tourist information office I go to I’m going to inquire if they can recommend a secret underground resistance group that teaches a class in the correct method of opening European milk cartons. Of course, all is lost if the ufficio informazioni senorigna does not speak English. You know, she and the Resistance leader, in order for me to fully understand the lesson, would need to teach this class in Italian, with a German accent and a little French touch to make it perfectly clear to me. I, myself, have been accused of affecting an accent when speaking English in a foreign country. Can you believe that!?<br /><br />I guess the ultimate answer is to just stop drinking milk in Europe.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-58135536754165005032012-09-05T08:52:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:38:32.788-07:00LAZY, HAZY DAYS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sept. 5, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Once breakfast and our wasp project was underway it was time to plan our activity for the day.</span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We thought about a bike ride, but it is very mountainous and the flat route along the lake is too heavily traveled by tourists in cars. So, no bike ride today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Across the valley to the north we can see another village and a pretty church out on the point overlooking the lake. We decided to take a drive over there to visit the church, the Sanctuary of Montecastellano, a well-known monastery and pilgrimage stop. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Although Trexie took us up the mountain on a narrow back road of switchbacks and potholes we decided to go back down the hill through the town. Steep, steep, steep and narrow, we followed the cobblestoned road weaving through the little, ancient town, past the church, almost scraping the corner of the building with our rear-view mirror. Out the downhill side of the town and into a leafy, green canyon, over the stream and up, up, up the north side of the canyon, through the town of Gardola and on up the road. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At the top of the road is the capella. We parked the car and took the hike up to the top, stopping at small grottos along the route to decipher the frescos, each which tells one of the many famous events in the life of Jesus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At the top of the paved route on a rock overlooking the lake, and with a magnificent view, sits the Sanctuary of Montecastellano. It is one of
the most holy and spiritual places of Garda, famous for its history and
beauty. For centuries it has been a place of pilgrimage and devotion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The history of the Sanctuary of Montecastello, perched on a overhanging
rock(700 meters high) on Lake Garda, is linked to the memory of a
"Star". In the thirteenth century, during a violent battle between
Brescia’s and Trento’s people, a light beam emerged from the castle, a
site of a small temple dedicated to Mary, and paralyzed Trento’s people,
allowing those from Brescia to win the battle. The inhabitants of
Tignale witnessed Mary's presence on the mountain in the form of a
bright Star, so the name of this Madonna is "Madonna della
Stella." </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryo4PGiyUGdDvaF6ZOtGlmedqwb37Lb-sAEK8Fr9jILR40Gc5M41prJ5HByiOFPG9x5qe3DbrpJ39YUdmPZ4a3rV7IfIZrr-YH6Fer6HmPyM498M6z8eg0NSQxcP7OzTD84T7jXeOMdw/s1600/P1130390_stitch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryo4PGiyUGdDvaF6ZOtGlmedqwb37Lb-sAEK8Fr9jILR40Gc5M41prJ5HByiOFPG9x5qe3DbrpJ39YUdmPZ4a3rV7IfIZrr-YH6Fer6HmPyM498M6z8eg0NSQxcP7OzTD84T7jXeOMdw/s320/P1130390_stitch.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Inside the Church is a gilded wood major altar and a glass window,
behind which we see the miraculous image of Madonna painted by an unknown 14th century artist, picturing Mary kneeling in a suppliant and humble
attitude while being crowned by Christ. The fresco is surrounded by four
medallions in Palma copper, representing the Presentation in the
Temple, The Annunciation, the Birth of Jesus, the visit of the three
Wise Men. The famous star is represented in the apex of the narthex dome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The rock that the church sits upon juts out dramatically over the lake, descending straight down 700 meters. The views are especially stunning in this region of stunning views.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The trail actually continues up the mountain to the top of Monte Cas, but we decided to go down the hill and try to find some internet access as we have not been able to get online in Piovere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We did find the bar, which also offers interne,t and bought a couple of beers while we arranged a place to stay near Venice, our next destination.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Back to our comfy house in Piovere, we had a bite to eat and I, again, retreated to my own sanctuary on the deck and watched the sailboats and kiteboarders play while I listened to my story and played Monopoly and Don downloaded his photos and played with his computer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The yellowjacket count is now 12.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The next morning the air was quite hazy and the weather was cool. We decided to just hang out at the house and enjoy the serenity. Our house is quite comfortable with a good bed, a little, well-equipped kitchen and a nice sitting room. There is also a small kids room with a bunk/trundle bed to sleep 3 kids. But, for me, the star of the property is the spacious deck overlooking the lake and a small garden.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We lazed and lolled our day away, discussing our plans for visiting Venice and napping and restoring ourselves. There are lots of good hikes to do, and some mountain biking trails, and beaches at the lake, and restaurants and tourist shopping to do, but for us, just hanging out at the house was great.</span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-57114851385803950452012-09-04T04:50:00.000-07:002012-09-12T05:06:59.300-07:00WASP OLYMPICS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Teaching Wasps the art of synchronized swimming.<br />Or <br />Way too much time on our hands! <br />Or <br />Coaching Wasps & Yellowjackets on the backstroke. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The next morning we got up
after a very comfortable sleep, made our coffee and again went to the
deck for breakfast. </span>We were sitting there on the patio, looking out over Lago di Garda as we sipped our coffee and read the guestbook comments about the Aker’s vacation home. One of the visitors from Ireland had several issues to report, including an awful lot say about the wasps. These Italian wasps must be related to our American yellowjackets from Mt. Hermon because they do the same things, and they can be very annoying. <br /><br />This morning we set out our breakfast of orange juice and pain perdu (French Toast to Americans) and here came the wasps, humming and buzzing and dipping into our orange juice. Now, we are not the type of people who are prone to whining and complaining. We, on the other hand, look upon this as a challenge. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A dear friend of ours taught us how to make a yellowjacket trap using an old plastic soda bottle partially filled with soapy water and narrow slits cut in the sides and a piece of wire coat hanger hooked in the mouth of the bottle. A piece of bacon is then impaled on the end of the coat hanger and placed just above the soapy water. The theory is the yellowjacket flies in through the slit, lands on the bacon that's hanging from the hanger, and begins to gorge itself on the meat. When they have had their fill and are ready to leave, they fly a little bit down and backwards in order to get airborne. If you have your liquid close enough to the bacon their wings touch the liquid and they become unable to fly out through the narrow slit. Eureka!! Voila!! That yellowjacket is in the liquid and can no longer escape the soda bottle. <br /><br />We decided to carry this one step farther. We are basically in the R&D phase here this morning. We are trying two trap styles. One is the Connie soda bottle approach using an orange juice carton and a piece of salami on a wooden kebab skewer and the other is a simple drinking glass half-filled with orange juice. As soon as the yellowjacket flies down into the juice I place something over the top of the glass and trap the critter. However this requires a great deal of time and focus, and one must maintain one's trapping position for hours. Consequently it just doesn't allow much time for sightseeing. Alternatively you can hire a local child for 890,000 lire an hour (10 cents). <br /><br />Geralynn is sitting here laughing at me. She's trying to correct my English pronunciation as I am dictating this report to my computer, and I'm having a difficult time because I'm here in Italy, but I am still thinking in French, and today I am speaking with a bit of the Irish accent. When I am in Ireland I usually speak with a German accent. I don't know why, it just comes to me that way. Maybe because everyone else is speaking with an accent and I am thinking with an accent too. Anyway, my poor computer program is a bit confused. Needless to say, I basically have no foreign language skills, but I do <u>great</u> sign language.<br /><br />At this point in our research the juice box with the slits in the side and the tasty piece of salami suspended above the juice has not had any customers. But, in the meantime, using the good old manual method and drinking glass, I'm still scoring lots of new backstroke students--6 so far. My theory is yellowjackets have relatively small hives they send out scouts to discover things to eat, generally in groups of two or three, and when they don't return the Queen eventually sends more scouts, and I think it's really to see if the first scout party is goofing off. OOps! here comes another customer right now, so I have to stop writing and concentrate on my actions. <br /><br />C'mon….c'mon….a little further into the glass....Got him!! <br /><br /><br /><br />Day two of our R&D project:<br /><br />Well, the orange juice carton is a total failure. After careful reflection we realized we needed soapy water, not orange juice, and perhaps smaller slits in the sides. And I'm beginning to think the distance between the salami and the liquid is critical, and maybe the clear container tricks the yellowjackets into thinking there is clear sky ahead. Unfortunately I can't remember what the salami-liquid distance is. <br /><br />However, the good old tried-and-true orange juice in the drinking glass works great. By the end of the day I had 12 Wasps and one fly. I think the Italian wasps are much smarter than our Mt. Hermon yellowjackets. They go in and out of the orange juice carton at will and laugh at us as they take off. <br /><br />If you've gotten this far reading this you obviously have way too much time in your hands too. It sometimes amazes me what we do for entertainment. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-89336461767429031412012-09-04T04:36:00.000-07:002012-10-01T18:13:49.643-07:00KLAUS AND EVELYN'S TREASURE HUNT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">SEPTEMBER 4, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When we arrived at the Aker Vacation Home in Piovere there were many instructions to follow. Klaus and Evelyn are very seasoned home exchangers and they know the importance of giving good instructions. We, also, are seasoned exchangers and we think we are pretty smart about finding hidden keys and such. Don, being a graphic person, never read the instructions Evelyn emailed us. He just printed them out, thinking that if he needed to read the instructions, he would. Typical male! Who needs to read instructions? So, here we were, arguing about which tree the instructions said to park under. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After selecting a tree to park near, we had to find the correct unit, #7. There were lots of photos with the instructions, but being doofus Americanos, it took us a while to find Corpo A, the first clue. Then, the decision was, where to go from there--straight ahead, down the stairs, to the left, to the right???? We didn’t want to invade anyone’s private space.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We both wandered around and finally Don found it! Eureka! But, what about the key??? Not under the mat, under the flower pot, on the door frame. Oops, we forgot to print out the page about how to find the key. So we called Evelyn, who reminded us that they got a lockbox like we used to have in Truckee. Go around the unit to the deck, far over in the right corner, behind the shutter, there is the lockbox. She gave us the code and we were able to move on to the next step in the treasure hunt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the lockbox is a key to a secret closet under the stairs, the Cantina. Which stairs??? There are twenty sets of stairs sprinkled around the complex. So, we resorted to the map included with the instructions, which was very helpful in selecting the location of the secret closet. Use the lockboxed key to get inside the Cantina. Wait! where are the dancing girls, how about a beer, and nachos too. No, no, this is a storage closet Cantina. Now that you are in, turn right, the key to the house is in a ziplock bag, in the mop bucket, under a rag. Ok, got that. And, it opened the front door. Yahoo!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now it was time to turn on the utilities. First the water. At the end of the second flight of stairs--what??? Which second set, there are so many to choose from--turn to the right. Under the stairs is a little red door. It is a little tough to open. Ok, got it. Light switch is on the wall to the right. It is pretty tight and Don can’t fit into the space. Ok, in I go, my eyesight is bad, can’t read a thing in the dim light. Don sneers and squeezes himself into the space, using the flashlight feature of his cellphone, he calls out the reading, turns the knob.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Next, the electricity. The meter is in the cabinet on the wall behind the blue door. Which blue door, where is a blue door??? Oh, look! Here is a white door with a blue frame. This is it! The meter is the farthest left in the middle row. Press the button until it displays A3. Don won’t listen to the full instruction, so he is pressing and pressing and different numbers come up, and flash by so fast he can’t read them. Finally he calls out the readings while I dutifully record the numbers. But, you don’t turn the electricity on here, you turn it on at the meter near the kids room inside the house. OK.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Time for the butane gas. Down the stairs to the parking lot. Oh! How to choose which stairs from so many choices. Down we go, the residents in Unit 2 looking askance as we go by, vociferously discussing stair choices. In the parking lot we turn right and find the second set of meters. The meter is clearly labeled with the Aker name--that is what the instructions say. Nope! No label, but we figure it out. Turn yellow valve, left side of round gray pod, brass knob, push several times. Ok, now we are done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">No. There is more. Back in the house, two yellow valves, one for the stove and one for the heater. Ok, got those handled. Whew!! Time for a glass of wine.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoZ48jVpihXDC3eBt7mMU92IrmKSJeSCxPQoHhai90pFkWsOnLuD8foJ07Ct-o7H7c-s4zIxJ2cF56nY_r2J7FS9qXOuc4y1UB-X_XtHCCv9c3ic4eGDP978NDNpA0Q2lln-YSb0hXTw/s1600/P1130411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoZ48jVpihXDC3eBt7mMU92IrmKSJeSCxPQoHhai90pFkWsOnLuD8foJ07Ct-o7H7c-s4zIxJ2cF56nY_r2J7FS9qXOuc4y1UB-X_XtHCCv9c3ic4eGDP978NDNpA0Q2lln-YSb0hXTw/s640/P1130411.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Once we got
the drive done, the house found, keys located, utilities all turned on
and our luggage unloaded we sat down for a rest and to enjoy the view.
The deck off the living room overlooks the beautiful Lake Garda and
Monte Baldo. The setting is very placid and serene, with little
sailboats floating atop the blue lake and the reflection of the grand
mountains in the glassy lake surface. We just sat there, on the deck,
glass of wine in hand, and soaked in the serenity as the sun lowered
behind the mountains. After awhile it began to get cool and cloudy. I
had to get up and make some dinner, Don did a bit of work with his
photos and the computer, and it was off to bed.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-88336967178572104232012-09-04T04:19:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:28:55.894-07:00OFF TO LAGO DI GARDA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sept 4-6, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The next morning we met our Brit friends again at breakfast and talked about home exchanging, the part of England they come from and various travels we all have enjoyed. We said our goodbyes, packed up and headed down the hill and along our route to our next destination, the Aker’s vacation home at Lago di Garda.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6tBdkTH0EsxxyGn8apk0NdtWcCiXhnTYBIo7CkAHjhYSxew1sR1bICW2OyDn_vHJRmI75bq9PptIG4YqmrXJGk6E3w-GkibiPhclku3noxFI_mZJ_yIz3dLfgJ3Og5m-NZe1MTdXFNU/s1600/P1130289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6tBdkTH0EsxxyGn8apk0NdtWcCiXhnTYBIo7CkAHjhYSxew1sR1bICW2OyDn_vHJRmI75bq9PptIG4YqmrXJGk6E3w-GkibiPhclku3noxFI_mZJ_yIz3dLfgJ3Og5m-NZe1MTdXFNU/s320/P1130289.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Coming out of the mountains, we made a stop in Torino to visit the Automobile Museum. Spent some time wandering around the industrial section of town after we missed a turn and got lost, and finally found the museum. We parked alongside several other cars in a dirt lot, and got scammed by some guy demanding to be paid for “helping” us. He kept hectoring us until Don gave him a 2 euro coin and he went away. Up the stairs to the museum entrance, we noted the hours of operation--daily from 10 am to 5pm. So we tried to pull open the door--locked and dark. It was about noon, so well within the hours, but no one was home. Back to the car. The parking helper was hiding behind another car in the lot, hoping to be undiscovered in our displeasure, but Don sought him out and read him the riot act before we got back into our car and drove away, scammed and dissatisfied with the whole experience.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Back on the road, we drove and drove and drove, stopping for lunch at a roadside café. Don was getting tired, but I am not signed up to drive, so he had to keep going. Once in awhile we stopped in a rest area so he could walk around the car and revive a bit.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWVUMxu1Oh-PX3GvX7FugMMdeUeV5Z_vWgTfRE94kJed1FURlNjVKH2xlurQXXPE3lfzUhJH3lNYCtzsABtqFRe65N7QSvRANTVR-0wwT4Rctfp5hfwlKYHMO2ehJBKM3OPqPU7jJmyM/s1600/P1130293_stitch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWVUMxu1Oh-PX3GvX7FugMMdeUeV5Z_vWgTfRE94kJed1FURlNjVKH2xlurQXXPE3lfzUhJH3lNYCtzsABtqFRe65N7QSvRANTVR-0wwT4Rctfp5hfwlKYHMO2ehJBKM3OPqPU7jJmyM/s640/P1130293_stitch.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Finally we turned off the peage and drove north into the Lago region of Italy. It is still a busy season here and wow! Plenty of tourists driving along the lakeside road. We made our way along the west side of the lake and finally turned off into the Tignale region. Trexie took us up and up, switchback after switchback and finally we found Piovere.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjslCkNQf26q0alAfld-8IWwEYaQav7U8nyVdOdo9b6685iSJv2T9R6DJaSDxncHXWbdUC4tFCTMrVTGXifSIry_HObVXPlCm6VTIpeUekMXQ9-6r_4_Q-SxtyQWeo3Dg1oBgeeM7uvXQM/s1600/P1130298_stitch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjslCkNQf26q0alAfld-8IWwEYaQav7U8nyVdOdo9b6685iSJv2T9R6DJaSDxncHXWbdUC4tFCTMrVTGXifSIry_HObVXPlCm6VTIpeUekMXQ9-6r_4_Q-SxtyQWeo3Dg1oBgeeM7uvXQM/s640/P1130298_stitch.JPG" width="585" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-fFo4Pk237I7wF4CKzFIlv7GmFx2Kgaxh6Twt1jt_V_97PIPTZ1ikheHGKAdP1m-G0SCsHvYEsS3-q_QnXDFf0-at_OtCyWrqnijes5exa4SmKJfuaJxyo_bOjMNcf4NuEYM-AxLYZc/s1600/P1130372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-fFo4Pk237I7wF4CKzFIlv7GmFx2Kgaxh6Twt1jt_V_97PIPTZ1ikheHGKAdP1m-G0SCsHvYEsS3-q_QnXDFf0-at_OtCyWrqnijes5exa4SmKJfuaJxyo_bOjMNcf4NuEYM-AxLYZc/s400/P1130372.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Along the narrow, dusty and rutted lanes we drove, taking the turns prescribed by Trexie and finally she declared that we were there. Hmmmm. There is a big tower to the right, a group of buildings to the left. Trexie says our destination is on the right, but that does not look right. Where are we, where do we want to be?</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-56781259443449965322012-09-03T04:14:00.000-07:002012-09-12T04:35:46.460-07:00BELLA BAITA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzO8y8opHX12QvD4F-dFOJ9sjnpZwO964Z1A4SgXIIYzZlAkPWuZ67dOSgHlU6AqWIpgIU_MITp_oDs6V90U72MIVviXoUhdhkMeGiMcyRNqx9Z8VvRkruwE6B2P_bo1VwM0VVFzvUC0Y/s1600/2012-09-01+Goodby+new+friends,+hello+old+friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzO8y8opHX12QvD4F-dFOJ9sjnpZwO964Z1A4SgXIIYzZlAkPWuZ67dOSgHlU6AqWIpgIU_MITp_oDs6V90U72MIVviXoUhdhkMeGiMcyRNqx9Z8VvRkruwE6B2P_bo1VwM0VVFzvUC0Y/s200/2012-09-01+Goodby+new+friends,+hello+old+friends.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">September 3, 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Leaving Eybens and Grenoble behind, we headed out towards the famous Alps d‘‘Huez. We traveled up the mountainous road along the river, cheering on the many cyclists who were on there pilgrimage to cycling Mecca. Somehow we missed the turnoff to do the full Tour de France route, but by the time we figured that out we were too far along, so we continued on over the rugged mountains and into Italy. Soon I was out of map and we were following only Trexie, our GPS. I felt a little lost and out of control without my paper map.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8Z0F4lUGvTw8Lwda3lZCWcpekndf94lQnp5S-qZ-sfO9iR1WD562qRBu9GwbRyxwCy01uv40kGtz8XFJQT-0d9EAjSXrdHjxXYWV-TsF1GZ6b1CuvQB2Pc95rW8015SsVPEDVL6r4jc/s1600/P1130281_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8Z0F4lUGvTw8Lwda3lZCWcpekndf94lQnp5S-qZ-sfO9iR1WD562qRBu9GwbRyxwCy01uv40kGtz8XFJQT-0d9EAjSXrdHjxXYWV-TsF1GZ6b1CuvQB2Pc95rW8015SsVPEDVL6r4jc/s640/P1130281_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At the village of Villa Perosa we turned up the mountain and took the long, steep and winding narrow road up and up to our B&B for the night--Bella Baita. As we drove up and up we occasionally saw encouraging signs that we were on the right route and Bella Baita was ahead. Finally we arrived and were reassured to see a big sign that said Benvenuto, Bella Baita.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Our B&B is owned by Fabrizio and his American wife, Marla. They were off with a group of Brits who were staying there, tasting the local cheeses and wines. We were warmly welcomed by Mama Elge who showed us our room while rattling off her welcome speech in Italian a mile a minute. We settled in and Don went into the salon to download his photos and go online. As I was leaving our room to join him, Mama caught me and invited me to come up to her apartments for coffee</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_SIa16wE68MSRBXkS4O9J4__EtrVb9w63NXQkdUMGdAvRC4LZ-lSlxeyjASL3Z5rz5gzWVnF-SwEc4Ihkh7NN9jOWN0pTJ6eIbiTvMVm_fw8cwgzFj87BboVTl4CPga-LO-xWD58dHE/s1600/2012-09-04+Bella+Baita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_SIa16wE68MSRBXkS4O9J4__EtrVb9w63NXQkdUMGdAvRC4LZ-lSlxeyjASL3Z5rz5gzWVnF-SwEc4Ihkh7NN9jOWN0pTJ6eIbiTvMVm_fw8cwgzFj87BboVTl4CPga-LO-xWD58dHE/s320/2012-09-04+Bella+Baita.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mama and I had a long chat about many subjects--her family history in this location, our sons, the coffee, the beauty of the mountains and the view, my grandchildren--I showed her the photos on my calendar. Surprisingly, I understood much of what she said and we had a good conversation. Finally I scusied myself and went down to check with Don.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was time for us to go to the next village to join our hosts and the Brits for a dinner of local products. We got to the village and there was no sign of a restaurant, but we parked next to the Bella Baita van and as we got out of the car, here came Fabrizio sashaying down the cobblestones, singing a welcome to us. He was followed by the group of Brits, who looked a little befuddled and lost because they, also, were not sure where we were going.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2Y41BXE107JQzHMFXcvcLTY1LOz2W3TwEjZZrOGSxCreccGTpbkewUNQ8emeOhyphenhyphenpss4nYRJXyo12v5MDyumlZp6K1sStTGnFgvRd14T7-CqscJq4Bc7wRCrG05YhYcr0deneOhDp67k/s1600/2012-09-03+La+Pacette-Trattoria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2Y41BXE107JQzHMFXcvcLTY1LOz2W3TwEjZZrOGSxCreccGTpbkewUNQ8emeOhyphenhyphenpss4nYRJXyo12v5MDyumlZp6K1sStTGnFgvRd14T7-CqscJq4Bc7wRCrG05YhYcr0deneOhDp67k/s320/2012-09-03+La+Pacette-Trattoria.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Around the corner, down an alley, turn right, through a secret passage into the heart of the medieval village, and here we were at the restaurant. We were welcomed in by a sweet petite Italian signorina, and we all sat down and introduced ourselves. Marla joined us as well. Our co-diners for the night were very nice people and we enjoyed chatting with them through the antipasto, the wild game, the veg, the cheese and the dessert. There was plenty of wine to go around and we all enjoyed our meal and our company.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now it was dark as pitch and time to go home. Because it was just the two of us, Don and I got a head start and we made our way along the highway and up the narrow, winding road back to Bella Baita and off to bed, stuffed and satisfied.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://bellabaitaview.blogspot.com/">bellabaitaview.blogspot.com</a> </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-3761394020132986222012-09-02T17:07:00.000-07:002012-09-30T18:00:11.887-07:00FAMILLE FLATOT-LE BOHEC<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQk7gobEio4jTRC4lO2CHagzzjxmSCJ0qMU16b2AJj2mj61GvJb0WJUipEVtc8LAq5_OszRCSNpy9gtL2yeZANmDOzrP1JkivY3h3RX1Kt4ogog_56qF3CzJgcDqYD3JAZuK_P2WkRx6v/s1600/P1130255.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQk7gobEio4jTRC4lO2CHagzzjxmSCJ0qMU16b2AJj2mj61GvJb0WJUipEVtc8LAq5_OszRCSNpy9gtL2yeZANmDOzrP1JkivY3h3RX1Kt4ogog_56qF3CzJgcDqYD3JAZuK_P2WkRx6v/s400/P1130255.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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When we arrived in Eybens, a suburb of Grenoble, we were warmly welcomed
by our friends of many years, Jose and Marielle Flatot-LeBohec, and
their two sons, Victor and Charles. It was so good to see them again. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLofGunu2ISha-CtnmZxH1049ExxBXtGROutw4vCJmbsSsAWhsyPdhTpG0EeNNPjyfEdyREzCFRixgcBhz6XhrOydaJw_tMNo8Y2w1KlQYlrrAxrXsDtxgeELF1ILoL4IFLF8Gey8niY8C/s1600/2012-09-002.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLofGunu2ISha-CtnmZxH1049ExxBXtGROutw4vCJmbsSsAWhsyPdhTpG0EeNNPjyfEdyREzCFRixgcBhz6XhrOydaJw_tMNo8Y2w1KlQYlrrAxrXsDtxgeELF1ILoL4IFLF8Gey8niY8C/s640/2012-09-002.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Jose and Marielle look and seem just the same as they were 23 years ago,
and the boys, who were only a twinkle in mom and dad’s eye when we met,
have grown into handsome, personable young men and are going to
university. Both guys are business majors, Charles in Lille and Victor
in Marseilles. Next year, as part of their instructional course, they
each must find a job in a foreign country where French is not the
primary language, and work for 6 months. So I told them to send me
their resumes and I would ask around Silicon Valley to see if there
might be an opportunity for them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHDgXKzKjvxOUxt2ruGxnFGMzTYvOMYbUzgQZU_mE37inE9n6ZcxhxC6XYmJmG0i3LMmtZq31xyi2Ss9T_Kx56BllbdvgkaqULGDwwCDahcy2C1Uwfd_Vtb6dthXJNH97CCiNfjGOAqf1/s1600/P1130237_stitch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHDgXKzKjvxOUxt2ruGxnFGMzTYvOMYbUzgQZU_mE37inE9n6ZcxhxC6XYmJmG0i3LMmtZq31xyi2Ss9T_Kx56BllbdvgkaqULGDwwCDahcy2C1Uwfd_Vtb6dthXJNH97CCiNfjGOAqf1/s640/P1130237_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Marielle gave us a delicious dinner while we talked and talked and
caught up on the last several years. We talked about the boy’s school
courses, the regions of France they like, the American Presidential
Campaign, Barack Obama’s performance, politics in general, the European
Union, cars and bicycles. By ten o’clock I was dragging, and so we
decided to call it a night and went up the stairs to our room for the
stay. Thank you to Victor, who gave up his room for us.</div>
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The next morning we got up and had our French breakfast while we resumed
our conversations. Later we went into Grenoble to visit the art
museum, which offers free entry the first Sunday of every month. The
selection of art at the museum is very nice, with the selections
arranged chronologically, finishing with the modern art.</div>
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That night we had salmon for dinner and yummy, dark, dense chocolate
cake with rich cream for dessert. More talking, and off to bed.</div>
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Monday morning we packed up and headed down the road for Italy.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-58115767509503928512012-08-31T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-30T18:01:57.981-07:00GOODBY NEW FRIENDS, HELLO OLD FRIEND <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://france2012august.blogspot.com/">France 2012</a>
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August 31, 2012 </div>
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Our last day in St Point was rainy and cold. We decided to go out to
lunch. We first went to the Pierre Sauvage near Bourgvilain, a
restaurant our hosts recommended, but they had a busload coming and
could not accept other customers, so we headed into Macon to look for
the other suggested restaurant. We thought we could go right to it, but
no luck, so we went into a busy cafe and had a <u>huge</u> lunch of steak, fries and salad. The enormous platter was overflowing with food, so we were stuffed when we paid up and left.</div>
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That afternoon we spent our time doing the laundry, cleaning the house
and packing for our trip to Geneva and on to Grenoble. The house
cleaner came late in the day and spent a lot of time on the floors, but I
don't think she cleaned the bathrooms or dusted any surfaces, window
sills, or tables, so we cleaned everything up after she left, watered
the indoor plants and ate our dinner of leftovers before we hit the sack
for the final time in St. Point. At midnight there were fireworks, but
Geralynn slept right through them and Don woke up, watched out the
window for a bit and then went back to bed.</div>
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Saturday morning we got up bright and early, packed up the remaining
food and put the bikes, cases and bags in the car and said goodby to our
beautiful view. The drive to Geneva was about 2 hours, but it is very
pretty, so it was a pleasant drive. We got off the peage before we got
to Switzerland because Geralynn still is resentful of Switzerland for
that 30euro highway sticker she had to buy a few years ago, and we drove
the circuitous route through small villages to get to the French side
of the airport. They do not make it easy.</div>
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So, we arrived at the airport in plenty of time, parked the Commelin's
car in the Eurocar parking and went into the airport to pick up our
rental car. After transferring our bikes and bags into our little Clio
(it was a challenge to fit everything) we went back up to the place we
were to meet the Commelins. Soon we saw them coming into the lobby and
we all hugged and air-kissed and we took them to their car. It was hard
to stop talking and let them go home, but we finally did.</div>
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We then took off, again avoiding Switzerland, and headed southwest to go
to Grenoble to visit our longtime friends, Jose and Marielle
Flatot-LeBohec, and their two sons, Victor and Charles.</div>
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We were so happy to easily find their house and say hello to our friends
again. We have along history. Don met Jose in Grenoble many years ago
and Jose and Marielle visited us 23 years ago in Sunnyvale. Over the
years we have crashed at their house a few times, but we never can get
them to come back to California.</div>
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at
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<h4>
1 comment:</h4>
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<cite class="user"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/13402163990237144827" rel="nofollow">cheryl</a></cite><span class="icon user"></span><span class="datetime secondary-text"><a href="http://france2012august.blogspot.com/2012/09/goodby-new-friends-hello-old-friends.html?showComment=1346621571816#c1307204254568105451" rel="nofollow">September 2, 2012 2:32 PM</a></span></div>
<div class="comment-content" id="bc_0_0MC">
Your adventures are my adventures...Marilyn and I enjoyed talking to you today Don, enjoy the Lake area..it's beautiful there.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-73661413433019738942012-08-30T17:23:00.000-07:002012-09-30T18:03:31.610-07:00CHATEAU de DREE and BIKE RIDES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Weather has been mixed over the last several days, but we still were able to get in some good rides.</div>
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At the urging of our host we packed up the bikes on Sunday and drove
into Lyon. Lyon is the place where the Saone and the Rhone rivers
converge. There is a little island in between the two rivers just
before they meet. While in town we walked around the old city, looking
at the statues, the opera, the Hotel Dieu, the rivers and parks. Then
we got our bikes from the car and rode the bicycle path along the river,
crossing the bridge onto the island. We rode to the big park at the
tip of the island where we set out our tablecloth, wine goblets, bread
and cheese and had our lunch as we watched the big, white swans float
by. There was lots of traffic heading north, mostly Dutch and Belgian
license plates, heading home at the end of their summer holidays.</div>
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We enjoyed our earlier ride on the back side of our hill, through cow
country so much that we did it again on Monday. But this time, instead of riding
up the steep side of the hill we rode around the end of the range, from
St. Point down to Bourgvilain, north to St. Cecile and again traversed up the
hillside to Tramayes. This was a better route and more fun to ride.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
A bit about the terrain near our house--this region has about 5 parallel
rows of hills, each between 800 and 1000 feet high, with nice river
valleys in between. The spread between the rows of hills is about 2 or 3
miles as the crow flies and the rows seem to be about 8 miles long.
Our house sits on the east side of one of the rows of hills. Cows seem
to be the main crop on our hill, but just a row or two to the west is
the very famous area of Pouilly Fuisse, where the grapes for the famous
white wines are grown. It is beautiful scenery to just drive around the
vineyards.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5zxakeavn2jLKMkJZTfaOV7MhMGKjtT-nbBgMcQUkYDTXK1pO8JKjvDN6yGKAjB2gyrhRuLk3coHTGtTozGx8qw-qTcz3OFcJFHh35_4KLq3vPvtuWNiVSiNJSWSk8DUsfioxNEfcsFN/s1600/P1130053.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5zxakeavn2jLKMkJZTfaOV7MhMGKjtT-nbBgMcQUkYDTXK1pO8JKjvDN6yGKAjB2gyrhRuLk3coHTGtTozGx8qw-qTcz3OFcJFHh35_4KLq3vPvtuWNiVSiNJSWSk8DUsfioxNEfcsFN/s200/P1130053.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The
next day we drove into Macon and rode along the river on the Voie Verte
from Macon to St. Albain. Even though rain was predicted we did not
get wet. We met a couple from the Netherlands. The woman had a bike
with an battery-operated motor, so we talked to them a bit and Don took
some photos. We might consider something like this if my arthritis gets
worse, but they are very heavy to pack, and also, we are not sure how
the TSA will treat the battery pack, so right now it is just a
discussion.</span></div>
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We made a visit to the archeological site at Solutre. This is a famous
rock formation in the Pouilly Fuisse region, surrounded by vineyards.
There is an active archeological dig here and many remains of horses and
humanoids have been found here. The lore is that early man would herd
the wild horses over the edge of the cliff and then use the hides,
hooves and meat, but that story has been debunked by the archeologists
now. However, this was an area where herds of horses were hunted and
slaughtered by early man.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
During the rest of the week we did a few more bike rides and then we
went to visit another chateau. I loved the Chateau de Dree and highly
recommend it for a visit. The chateau, built in 1620, has had several
owners. Now it is privately owned and has been refurbished with
authentic wall coverings and flooring, and furnished in antiques from
the 18th century. The furniture, dishware, silverware, carpets,
chandeliers and decor are all authentic and the chateau is lovely and
furnished beautifully. I especially enjoyed the Dresden china
collection and the beautiful table in the formal entry made of inlaid
woods.</div>
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On the first floor we visited the servants quarters and kitchen. The
head chef had a bedroom right above the kitchen, with a little window
looking down on the kitchen and also the servants hall, so he could
check and see that his staff were working and not goofing off. Then
we walked around to the dining room, the formal entry hall, and the
king's room. Every chateau had to have a special room set aside for the
king, richly furnished and nicely appointed, just in case he decided to
stop by. The south wing of the house was for the owners and their
guests and we visited studies, sitting rooms, several bedrooms and the
chapel. The tour was very informative and we were able to visit all but
the 4 private bedrooms of the owners, who were there.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThrGRoboGM_48cMf-lwLsL775O0j0FvTeF1wfsWIrHbe7bxX9V1d-e6y6n10Mdngb32_8kQSzAAfDYSmq6L6-2lOcWOlRZzZze8Rl4MEA16NVyT3jjEUzl-Bn4AU52YqkumYrMgruO4vZ/s1600/2012-08-30+Ch%C3%A2teau+de+Dr%C3%A9e2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThrGRoboGM_48cMf-lwLsL775O0j0FvTeF1wfsWIrHbe7bxX9V1d-e6y6n10Mdngb32_8kQSzAAfDYSmq6L6-2lOcWOlRZzZze8Rl4MEA16NVyT3jjEUzl-Bn4AU52YqkumYrMgruO4vZ/s640/2012-08-30+Ch%C3%A2teau+de+Dr%C3%A9e2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
Outside we visited the folly, the ice house, the butcher's kitchen, the
bath house, and the stables. In addition, the gardens are very lovely,
with a large rose garden, a topiary garden and a boxwood garden trimmed
into beautiful lacy designs. The topiaries were clipped with precision
and Don marveled over the yew "balls" that were as smooth as a putting
green. There were two large, graceful fountains in the gardens with
naiads by Jean de Bologne, the artist who did the figures for the famous
Neptune fountain in Florence.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
I highly recommend a visit here.</div>
</div>
</div>
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Posted by
<span class="fn">Don & Geralynn</span>
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at
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<h4>
1 comment:</h4>
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<li class="comment" id="bc_0_0B" kind="b"><div class="avatar-image-container">
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWka0fZMCCNJQN0ZpAxuSWzobwufnZ09Dza-A5pPYRD0orEc7Rb4PqV0bN7vMDccVtJ7X0hL5fuXaHJa9-A3Tx33I0T6bBT8WHiZzxjPLQpDTNDMIEDiCEkXnEAHHMtoEjEtH0f0bsg_9/s45/DSC09475.JPG" /></div>
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<cite class="user"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/13402163990237144827" rel="nofollow">cheryl</a></cite><span class="icon user"></span><span class="datetime secondary-text"><a href="http://france2012august.blogspot.com/2012/09/we-enjoyed-our-earlier-ride-on-back.html?showComment=1346874953763#c4337723814558615633" rel="nofollow">September 5, 2012 12:55 PM</a></span></div>
<div class="comment-content" id="bc_0_0MC">
Loved the Chateau's, it's so gorgeous there. Keep the pictures coming.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-50642672284893003682012-08-26T17:26:00.000-07:002012-09-30T18:04:21.043-07:00SUNNY DAYS, RAINY DAYS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTGMEG90AKu-HeEipeD5IzvudmI6_UCHlMsuz29ggh95U4Y6EjeCERoVcfhYiIjN015o5bva2Kg2Iq8h47rdWVThzm94TQlVnpCDATecJXhFoWhM1do-bC4oMGnp_uvpyCj-nHXGZzKyH/s1600/P1120734.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTGMEG90AKu-HeEipeD5IzvudmI6_UCHlMsuz29ggh95U4Y6EjeCERoVcfhYiIjN015o5bva2Kg2Iq8h47rdWVThzm94TQlVnpCDATecJXhFoWhM1do-bC4oMGnp_uvpyCj-nHXGZzKyH/s400/P1120734.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Over the past week we have had some weather. The first few days we had
very warm weather, and as the week moved along we began to get
afternoon thunderstorms, culminating in a very dramatic thunder and
lightening storm on Thursday and finishing up with a couple of rainy
days.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncvtA8dQyv1GjRcM6TXIbdKS8uxMuzLdm4qVNICn6E-E3pbW-3uYPSUPX7sGpWgqJKevsdVYj3xHR-FBIvqDNPKs1Z1SoXSn8uIIfIBx5KIXCxwzsuwJuQavUsq6Ob9B93UN237ugnVKd/s1600/2012-08-20+BR-+Bourgvilain-Clermain-Tramayes-St+Point.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncvtA8dQyv1GjRcM6TXIbdKS8uxMuzLdm4qVNICn6E-E3pbW-3uYPSUPX7sGpWgqJKevsdVYj3xHR-FBIvqDNPKs1Z1SoXSn8uIIfIBx5KIXCxwzsuwJuQavUsq6Ob9B93UN237ugnVKd/s640/2012-08-20+BR-+Bourgvilain-Clermain-Tramayes-St+Point.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Our bike rides during the hot spell were always early in the morning.
One day we rode over the crest of the hill in back of our house. We
actually went down the road D22 several miles to Bourgvilain and then
crossed over the steep hill and down the other side to Clermain. From
Clermain we traversed up the west side of the hill to Tramayes and then
back down to St.Point. We were good and sweaty when we got home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHlRQ24bz2pW6TdHMVUpBMwsmREiUSrks-lMx6FA-suL5f8KfscTnzNDWJQrGBCzXMiExODXjbf-P1YGMmbRKf_v2rCvwuow68GtKsicysq_kdXRE4EIX5d4SvLUL1bP4wxoZhu7qE4wM/s1600/2012-08-22+Cluny-Tunnel+du+Bois+Clair-Macon39.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHlRQ24bz2pW6TdHMVUpBMwsmREiUSrks-lMx6FA-suL5f8KfscTnzNDWJQrGBCzXMiExODXjbf-P1YGMmbRKf_v2rCvwuow68GtKsicysq_kdXRE4EIX5d4SvLUL1bP4wxoZhu7qE4wM/s640/2012-08-22+Cluny-Tunnel+du+Bois+Clair-Macon39.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The next day we drove over to Cluny and took the Voie Verte (Green
Route), which is a dedicated cycling-walking-skating path along the old
railroad right-of-way. We went south, through the long, cool tunnel,
Tunnel du Bois Clair (longest bicycle tunnel in Europe 1.6km), and on to
Charnay les Macon. Along the way we met the very nice Sylvie Tarallo
and her friend. We had a talk about les epines (thorns) on the route,
from the ourage (storm) while Don changed his tire. Sylvie was so
charming and friendly and she even offered us a place to stay if we came
her way. The Voie Verte is very nice cycling. Just a few small hills,
good signs and pretty scenery. We did about 24 miles.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBaUkGK2a6N8WbRFHnL1U3sZkW_J19TfgvZmcK-R1cec9PpJu-RV_kFzTYcKZRy5c3w0vB3vbJVlVn0Ze-KeA9AHe09BlC0W33g1vGjgyxaFvxYMmXHmByX9w1pQJ0bryLia_4bRAmoGk/s1600/IMAG0581.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBaUkGK2a6N8WbRFHnL1U3sZkW_J19TfgvZmcK-R1cec9PpJu-RV_kFzTYcKZRy5c3w0vB3vbJVlVn0Ze-KeA9AHe09BlC0W33g1vGjgyxaFvxYMmXHmByX9w1pQJ0bryLia_4bRAmoGk/s320/IMAG0581.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
That evening we went next door to Pierre's house for an aperitif.
There we met his wife, his daughter, Jeanne, his grand daughter, Fanny,
and his baby grandson. They are a charming family. The daughter and
grands are visiting for some time during the summer, We enjoyed a nice
bottle of wine and good conversation. Pierre showed Don his hideout in
the pigeon cote. He has made a nice little man-cave where he can escape
when he wants to. His wife lives in Paris 7 or 8 months a year and
then comes into the countryside for the hot summer. Pierre spends most
of his time in St. Point with an occasional visit to Paris.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv-lGPpqbJpdvxXAue91CPxvj9SyDZyS-B9C_XKmOzrpCWxb_Ty1gWKtv7HOuTQMfLC1TTdsAscTBZZrZtyZx7qXTPCzg1ydWfLc-XBzlBdFHOtYxVBZ_uu6Zpsld9I5gdMQ4S_xMrf9W/s1600/2012-08-23+Cluny-Cormatin-St+Gengoux+39.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv-lGPpqbJpdvxXAue91CPxvj9SyDZyS-B9C_XKmOzrpCWxb_Ty1gWKtv7HOuTQMfLC1TTdsAscTBZZrZtyZx7qXTPCzg1ydWfLc-XBzlBdFHOtYxVBZ_uu6Zpsld9I5gdMQ4S_xMrf9W/s320/2012-08-23+Cluny-Cormatin-St+Gengoux+39.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Another hot day was predicted, so we went early back to the Voie Verte
and this time rode north. We went as far as Saint Gengoux and then we
turned around. Along the way we stopped in Cormatin and checked the
times for the Chateau, which we could see from the bike route. We had a
nice picnic lunch and headed home before the rain.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
That night we had quite a dramatic thunderstorm, with crashing
lightening, flaring up the sky with bright jags of brilliant light, and
booming thunder. We ate our dinner and watched the show out the living
room window before going to bed. The booms and flashes were still in
full swing when we hit the sack.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBtnK23MoTnnfeH_YYGrYZAIM-HEEY75_6zEUp7w3zXWJKTB_9t8YZdD5yPUngife2nXylAA3oHjqLe_2UHCBKub5hr3nlgah8X-9470r3E4rHln92Yj3Igm8zotINCGmnDTOAH1PuRy6/s1600/P1120879_stitch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBtnK23MoTnnfeH_YYGrYZAIM-HEEY75_6zEUp7w3zXWJKTB_9t8YZdD5yPUngife2nXylAA3oHjqLe_2UHCBKub5hr3nlgah8X-9470r3E4rHln92Yj3Igm8zotINCGmnDTOAH1PuRy6/s1600/P1120879_stitch.jpg" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
When we got up it was still raining and gray. We declared it a day for
museums and galleries, and headed off to the Chateau de LaMartine. As I
mentioned in an earlier report, Alphonse de LaMartine was a poet,
author and statesman. At the designated hour a fellow drove up and
opened the big, white, iron gate and a group of us were allowed to enter
the grounds of the estate.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgn4EJCfHqZ5mllaz3IQ6kZxzRHOVVNkc4eWtTl2NDYXoi2zCSjJGkIDlI_xQ9USrBfovO7HmbB28wRZtMdvgrzQLpiBSoK0GRnmM2eUEFgZc-Akp10bhm9fb9vm3NUE_GwO3dS8nq8MI/s1600/2012-08-24+Chateau+de+Lamartin-Cluny+Abbey.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgn4EJCfHqZ5mllaz3IQ6kZxzRHOVVNkc4eWtTl2NDYXoi2zCSjJGkIDlI_xQ9USrBfovO7HmbB28wRZtMdvgrzQLpiBSoK0GRnmM2eUEFgZc-Akp10bhm9fb9vm3NUE_GwO3dS8nq8MI/s640/2012-08-24+Chateau+de+Lamartin-Cluny+Abbey.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
An elderly lady, (well I guess I am elderly too, but I keep forgetting that, and she <u>did</u>
seem so much older than I feel), with a creaky voice led us on the tour
of the receiving room, the library, the bedroom and the dining room.
Her voice was so creaky and she spoke so fast that I could only make out
50% of the story. Since the chateau is so big, Don and I felt a bit
shortchanged and that a 4 room tour was a bit scanty to justify the
price, 9euro.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6CqdZJZq3qsxsLWjPEwPMxpYZGospfYN-Dw_lq2ycRP-z4q4BmwTRFx6cLmi-MXFQiX6Ipjr7ZQU_m42_piZiCNIuICWOEZuRM63i2caS8c5I4jf_7N6GpF8vqvCsUJRC9b98s2NIQ9X/s1600/2012-08-24+Chateau+de+Lamartin-Cluny+Abbey1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6CqdZJZq3qsxsLWjPEwPMxpYZGospfYN-Dw_lq2ycRP-z4q4BmwTRFx6cLmi-MXFQiX6Ipjr7ZQU_m42_piZiCNIuICWOEZuRM63i2caS8c5I4jf_7N6GpF8vqvCsUJRC9b98s2NIQ9X/s640/2012-08-24+Chateau+de+Lamartin-Cluny+Abbey1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Next we moved on down the road and visited the famous Abbey of Cluny,
started in 910 by William I, the Pious, Duke of Aquitane. Man, this
thing was huge in it's heyday. It was the biggest cathedral in the
world until st. Peters was built in Rome. The monks were of the
Benedictine order, a very strict group. The monastery of Cluny became
very wealthy and was an important pilgrimage stop. The monks spent
their time in prayer and copying manuscripts, just like the stereotype
we have of medieval monks. The huge monastery was destroyed during the
French Revolution and only a small part remains, however, the part that
does remain is huge, so the entire complex was the size of a medium
town. We also visited the Museum to view some of the original lintels
and capitals that have been recovered during the excavation and
restoration projects.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Time for home, beer or wine and peanuts. Enough museum walking for that day.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
It was still looking very dark and cloudy, with rain predicted for
Saturday, so we kept the bikes in the car, packed up our cycling clothes
and drove over to Cormatin. There we visited the very nice Chateau.
This chateau has some amazing wall murals, that we are assured are
original, from the 16th century. They are in such good condition it is
hard to imagine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnPFEsodMAc7DDdP-ZgmNjBDIrUwcbWuFjtF2ioz9ZxlPqXRyWsa0d4gDSGVKEtPulw25fW9UaZbnqQdAwMlOf4Qs9FJShXwtW7wXKORnxtzUyixFJFDEwwRSrWTfL5CWbWFcbZd7HWSu/s1600/2012-08-25++Du+Chateau+de+Cormatin-Brancion2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnPFEsodMAc7DDdP-ZgmNjBDIrUwcbWuFjtF2ioz9ZxlPqXRyWsa0d4gDSGVKEtPulw25fW9UaZbnqQdAwMlOf4Qs9FJShXwtW7wXKORnxtzUyixFJFDEwwRSrWTfL5CWbWFcbZd7HWSu/s640/2012-08-25++Du+Chateau+de+Cormatin-Brancion2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The tour was extensive, with visits to the innovative open staircase,
the Receiving room, the Marquise's bedroom, the privacy room, and the
garde-robe. In these times the bedroom was very public and many people
could be in the Marquise's bedroom. If she wanted some peace and quiet
or a private conversation, she would go into her privacy room. All of
the rooms were fully furnished and nicely decorated with traditional
furnishings. I got an English guide for Don and was quite impressed
with the quality of the translation and the effort put into making the
visit high caliber. This is a Chateau visit I recommend very highly.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
After the Chateau tour we had a bit of lunch and then drove on to visit
the medieval town of Brancion. Set high on a hill, overlooking lush,
green valleys, this town is still as it was in 1000AD (or CE if you are
politically correct.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LbIMshhOshhtzlpMMl4nNY8V-YOmwEqo9CqSAlGgd1CC-Vpx2H1JOZxrl48_tJYEmnUYaN__fdUJYyJHpn5IXrzHMa4fK5b4pNpWVtw6WZ2B32z_qyH1ZBwTsC-06x3Kip_fUJbu9eM5/s1600/2012-08-25++Du+Chateau+de+Cormatin-Brancion3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LbIMshhOshhtzlpMMl4nNY8V-YOmwEqo9CqSAlGgd1CC-Vpx2H1JOZxrl48_tJYEmnUYaN__fdUJYyJHpn5IXrzHMa4fK5b4pNpWVtw6WZ2B32z_qyH1ZBwTsC-06x3Kip_fUJbu9eM5/s640/2012-08-25++Du+Chateau+de+Cormatin-Brancion3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The ancient church offers wall murals which are in the process of being
restored. Our visit was enhanced by the lovely harp music which
resounded throughout the church while we admired the murals and
explored.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1fEbmTQX1oqC7q9HE-9fgj30BH0e5yNIFcCkwKXBfVOMTNh3EBvAwAdIjXOw9JGdIpJGq8zKN-H5Wcu4h7J71P3P3T7iGgbp8-PLn0JQlgE79tKtotNwhFvEfq2iAtVyu0q_rQCdUUbA/s1600/P1120954.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1fEbmTQX1oqC7q9HE-9fgj30BH0e5yNIFcCkwKXBfVOMTNh3EBvAwAdIjXOw9JGdIpJGq8zKN-H5Wcu4h7J71P3P3T7iGgbp8-PLn0JQlgE79tKtotNwhFvEfq2iAtVyu0q_rQCdUUbA/s200/P1120954.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Apparently a wedding had recently concluded because the beautiful,
slender bride and her svelte groom were posing around the ancient
buildings for the photographer.</div>
<br />
More information on Brancion:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.brancion.fr/histoire.php">http://www.brancion.fr/histoire.php</a><br />
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We thought about doing a bike ride further north on the Voie Verte, but
it looked like rain and it was windy and cold and we wanted our naps, so
home we went.<br />
<br />
For more information on the Cormatin: <br />
<div id="sitename">
<a href="http://www.chateaudecormatin.com/en">Château de Cormatin</a>
</div>
<div id="subheader">
</div>
</div>
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Posted by
<span class="fn">Don & Geralynn</span>
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at
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<h4>
1 comment:</h4>
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<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWka0fZMCCNJQN0ZpAxuSWzobwufnZ09Dza-A5pPYRD0orEc7Rb4PqV0bN7vMDccVtJ7X0hL5fuXaHJa9-A3Tx33I0T6bBT8WHiZzxjPLQpDTNDMIEDiCEkXnEAHHMtoEjEtH0f0bsg_9/s45/DSC09475.JPG" /></div>
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<div class="comment-header" id="bc_0_0M" kind="m">
<cite class="user"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/13402163990237144827" rel="nofollow">cheryl</a></cite><span class="icon user"></span><span class="datetime secondary-text"><a href="http://france2012august.blogspot.com/2012/08/sunny-days-rainy-days.html?showComment=1346181377253#c2068859641944632572" rel="nofollow">August 28, 2012 12:16 PM</a></span></div>
<div class="comment-content" id="bc_0_0MC">
Looks like a great day. I love the chateau's.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-37323109413872344372012-08-19T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:20:24.401-07:00DISCOVERING CLUNY <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="post hentry" itemscope="itemscope" itemtype="http://schema.org/BlogPosting">
<div class="post-header" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The weather is becoming very warm and the forecast is for 96 degrees and
higher for the next several days. So we decided to make our bike ride
early today.</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-3739614917438991605" itemprop="description articleBody">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcRa3IyumyP1G6aIuZDJKTYXbyRqixKEJyrVgZO1hHsjISFrNnv0NBPKLtuQAJVWjXFOtHXbunE7OQLO7lVJ9O1hjk7pi0TwT67zAf6eUVf22MimpxebS52IPnz7AVaz_GoSyeSLlKMf-/s1600/P1120687.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcRa3IyumyP1G6aIuZDJKTYXbyRqixKEJyrVgZO1hHsjISFrNnv0NBPKLtuQAJVWjXFOtHXbunE7OQLO7lVJ9O1hjk7pi0TwT67zAf6eUVf22MimpxebS52IPnz7AVaz_GoSyeSLlKMf-/s400/P1120687.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
At 8:30 am the air was still fresh and cool as we headed down our hill
to the D22. There was very little traffic so early on Sunday morning,
so the ride through town and on to Cluny was very enjoyable. The
meadows and hillsides are green and vibrant, the villages are cute and
quaint, the traffic is light, the road is easy to ride.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOj0gMODHPXCsprYz5MiFQy2TZ1UyJp7X486n00gUwohv4SgD9RHIWmoAaPIZNJgy7OikCCVAWIYmjtsX7vyi2tWySnCVp8g2Jrm-dbgaqVnCbP1RLAxjQJCf5QB9gpQBY5LnCjlGRst2F/s1600/P1120659.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOj0gMODHPXCsprYz5MiFQy2TZ1UyJp7X486n00gUwohv4SgD9RHIWmoAaPIZNJgy7OikCCVAWIYmjtsX7vyi2tWySnCVp8g2Jrm-dbgaqVnCbP1RLAxjQJCf5QB9gpQBY5LnCjlGRst2F/s200/P1120659.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
First we turned into the road that takes us up to the Chateau. The
owner was Alphonse de Lamartine, an author, a poet and a politician. He
is most known for this collection of poems entitled <u>Meditations,</u> which were inspired by a young woman he met in Aix-les-Bains.<u> </u>Their
passionate love affair was tragically ended when the lovely Julie died
unexpectedly. He later married an English woman and became the
ambassador to Italy.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The chateau might be interesting to visit. There is a daily guided tour
at 11am, so maybe we will get a chance to go into the estate later in
the week. Since it was too early when we visited, we headed back down
the hill and on into Cluny.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqBwCZtuI_wTLWLwUgOfa3J2zJJRoBo2XqW_8tt_0tqY5zNf0x19QQh905CNIUUeqIFu5lGb3gdsKbriXPLGzEjgbQDA9BUjp4i-Y_VA_Md_XcVbGlVvwK6vZmLqQqXuc150HrC1Rbwzs/s1600/P1120676_stitch.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqBwCZtuI_wTLWLwUgOfa3J2zJJRoBo2XqW_8tt_0tqY5zNf0x19QQh905CNIUUeqIFu5lGb3gdsKbriXPLGzEjgbQDA9BUjp4i-Y_VA_Md_XcVbGlVvwK6vZmLqQqXuc150HrC1Rbwzs/s320/P1120676_stitch.jpg" width="269" /></a></div>
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When we got to Cluny we rode up into the town where we took a look at the famous Benedictine</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Abbey, built in the tenth century. While a large part of the abbey
stands, it appears that it used to be much larger as we can see
foundations for the support pillars that extend for two blocks. Next
trip to Cluny we will go into the abbey to learn more. It is an
imposing structure.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Continuing through the town, we enjoyed the old town area full of
narrow, cobbled streets, cafes and shops. By this time of day people
were out and about, picking up baguettes at the boulanger, selecting</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
croissants and pain au chocolat at the numerous patisseries, and sipping cafe noir at the sidewalk tables.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
We headed back out of town and made it home by 11 am as the sun was
heating up. Into our nice, cool house, we took our showers, had a bite
to eat and took a rest. Later we Skyped Pauline and Jerry to get an
update.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Don has given up on getting me to join him at the kitchen table, and he
has assembled a jury-rigged table out of a couple of saw horses and a
sheet of particle board and put it in the back yard so I can eat out
there and enjoy my view. I covered the board up with a nice tablecloth
and we had a late dinner of salmon and salad with dark chocolate ice
cream in honor of Jerry, who often reminisces about the delicious dark
chocolate ice cream he enjoys in France. The weather cooled off and it
was quite pleasant in the evening.</div>
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<cite class="user"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/13402163990237144827" rel="nofollow">cheryl</a></cite><span class="icon user"></span><span class="datetime secondary-text"><a href="http://france2012august.blogspot.com/2012/08/discovering-cluny.html?showComment=1345648351759#c1341193159417836858" rel="nofollow">August 22, 2012 8:12 AM</a></span></div>
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I
absolutely love the photo of the river with the reflection of the house
and then the red flowers, Don that is a great shot. I think it would
make a great oil, when you get home. I got your voice mail, sorry I
didn't answer, I didn't recognize number and I'm leery of unknown
numbers, too many solicitors. but I put it in my phone so will recognize
next time. Plus will leave computer on so will hear if you call on
Skype. Have fun , Cheryl</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-56797500322065361602012-08-18T21:30:00.000-07:002012-09-29T09:18:41.122-07:00THE PRODIGAL SON RETURNS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Another bright, sunny day arrived and early in the morning we received a
reassuring telephone call from British Air. Our recalcitrant valise
had been reined in and was due to return to our custody this morning.
Goody.</div>
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We hung out all morning, working on our reports and photos. I spent a
lot of time sitting in the back yard soaking in the gorgeous view. Soon
I began to hear the toot of a horn down the road. Toot, toot. Then a
quiet time. Then toot, toot. More quiet. I eventually figured out
that this must be the suitcase deliveryman trying to find the right
house and I began to walk up the drive to the gate. Here came Henri,
our cheerful little delivery man. "You are waiting for a valise,
n'est-ce-pas?" "Mais oui!" I responded., Henri thanked me for the good
directions and said it made it so much easier to find the house. He
unloaded Don's bike from his little delivery van and said adieu. Don
grabbed his long lost case and hugged it to his chest. He is overjoyed
to have it back again.</div>
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The case came along with a big batch of tags and stickers, attesting to
its world tour. This afternoon Don will set up his bike and then we can
start riding every day.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We spent most of the afternoon just hanging out around the house and
took a quick trip to the grocery store, since it is Saturday and often
the stores are closed on Sunday.</div>
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When we got back from the store Don set up his bike and admired it
fondly. Maybe tomorrow for a bike ride. Jet lag is beginning to kick
in.</div>
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I made a tasty dinner of pork roast with roasted vegetables. We set the
patio table, using our favorite Provencal tablecloth that Susie, Cheryl
and Marilyn got for us the year we all went to Marseilles. Don got a
bit sentimental, thinking about his little sister Susie, and remembering
what a good time she had that trip and how much more fun the whole
experience was with her along. Every time we get our tablecloth out we
have a sweet and loving thought of Susie.</div>
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<cite class="user"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/13402163990237144827" rel="nofollow">cheryl</a></cite><span class="icon user"></span><span class="datetime secondary-text"><a href="http://france2012august.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-prodigal-son-returns.html?showComment=1345648458601#c7231984177195017235" rel="nofollow">August 22, 2012 8:14 AM</a></span></div>
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Thanks for remembering Susan, that tablecloth does bring back great memories for all of us. Love you all. Cheryl</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6951720214558572406.post-29132176229938515852012-08-14T21:30:00.000-07:002013-01-05T07:14:57.840-08:00THE SMUG BUG BITES US <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
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We have been working hard for the last few weeks to get everything ready
for our trip to Burgundy, France, Northern Italy, Austria and Germany.
We got Treetop all ready, set up sheets and towel sets for our various
renters who will be coming while we are gone, and built a ramp from the
road to the trail so we can roll the hand truck up to the house from the
street. The house looks great!</div>
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As usual, our website went down just a few days before our departure.
It appears that our provider has finally gone belly-up and our URL is
now stuck in legal limbo. No website to post stories, show off our
houses, etc. Don tried to find out how to get custody of our URL, to no
avail. So we are using Blogspot this year. </div>
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We also got the Sunnyvale house all ready for our home exchange family,
the Commelins from St. Point, France. The house was clean, the yard
looked nice, the maps and info books were ready. We sat down in our
living room on Tuesday afternoon, 8 hours before our guests were due,
and looked at each other and grinned. We are good! Even that egregious
automatic watering system, a constant thorn in my side, was working
properly. Every detail was handled with time to spare.</div>
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Around 9pm we got in the Dodge to go to SFO to pick up the Commelins. I
had my nice yellow sign ready so they could find me, the car was clean
and gassed, we had plenty of time to get to the airport, we had
double-checked and confirmed their arrival time. We were on top of
everything. As we eased around the curve on the flyover from 85 to 101
we heard a loud BANG! What was that??? But the car seemed to be ok and
we didn't feel any bump or wobble in the car, so we continued on.</div>
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By the time we got to Redwood City I started to hear a noise. Did you
hear that, Don? What is that? Mr. Grumpy snarled, "I hear it. I don't
know what it is." The next thing we knew the tire started wobbling and
making a hellacious noise. Of course there was not safe place to pull
over, so we got in the slow lane and put on the hazard lights and limped
off the freeway on Whipple Ave. By now the tire was toast--shredded
and burning.</div>
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We got the car into a parking lot and determined that the whole wheel
would have to be changed out. Don set about getting the spare off the
mounting under the car and I was worried that our guests would be
concerned when we were not there to meet them. So I quickly got my
handy cell phone working and called our go-to guy for emergency rescue.
"Gary, help! Can you rescue us?' I gave him the deets and told him he
would have to clear stuff out of his car to accommodate a family of
four, Don and I too. He agreed to be our hero.</div>
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In the meanwhile, Don is down on his hands and knees in the dirt and
gravel, cussing and skinning his knuckles trying to figure out how to
detach the spare tire. I frantically enlisted Maggie, our favorite GPS,
trying to find an emergency service. Our road service contract lets us
use any service and just reimburses us. So, I called station after
station trying to find one that actually provides service, to no avail.
Don finally got the spare tire off the mounting and now was skinning
his knuckles and straining his back trying to loosen the lug nuts on the
wheel. I kept trying to get him to stop hurting himself and promised
to get some help, but he was just mad and snurly (made up word to
combine snarly with the effect of the trademarked Myrah nasty and
disdainful lip curl).</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Just then I spotted a tow truck driving right down the frontage road
past us and I jumped up and down and waved at him. Paul Beckett a very nice guy from
Beckett's Auto Transport Service and his wife stopped and he jumped out
of his truck, unloaded numerous fancy professional car tools, and had
the wheel changed in 5 minutes. He made us feel real old when we
thanked him and offered to pay, and he responded that he hoped that if <u>his</u>
grandparents were in this situation someone would stop to help them
too, so no charge. Many thanks to this nice guy, Paul Beckett. And, if
you ever need a vehicle transported, call him in Santa Clara.
408-318-4556.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Meanwhile I called Gary and told him he was off the hook, talked to the
Commelins and let them know we were on the way. We found them at the
airport, very tired after 24 hours of travel, and took them to Sunnyvale
and just quickly showed them the house before heading over to DJ's for
the night.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
This is just another proof of my "superstition" that every time you are
patting yourself on the back and smugly thinking how great you are,
something will jump up and remind you that you are not the hot shot you
think you are. This has happened to me more that once, so I really
don't consider it a superstition anymore.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
August 15, 2012</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
After a good night's sleep at DJ's house, Don and I returned to
Ticonderoga and Don took the ruined tire to get it replaced. I showed
Eric and Cristelle around the house and went through all of the
information with them, gave them instructions for Treetop and also the
Lodge, in case the want to go there for a few days. They only have two
weeks and there is so much to do I don't now how they can fit everything
in. Anyway, we wish them a wonderful stay in Northern California.</div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtOMhUpc-f_IzdmGxQQRqVAA0bCLS8lDQzWaeuhyphenhyphencpxygg1hvo9lPxW48Fl6HHEf2zexj-zIgH4zFWDkJef1QoNOMKuZY7nBMnKLU4sFDr0tD7uvyS9q9Nr8v5Ixae2tYkS3-z53iu0_r/s1600/IMAG0564.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtOMhUpc-f_IzdmGxQQRqVAA0bCLS8lDQzWaeuhyphenhyphencpxygg1hvo9lPxW48Fl6HHEf2zexj-zIgH4zFWDkJef1QoNOMKuZY7nBMnKLU4sFDr0tD7uvyS9q9Nr8v5Ixae2tYkS3-z53iu0_r/s640/IMAG0564.jpg" height="380" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After several false departures we finally said our final goodbyes and
Gary drove us to the airport where we caught our plane, a nice British
Air Jumbo. I really have to compliment British Air for excellent
service, comfortable seats and decent meals. The flight to Heathrow
went well. I watched several movies to pass the time. They had those
nice individual screens so I could pick and choose from a generous
menu. I saw a cute movie with Judith Dench about a bunch of old folks
who went to India on a special travel promotion, The Best Exotic
Marigold Hotel. It was cute for us old folks.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq231IjP4VPWgPQC2Wa7NvymtGg4gMU2qoi7HKTxChd6FmaanudwmdLopvFyX-1hYGtaTleDQTl9AYW8PooqRUNJZcmOugMJiEV25eQDtn510ScydSMRPqY7M4wYg96bQ4mj4ew55XfF8r/s1600/IMAG0570.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq231IjP4VPWgPQC2Wa7NvymtGg4gMU2qoi7HKTxChd6FmaanudwmdLopvFyX-1hYGtaTleDQTl9AYW8PooqRUNJZcmOugMJiEV25eQDtn510ScydSMRPqY7M4wYg96bQ4mj4ew55XfF8r/s320/IMAG0570.jpg" height="320" width="191" /></a></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugKHsXAyvPqoRFkUbtz40RuQE7ntvbA3BnzPV2FTm71sf9tGcFOt7DldTsECPs5d8buRVqlg11auWO3GaE7glIwvRyU4-2lUzQBiWE2Tjh-E-UTYvxzhqeJV4Amuj83A0ZoPHqjoqsOIp/s1600/IMAG0568.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugKHsXAyvPqoRFkUbtz40RuQE7ntvbA3BnzPV2FTm71sf9tGcFOt7DldTsECPs5d8buRVqlg11auWO3GaE7glIwvRyU4-2lUzQBiWE2Tjh-E-UTYvxzhqeJV4Amuj83A0ZoPHqjoqsOIp/s320/IMAG0568.jpg" height="190" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We
got to Heathrow and made our connection to Geneva with no problems.
Since we flew overnight we arrived the next day--August 16. Now it was
time to find the car and venture out into the countryside to find our
exchange house. But wait! First we have to collect our checked
luggage--our Bike Fridays. Mine came off right away and then we waited
and waited until there was no more. No bike for Don. Off to the
baggage handling department to report the lost bike. The young man who
helped us was very competent and located our bag, still at Heathrow, and
promised to have it delivered tomorrow. Good luck on that, the house,
far in the country and up a dirt road, may not be easy to locate.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
We easily found the Commelin's car and set up our GPS and headed out to
the A21 toward Macon. First we had to bail the car out of the parking
garage--another nasty Swiss surprise--71 Swiss francs. Holy moly!
Finally found a credit card that would work in Switzerland--they don't
like Visa--and we were on our way.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cMCsZlI64F652-LlvF4FsI7wipgTwJRYGBIkvWBuweCLyByy-lN9xCsnXKtahn6K9PZ_N6n6MRTkqhQ2pMNNimPA9ezxJpkog61MKhtE5ZrS6ca0vrnbi5ogXLwV30ovI0opw0ZNtiR-/s1600/P1120690.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cMCsZlI64F652-LlvF4FsI7wipgTwJRYGBIkvWBuweCLyByy-lN9xCsnXKtahn6K9PZ_N6n6MRTkqhQ2pMNNimPA9ezxJpkog61MKhtE5ZrS6ca0vrnbi5ogXLwV30ovI0opw0ZNtiR-/s640/P1120690.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The car, a Citroen minivan or SUV, I can't really distinguish, is very
nice. It has a built-in GPS with a nice big picture. It is very easy
to use, so we followed that one (Trixie, our GPS, was giving us
conflicting directions. Our fault because we still had her programmed
for bicycle routes.) After two hours we finally made it to Macon around
9pm. Don spotted a McDonald's billboard, and after our little
orange-cranberry bread and coffee breakfast on the plane several
stressful hours earlier, we were really hungry. Hungry is not a good
place for Don to be, so we decided to break our cardinal rule, and stop
for a burger. First we went to the bank for some cash and then
McDonalds.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Appetites at bay, we headed out for the last leg of our trip, down dark
and narrow country lanes. Luckily, Don had researched the house and how
to get there, and he knew what it should look like, so he found it with
only minor wrong turns. Of course there is the French gate and we
could not find a remote to open it. I got out of the car to investigate
and found a key in the lock, so I was able to open the gate and we
drove into our new estate for the next two weeks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KhprGhTmLYFXk4kTAI40mk7eSE2xsdRP_AmV40o4MmxZJGrLBcgG8F57xnJupKTTJUYKmE6UlUrdBWLevVBlHl-jfPp5eSppn_MwpKeH1_5aD7CL5GBC2A25o04xTLYabFVW384GoRud/s1600/P1120609_stitch.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KhprGhTmLYFXk4kTAI40mk7eSE2xsdRP_AmV40o4MmxZJGrLBcgG8F57xnJupKTTJUYKmE6UlUrdBWLevVBlHl-jfPp5eSppn_MwpKeH1_5aD7CL5GBC2A25o04xTLYabFVW384GoRud/s640/P1120609_stitch.JPG" height="316" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The house is very spacious--a nicely remodeled barn. We looked around,
found the bathrooms--the first point of business after that long
trip--and then explored the many levels, from kitchen to office. I love
the big windows with lots of light and the rooms are huge. Don set up
the computer to handle a few issues and I took a shower and crashed
until 2:30am. So now I am writing our story and waiting for morning to
come. Feel pretty good.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
August 17, 2012</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After writing the earlier middle-of-the-night piece I went back to bed,
cuddled up to Don, who grumbled "you are freezing!" and put his arms and
legs around me to get me warm. This put me right to sleep and I had a
good sleep until 9 the next morning</span>.<br />
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<br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Now that it is daylight I must say WOW!!! The view from here, up on the
hill, is breathtaking. We really couldn't appreciate it before, when
it was dark, but in the daylight the green hills, blue skies, lake,
little country roads, patches of farms across the valley, all combine to
make breathtaking views. I hope Don will post some photos to go with
this so you can appreciate what I am saying.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
So, after I got up and spent several minutes appreciating the view, we
went grocery shopping. We went to the Atac in Cluny. As soon as we got
there Don started to remember that he hadn't had his breakfast, and to
head off the grumpies I got him a sandwich and sent him outside to eat
it. Before he left he adamantly handed down his edict--only buy food
for 4 days. He came in to check out my basket and "help" after he
finished his sandwich. It is hard for me to be quick when shopping
because I have to search the store for the item I want, scan the
shelves, read the French, find the brand I want, convert from pounds to
kilograms and euros to dollars to figure out what I am paying.
Selecting a can of tuna can take 10 minutes. So, to keep him more
patient with me, I send him off to find the ice cream and the beer and
the cookies. That way I can have some peace to think about what I want
to buy.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
In the meanwhile, Don was also fretting about his bike, which we were
expecting to be delivered today. He wanted me to call first thing in
the morning, but I wouldn't. I hate to make phone calls, ever. But
making one in a foreign country is really stressful. I told him we
should wait until afternoon.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
We went home and put away the groceries, ate some lunch, took a nap.
Still no bike, so I relented and called the British Air Baggage Contact
Center. The nice girl who looked up our claim number was "desole"
because now Don's bike has taken a side trip to Cairo. Don envisions it
having a great time visiting the Pyramids and riding camels. In the
meanwhile papa is here wringing his hands and fretting over his wayward
bike.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
So, the madamoiselle of British Airways said they would get the roaming
bike back to Geneva tomorrow and be sure it got delivered to us. I gave
her some more clues on how to find the house--go through the town, past
the lake, turn right at the sign that says Le Mont. Follow the road up
the hill, when you come to a T in the road turn right and follow the
EC6 sign. The house is the last one on the road, with a red gate.
Hopefully it will be here tomorrow.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
In the afternoon we decided to do a hike down to the lake. Don had
scoped out some hiking trails. So we headed out, up the hill on an old
dirt farm road, and then turned off on an overgrown trail. Eventually
the trail turned down hill and we followed as it became more overgrown
and less discernible with every step. Soon we could not find the trail
anymore and so we set off cross-country through berry vines and ivy.
Now that my left knee is not too dependable, I grabbed a fallen branch
from the forest floor and used that as a walking stick. Don kept
assuring me that he saw the glint of sun on water ahead as we tramped
and tripped our way through the vegetation.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
We finally came out onto a trail again, thank goodness. Along the trail
we saw many French banana slugs, which are pumpkin orange and seemed to
be curled up together in a spiral--perhaps making whoopee. Farther
down the trail the slugs turned brown. They are not as big as
California Banana Slugs, but still were 6-8 inches long with sluggy
feelers and a slimy look to them.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
We made it to the lake where we checked out the poster about scheduled
performers for the summer. As we continued along the lakeside we could
hear this week's group playing and singing. Their unique lyrics were
"Check, one, two, three, check one, two, three" accompanied by a heavy
bass. Sorry to say, this group is not on the A list.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
As we approached our home we saw the neighbor in his yard and stopped to
introduce ourselves. Pierre is a genial fellow and we had a good chat
and promised to get together next week for a drink.</div>
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We sat out on the back side of the house and had a glass of the nice
white wine Eric left for us, and some green olives and peanuts. There
is a very nice outdoor table set in the front yard of the house in a
very pleasant setting, but I am so entranced by the stunning view, I
have set up a chair and a makeshift table on the back side of the house
where I can sit and look over my lands like the owner of the chateau. </div>
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A little later we had a dinner of jazzed up pizza and sliced tomatoes.
While I was cooking my cell phone rang and, as I am loath to incur
European roaming charges, I didn't answer it. As we ate our dinner I
watched a car on the road below, creeping along hesitantly. I
postulated that maybe this was the delivery service with Don's bike.
Big mistake! We investigated the unanswered call and found it was from a
Swiss location. Oh No! The call must have been from the delivery
people and we didn't answer and now they had turned back towards the
town. Well, I don't think it was, but Don was excited.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We spent the next hour and a half trying to call the British Air Baggage
Service, to no avail. Oh, man. Why did I ever point out that slow
moving car, which I now think was just a happy camper slowly driving
down the dirt road in the pitch black. By 11 o'clock I gave Don a kiss
goodnight and hit the sack.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I hope that darn bike shows up tomorrow.</div>
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<span class="fn">Don & Geralynn</span>
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<cite class="user"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/13402163990237144827" rel="nofollow">cheryl</a></cite><span class="icon user"></span><span class="datetime secondary-text"><a href="http://france2012august.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-smug-bug-bites-us.html?showComment=1345648570196#c1769724682771501652" rel="nofollow">August 22, 2012 8:16 AM</a></span></div>
<div class="comment-content" id="bc_0_0MC">
Great way to start your trip, glad the bike is back with you. Your home exchange looks wonderful. enjoy. Cheryl</div>
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