All things Hungarian. Who knew Buda and Pest were two separate towns until 1873? Joined now in name and also by four very pretty bridges crisscrossing the Duna. Only Hungarian High Altitude flour, along with Hungarian gulyas, rings a bell.
Gulyas, which in Hungarian means herdsman or cattle stockman, is a stew made of meat, potatoes, carrots, spices. Under my careful preparation when I used to cook for my kids, it morphed into everything I could find in the refrigerator combined into one pot.
And Hungarian High Altitude Flour has a Colorado connection. John Mullen patented the process of milling flour using the method started in Hungary. He brought it to Colorado, founding a flour milling empire that made him one of the richest men in Denver. The Flour Mill lofts by my townhouse were once a part of his Hungarian High Altitude brand. The high altitude part is simply because the flour was grown in Colorado, Montana, and the Dakotas.
Not many have heard of "taking the waters" in Hungary, but we jumped in today. A trip through Budapest on the bikes brought us to the center of City Park, where we locked the wheels outside an old, ornate, peeling yellow building. A complex built in 1913, when statuary and decoration were in fashion. The Szechenyi Spa and Baths. After being assigned a changing cabin the size of a coffin, we closed the door behind us and changed into swim attire.
Squeezing out and walking the few steps into the pool area, we had our choice of; left, a wave pool; center, a huge lap pool; right, a warm, 25 degree celcius pool. We chose the warm but, I wanted to go inside a small door on the far wall promising more hot water and soaking.
We took the plunge, entering a tomb-like cavern. Slick rock floors. Dripping. Steamy. Echoes. Bodies. Butt cheeks. Pot bellies. Fountains. Water.
One 40 degree pool, next to a 20 degree pool for the heat-ice experience. Laura partook, I declined. Pools behind low arches and mysterious corners where only the veteran Hungarians appeared to go. More arches, columns, mosaic tiles, doorways. Dripping, echoes, puddles, low ceilings. Enough of the cave, we walked outside after a half hour or so.
In the warm pool again, I noticed a sign reading szauna, pointing down a stone stairway. Laura declined. I made my way into a long room. More flesh. Arm to arm on long wooden planks, two deep, three high. I was reminded of chickens roosting in chicken coops. Sweat. Heat. Dripping. Sweat. Men, with the occasional bikini top mixed in. Squirming, sweat, sighs, drips, heads in hands.
Back outside, we tried the wave pool, where people of all ages and nationalities bumped and stumbled around a circular course, laughing like two year olds being tickled. Then back to the warm. Laura tried a power nap as I watched men playing chess on a watery board placed on a step of the pool. Conversations with strange sounds. Vratch, schzra, kooch, vlut, zloty. Every so often I heard a word like John Travolta or something actually familiar to my language challenged brain.
Tomorrow we will board a train for Kracow, Poland. After i post this, for the last time we are heading to an etterem, (restaurant) with genuine Hungarian flour and gulyas.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Buda
A quick ferry ride across the river today and we rode down to Vac. Pronounced vats in Hungarian. Arrived in this little village about 2 pm, and spent about an hour quizzing the locals about the location of a bed. Our Hungarian has improved to the point to where we know one word. But that word changes, and under pressure it disappears.
A shower and walk downtown improves the spirits, and a lucky Skype conversation with the kids and grandkids, mixed with multiple Hungarian beers at the zentro square completes a really nice day.
We had a gyro at a street shop for dinner, where I stumbled my way through the menu with sign language. That was painless, but when we got back to our hotel, I tried to chat up the desk clerk, who appeared to know English. I asked if she was married to the owner, who turned out to be her father. I asked if the kids running around earlier were hers, to which she said "What, do I look old enough to have those kids?" Uh..maybe not the 14 year old, but...uh...your dad could have married a much younger woman? " I'm his daughter," she says. I tried a few more charming remarks, but had to be bailed out by Laura.
Riding a bike couldn't get a whole lot better though. Bike path almost all of the way. Farms, fruit trees, riverbank, Hungarian back yards, palisades and gauntlets of 200 year old trees, castles up on the hills. The rear wheel on Laura's bike is now so far from true I have had to release the brake to avoid rubbing.
After a 24 hour interruption, we have made it to Budapest! Much to say about the wind up of the trip, but Internet is hard to come by so I will write another up to date post when I can. High fives to Laura.
A shower and walk downtown improves the spirits, and a lucky Skype conversation with the kids and grandkids, mixed with multiple Hungarian beers at the zentro square completes a really nice day.
We had a gyro at a street shop for dinner, where I stumbled my way through the menu with sign language. That was painless, but when we got back to our hotel, I tried to chat up the desk clerk, who appeared to know English. I asked if she was married to the owner, who turned out to be her father. I asked if the kids running around earlier were hers, to which she said "What, do I look old enough to have those kids?" Uh..maybe not the 14 year old, but...uh...your dad could have married a much younger woman? " I'm his daughter," she says. I tried a few more charming remarks, but had to be bailed out by Laura.
Riding a bike couldn't get a whole lot better though. Bike path almost all of the way. Farms, fruit trees, riverbank, Hungarian back yards, palisades and gauntlets of 200 year old trees, castles up on the hills. The rear wheel on Laura's bike is now so far from true I have had to release the brake to avoid rubbing.
After a 24 hour interruption, we have made it to Budapest! Much to say about the wind up of the trip, but Internet is hard to come by so I will write another up to date post when I can. High fives to Laura.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Daily Routine
We are still in Hungary this morning. The sun comes up about three o'clock here. Must be because we are at the eastern end of this time zone. This is about as far east as we plan to go, as we turn south today along the Danube towards Budapest.
As the riding goes on, we have a generally established pattern. Up for breakfast at 7 or so, with the sun high in the sky, and down to a breakfast set up as part of our overnight accommodations. Always the same thing, bread, cheese, sliced meats, juice. The only complaint is the difference in coffee habits. The endless refills I am used to have turned into a doll house sized cup with maybe four sips in it. Usually we ask for one more, but after that it begins to look like we are high maintenance.
We are on the road around nine, with map in hand. Everything we have is on our backs, so packing up is easy. We usually can scam a sandwich for lunch from the breakfast fare, so we ride until we see a good cafe for a break or until we stop by the trail for lunch. Distances between town are short, and even with sightseeing we stop by late afternoon.
Laundry has been an issue. Coming in hot and sweaty, clothes streaked with sweat stains and just a wee bit pungent, we try to wash out the salt and smell in the shower or sink. Most of our overnights do not provide any soap or shampoo in the bathrooms, so we use our dwindling supply of shampoo, all of the three ounces TSA would let us fly with. Last night we found a Tesco, a Hungarian style Super Target, and resupplied with sunscreen, wine, and eastern European culture. One of the highlights of Laura's entire trip.v
Without a set itinerary, afternoons bring the surprise of the day. Where will we stay in this town we have been trying to get to all day, and how much trouble will we have trying to get what we want. Language, cost, location, wifi, vacancy. Somehow we have always managed to find really nice people, and only once I think were we surprised at what we ended up with. That was at a hostel type place just like a college dorm room.
Today we plan to cross back over the river to the Slovak side to ride, then back to Hungary to spend the night in Esztergom. It has started out bright and sunny. I know the pig roast fiesta is today, so I hope you all get the same nice day back there in Denver. Save a little of that cheek meat for us.
As the riding goes on, we have a generally established pattern. Up for breakfast at 7 or so, with the sun high in the sky, and down to a breakfast set up as part of our overnight accommodations. Always the same thing, bread, cheese, sliced meats, juice. The only complaint is the difference in coffee habits. The endless refills I am used to have turned into a doll house sized cup with maybe four sips in it. Usually we ask for one more, but after that it begins to look like we are high maintenance.
We are on the road around nine, with map in hand. Everything we have is on our backs, so packing up is easy. We usually can scam a sandwich for lunch from the breakfast fare, so we ride until we see a good cafe for a break or until we stop by the trail for lunch. Distances between town are short, and even with sightseeing we stop by late afternoon.
Laundry has been an issue. Coming in hot and sweaty, clothes streaked with sweat stains and just a wee bit pungent, we try to wash out the salt and smell in the shower or sink. Most of our overnights do not provide any soap or shampoo in the bathrooms, so we use our dwindling supply of shampoo, all of the three ounces TSA would let us fly with. Last night we found a Tesco, a Hungarian style Super Target, and resupplied with sunscreen, wine, and eastern European culture. One of the highlights of Laura's entire trip.v
Without a set itinerary, afternoons bring the surprise of the day. Where will we stay in this town we have been trying to get to all day, and how much trouble will we have trying to get what we want. Language, cost, location, wifi, vacancy. Somehow we have always managed to find really nice people, and only once I think were we surprised at what we ended up with. That was at a hostel type place just like a college dorm room.
Today we plan to cross back over the river to the Slovak side to ride, then back to Hungary to spend the night in Esztergom. It has started out bright and sunny. I know the pig roast fiesta is today, so I hope you all get the same nice day back there in Denver. Save a little of that cheek meat for us.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The Cold War
We have only seen a few reminders of how things were here in Hungary fifty-five years ago. Buildings the length of city blocks that look like my old high school, formed from cement, with no frills or imagination, built to blend in with the masses. And just a few stories of how everyone had the same jeans, the same cars, the same toys, the only selection being which one of three or four colors you might want.
Things have changed so much now that I am sure Louis Vidokovits wouldn't know his own homeland. He fled Hungary in 1956 to escape from the communist regime. As fate unwound, I became one of the lucky ones fortunate enough to be a part of his new life in America. Sadly, I never knew anything else about him, and was too uninterested to ask. He organized and motivated, whipping a dozen kids into a fairly decent soccer team, and playing hero to me and about twelve of my friends as our coach, starting in about 1965.
I know what has come of a few of those buddies. Some I have lost track of, and some have died. Roy, Skip, Phil, Mike, Geoff, where have you gone? But most of all I wonder about Louis. I remember hearing that he fled Hungary in 1956, along with 200,000 other refuges, when the Politburo sent Soviet troops in to suppress a revolution. Most were students, and he would have been about 25 at the time. I never asked about the details.
These days, with crowds of parents pleading and coaching from the sidelines, it's hard to remember how easy it was to make out Louis' deep voice from the sideline. "Pass und go!" Shuud it!" "Get der first!" "You vill be fine!" "Show dem how guud you are!"
We came across the Hungarian border from Slovakia, without even a passport check. The only excitement was when Laura fell down a side hill as she tried to stop for a turn. We are now in Gyor, an old town at the junction of three rivers. Using Florints for currency, at an exchange rate of 187 to one. Hard to count change when the clerk fills your hand with coins. Last night a big storm came through, knocking out all power in our little "pension" called the Buda.
The Hungarians have been very patient with our language problems, trying their best to use English. They apologize when trying to find a word, and I try to say I am the one who doesn't know the language, not them! Anyway I think about Louis while I am here, finding it hard to imagine him as an 80 year old man. But heroes never die, as long as they still exist in someone's mind.
Things have changed so much now that I am sure Louis Vidokovits wouldn't know his own homeland. He fled Hungary in 1956 to escape from the communist regime. As fate unwound, I became one of the lucky ones fortunate enough to be a part of his new life in America. Sadly, I never knew anything else about him, and was too uninterested to ask. He organized and motivated, whipping a dozen kids into a fairly decent soccer team, and playing hero to me and about twelve of my friends as our coach, starting in about 1965.
I know what has come of a few of those buddies. Some I have lost track of, and some have died. Roy, Skip, Phil, Mike, Geoff, where have you gone? But most of all I wonder about Louis. I remember hearing that he fled Hungary in 1956, along with 200,000 other refuges, when the Politburo sent Soviet troops in to suppress a revolution. Most were students, and he would have been about 25 at the time. I never asked about the details.
These days, with crowds of parents pleading and coaching from the sidelines, it's hard to remember how easy it was to make out Louis' deep voice from the sideline. "Pass und go!" Shuud it!" "Get der first!" "You vill be fine!" "Show dem how guud you are!"
We came across the Hungarian border from Slovakia, without even a passport check. The only excitement was when Laura fell down a side hill as she tried to stop for a turn. We are now in Gyor, an old town at the junction of three rivers. Using Florints for currency, at an exchange rate of 187 to one. Hard to count change when the clerk fills your hand with coins. Last night a big storm came through, knocking out all power in our little "pension" called the Buda.
The Hungarians have been very patient with our language problems, trying their best to use English. They apologize when trying to find a word, and I try to say I am the one who doesn't know the language, not them! Anyway I think about Louis while I am here, finding it hard to imagine him as an 80 year old man. But heroes never die, as long as they still exist in someone's mind.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
World Shaker
Gabcikova, Slovakia is not a well known town in the annals of history. But under communist rule, the government built a massive dike and dam for power production just outside of this little village. We rode that dike for seemingly endless miles in the hot sun today. Here we sit on a warm Slovak evening drinking beer and soaking up the atmosphere. "A picture is worth a thousand words."
The morning was spent in Bratislava, Capitol of the country. I spent most of the time looking for cannonballs embedded in the walls, evidence of Napoleon Bonaparte's bombardment of the city in 1809. "History is written by the winners." Around the time of the bombardment, other more familiar events were taking place. George Washington died in 1799, Thomas Jefferson became president in 1801, and Lewis and Clark started out in 1803.
So I got to thinking. The man was born in 1769 on the island of Corsica, and quickly rose up the ranks of the French army. As a general, he was a military genius, eventually becoming emperor of a vast empire. He led a full life in between battles, with multiple wives but only one son. After trying to add Russia to his territory, his army was weakened to the point that he lost at Waterloo to the Duke of Wellington in 1815. "Men are moved by two levers only: fear and self interest."
Exiled to elba, he escaped after a few years, only to be exiled once more, for good this time to St. Helena, an island in one of the most isolated places on earth in the middle of the south Atlantic. "Nothing is more difficult, and therefore more precious, than to be able to decide." He is credited with introducing the metric system into Europe as well as the civil code of justice we use today.
And showing what a wise man he was, sometime before he died in 1821 of stomach cancer he also said, "A woman laughing is a woman conquered." All of the quotes above came from him, but I think the one that says the most follows:
"The soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home and in his regiment; yet he lay there deserted by all except his dog. I looked on, unmoved by battles which brought death to thousands. Yet here I was stirred, profoundly stirred, stirred by tears. And by what? By the grief of one dog.
Napoleon, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master, licking his face and howling, on a moonlit field after a battle. He was haunted by this scene until his own death.
The morning was spent in Bratislava, Capitol of the country. I spent most of the time looking for cannonballs embedded in the walls, evidence of Napoleon Bonaparte's bombardment of the city in 1809. "History is written by the winners." Around the time of the bombardment, other more familiar events were taking place. George Washington died in 1799, Thomas Jefferson became president in 1801, and Lewis and Clark started out in 1803.
So I got to thinking. The man was born in 1769 on the island of Corsica, and quickly rose up the ranks of the French army. As a general, he was a military genius, eventually becoming emperor of a vast empire. He led a full life in between battles, with multiple wives but only one son. After trying to add Russia to his territory, his army was weakened to the point that he lost at Waterloo to the Duke of Wellington in 1815. "Men are moved by two levers only: fear and self interest."
Exiled to elba, he escaped after a few years, only to be exiled once more, for good this time to St. Helena, an island in one of the most isolated places on earth in the middle of the south Atlantic. "Nothing is more difficult, and therefore more precious, than to be able to decide." He is credited with introducing the metric system into Europe as well as the civil code of justice we use today.
And showing what a wise man he was, sometime before he died in 1821 of stomach cancer he also said, "A woman laughing is a woman conquered." All of the quotes above came from him, but I think the one that says the most follows:
"The soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home and in his regiment; yet he lay there deserted by all except his dog. I looked on, unmoved by battles which brought death to thousands. Yet here I was stirred, profoundly stirred, stirred by tears. And by what? By the grief of one dog.
Napoleon, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master, licking his face and howling, on a moonlit field after a battle. He was haunted by this scene until his own death.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Psychoanalysis
Vienna. The home of Sigmund Freud. I walked over to his old house and office today to check out the place where he lived and worked most of his life. For the last two days we have covered most of Vienna's inner city, where all of the interesting sites are to be found.
We spent much of the morning at the Hapsburg compound, a sprawling complex of gigantic baroque buildings with parks and statues sprinkled throughout. Inside we got to lay our eyes on the actual apartments, offices, and bathrooms they used during a six hundred year reign over a vast portion of Europe. It all fell apart when Archduke Ferdinand, an heir to the throne, was assassinated, causing a world war which the Austrian side lost. Their empire was divied up among the victors.
But in the 18th and 19th centuries they were the richest family in the world, and it showed. Nothing was spared as far as luxury or opulence. While America was fighting our civil war they were rolling merrily along building a very fancy palace, inside a very fancy city. Now all of the world class power is gone, but what do they care? The culture of royalty remains; wide tree lined boulevards, statues on every corner, parks, fountains, roofs lined with more statues, opera, concerts, outdoor cafes on most every sidewalk.
In this atmosphere Sigmund practiced his therapy. Born in 1856 in Moravia, now a part of the Czech republic, his family moved to Vienna. They made it through one world war, but the second one wasn't so kind. His four sisters died in concentration camps, and he was forced to flee from the Nazis in 1938. After being in London for only one year, a previously diagnosed cancer flared up, and he asked his doctor to perform a Kervorkian. On September 22 and 23, 1939, he was given major doses of morphine, and he died on September 23.
Come to Vienna and you can learn all this and more! Tomorrow we leave for Budapest, with about five stops in between. We bought a new map to help with route finding, because Hungarian is not our strong point. Laundry is fresh, butts are normal again, attitudes are adjusted. Along the way we can think about one of S. Freud's famous quotes. "We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love."
We spent much of the morning at the Hapsburg compound, a sprawling complex of gigantic baroque buildings with parks and statues sprinkled throughout. Inside we got to lay our eyes on the actual apartments, offices, and bathrooms they used during a six hundred year reign over a vast portion of Europe. It all fell apart when Archduke Ferdinand, an heir to the throne, was assassinated, causing a world war which the Austrian side lost. Their empire was divied up among the victors.
But in the 18th and 19th centuries they were the richest family in the world, and it showed. Nothing was spared as far as luxury or opulence. While America was fighting our civil war they were rolling merrily along building a very fancy palace, inside a very fancy city. Now all of the world class power is gone, but what do they care? The culture of royalty remains; wide tree lined boulevards, statues on every corner, parks, fountains, roofs lined with more statues, opera, concerts, outdoor cafes on most every sidewalk.
In this atmosphere Sigmund practiced his therapy. Born in 1856 in Moravia, now a part of the Czech republic, his family moved to Vienna. They made it through one world war, but the second one wasn't so kind. His four sisters died in concentration camps, and he was forced to flee from the Nazis in 1938. After being in London for only one year, a previously diagnosed cancer flared up, and he asked his doctor to perform a Kervorkian. On September 22 and 23, 1939, he was given major doses of morphine, and he died on September 23.
Come to Vienna and you can learn all this and more! Tomorrow we leave for Budapest, with about five stops in between. We bought a new map to help with route finding, because Hungarian is not our strong point. Laundry is fresh, butts are normal again, attitudes are adjusted. Along the way we can think about one of S. Freud's famous quotes. "We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love."
Is Tiger Woods done?
Father's day came and went, and I spent much of the day thinking about my two little boys, who aren't so little anymore. Being in Vienna means missing them, but no matter what they've made me feel really lucky.
So it's on to a bright Monday morning, looking out the window of the hotel at a bustling street. We have been playing tourist for a couple of days here, and today will be more of the same. The Hapsburg palace is impressive, and this is quite a town. We have seen opera, listened to an organ concert inside an ancient cathedral, and been through an art museum. I would like to visit Sigmund Freud's museum and house today. Perhaps a little therapy will rub off on me.
Tomorrow we plan to leave town with a little lunch in the packs, and make it to somewhere in the vicinity of Bratislava. For now I have to get started on the day, so I will cut this a little short. More tomorrow morning before we leave. Once we are out of Austria I am pretty sure Internet service will become a little spotty.
So it's on to a bright Monday morning, looking out the window of the hotel at a bustling street. We have been playing tourist for a couple of days here, and today will be more of the same. The Hapsburg palace is impressive, and this is quite a town. We have seen opera, listened to an organ concert inside an ancient cathedral, and been through an art museum. I would like to visit Sigmund Freud's museum and house today. Perhaps a little therapy will rub off on me.
Tomorrow we plan to leave town with a little lunch in the packs, and make it to somewhere in the vicinity of Bratislava. For now I have to get started on the day, so I will cut this a little short. More tomorrow morning before we leave. Once we are out of Austria I am pretty sure Internet service will become a little spotty.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Attila
Woke up to a dark morning, but the overcast never amounted to anything. Nice and warm as we rode through the little village of Durnstein, where Richard the Lionhearted was imprisoned for a short time in 1192. He wasn't going to chisel his way out of those three foot stone walls, for sure, but they let him go because of political reasons. The guy was 6 ft. 4in tall, and foolishly brave. Eventually he died from a wound suffered because he wasn't wearing his armor.
The towns we pass through now are full of narrow alleyways, gothic arches, Roman towers and walls, and Churches that are sometimes as old as 300 AD. Other monasteries and abbeys, along with old castles that are high up on hills, look down on us, but usually we do not want to climb up the long hills to take a closer look. As one guy told us recently, castles look good from the outside, but inside they are just a bunch of cold gloomy rocks.
After a 74k ride today we are spending the night in a little town on the Donau called Tulln. This is the place where Attila the Hun met his future bride Gudrun. A statue along the river celebrates the event. Attila came through here raping and pillaging on one of his conquests back in the 5th century. The guy owned territory from the Rhine all the way to Constantinople, and from the Danube to the Baltic Sea. But never could defeat Saladin in Turkey or take down Rome. And he died on his wedding night after drinking heavily, passing out flat on his back, and choking on his own blood from a massive nosebleed. The statue here shows him as a big nice looking guy with a Fu Manchu.
Need a little lube for Laura's chain, but otherwise the trusty bikes are holding up. We hit Vienna today. After days of quiet in the countryside, we can now hear airplanes on final to the big city. We could use a little culture, so here we go.
The towns we pass through now are full of narrow alleyways, gothic arches, Roman towers and walls, and Churches that are sometimes as old as 300 AD. Other monasteries and abbeys, along with old castles that are high up on hills, look down on us, but usually we do not want to climb up the long hills to take a closer look. As one guy told us recently, castles look good from the outside, but inside they are just a bunch of cold gloomy rocks.
After a 74k ride today we are spending the night in a little town on the Donau called Tulln. This is the place where Attila the Hun met his future bride Gudrun. A statue along the river celebrates the event. Attila came through here raping and pillaging on one of his conquests back in the 5th century. The guy owned territory from the Rhine all the way to Constantinople, and from the Danube to the Baltic Sea. But never could defeat Saladin in Turkey or take down Rome. And he died on his wedding night after drinking heavily, passing out flat on his back, and choking on his own blood from a massive nosebleed. The statue here shows him as a big nice looking guy with a Fu Manchu.
Need a little lube for Laura's chain, but otherwise the trusty bikes are holding up. We hit Vienna today. After days of quiet in the countryside, we can now hear airplanes on final to the big city. We could use a little culture, so here we go.
Happy Birthday Tim 33
Not real easy to write these posts. Internet is spotty, so I have to put them into notes on the iPad and copy them in when I get a chance. And getting on long enough to post a picture on Facebook is tough, because we need a wireless connection for a longer time, which can be a challenge.
As bike time goes, we have actually been in the saddle for about seven hours each of the last two days. We've changed the angle of Laura's seat a couple of times, moved it back and forth a few more, lightened the pack, paid attention to stopping for breaks, and leaving early to avoid the heat. So we ride about 80 kilometers per day. With our trusty guide book consulted often, we are only lost for short, exciting stretches.
The Donauradweg, as it is known here, is without any doubt the best bike tour ever. No autos, hills, wind, or tour de France wannabes running us over. Just pleasant bikers from around the world out to have a holiday. Cost? Well, this is Europe, where the euro is worth 1.5 dollars. It hurts the pocketbook, but I am going to bike heaven soon anyway where the dollar will be worth nothing. So it' easy for me to say now, after we have been siting in a weingarten for three or four hours, that it is a trip I will remember even in cycle nirvana.
Go to google maps and find Grein, Austria. Follow the Danube downstream and stop at Weissenkirchen. Notice all the vineyards along the Wachau valley. We have been drinking the product of those vines all evening.
Laura here: Lisa ,you would appreciate this. We are at an Austrian winery and are well into the wine...so, no thoughts of dinner! We are not sure what we are drinking but we don't care!! What a setting : we are in a large garden with cream colored walls on three sides, flowers blooming everywhere, hedges, tall,overhanging trees; the birds are singing..
Enough of the bird chirping drivel.... But yeah, this town is the best one yet. Tomorrow it's on to Tulln, if we stick to our semi plan. The next night we will be in Vienna. Our Gausthaus hostess- Ann-Marie Heller- will let me use her connection to post this.....If I learn German overnight.... By tomorrow morning I will be the proud papa of a thirty three year old son. Wish I could give you a big Austrian bear hug Tim, but my skinny little arms won't reach that far.
We finally found a wireless network at a coffee shop! Ordered a beer instead but here goes the post to blog.
As bike time goes, we have actually been in the saddle for about seven hours each of the last two days. We've changed the angle of Laura's seat a couple of times, moved it back and forth a few more, lightened the pack, paid attention to stopping for breaks, and leaving early to avoid the heat. So we ride about 80 kilometers per day. With our trusty guide book consulted often, we are only lost for short, exciting stretches.
The Donauradweg, as it is known here, is without any doubt the best bike tour ever. No autos, hills, wind, or tour de France wannabes running us over. Just pleasant bikers from around the world out to have a holiday. Cost? Well, this is Europe, where the euro is worth 1.5 dollars. It hurts the pocketbook, but I am going to bike heaven soon anyway where the dollar will be worth nothing. So it' easy for me to say now, after we have been siting in a weingarten for three or four hours, that it is a trip I will remember even in cycle nirvana.
Go to google maps and find Grein, Austria. Follow the Danube downstream and stop at Weissenkirchen. Notice all the vineyards along the Wachau valley. We have been drinking the product of those vines all evening.
Laura here: Lisa ,you would appreciate this. We are at an Austrian winery and are well into the wine...so, no thoughts of dinner! We are not sure what we are drinking but we don't care!! What a setting : we are in a large garden with cream colored walls on three sides, flowers blooming everywhere, hedges, tall,overhanging trees; the birds are singing..
Enough of the bird chirping drivel.... But yeah, this town is the best one yet. Tomorrow it's on to Tulln, if we stick to our semi plan. The next night we will be in Vienna. Our Gausthaus hostess- Ann-Marie Heller- will let me use her connection to post this.....If I learn German overnight.... By tomorrow morning I will be the proud papa of a thirty three year old son. Wish I could give you a big Austrian bear hug Tim, but my skinny little arms won't reach that far.
We finally found a wireless network at a coffee shop! Ordered a beer instead but here goes the post to blog.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Keyed up
Started out with a nice pot of coffee at the Gasthaus breakfast spread early this morning. 12:30am Denver time as a matter of fact. Then took off and rode in the early morning through farmlands and canals to Linz. Only about 30k today because we wanted to see Linz. Mozart and hitler both lived here at one time in their lives. Also Kepler, the famous mathematician and astronomer who formulated the law for how planets move through space. We saw their houses, along with an oompah band in the Hauplatz, sitting beside a 400 year old tower in the square.
But the real excitement was caused by my increasing senility. I have already lost a pair of sunglasses by leaving them in a bookstore although we went back in two minutes later and they had disappeared, with virtually no other customers going in or out. Then the other dat we discovered that I was missing a pair of shorts. God only knows where those might have ended up. Alas, today I outdid myself. We went out on the bikes, because this town is too big to walk around. Immediately after locking them up, we walked fifty feet to an apotheke (pharmacy) and then another fifty to a bakery for a strudel. As soon as we left we checked to see if we had all of our stuff, and lo and behold the key to the bike lock was nowhere to be found. Ahhhhhh shit. The bikes were locked together to a streetside rack.
I have a hole in my pocket (too cheap to throw away a pair of shorts for that!) and it must have fallen out. We looked up and down the block ad nauseum, on the sidewalk, street, manholes, gutters. No key. It wasn't out of my pocket for more than 5 minutes, yet it had disappeared, even quicker than I am losing my mind.
We need those bikes........We kind of need to know a little German to get some kind of help. Hardware store for cutters? New lock? Saw? Getting picked up by the cops for ripping apart a lock and taking two bikes from the street which we can't prove are ours? Throwing a fit for being so stupid? All this ran through our minds.
But practicality won out, and I went to the nearest hotel, a nice fancy one, and explained our situation to the clerk. She told us to come back at 5 and a guy would help, and gave us a lead on a sporting goods store. We found it, bought a lock (Laura suggested a combination lock this time), and at 5 returned to the hotel. The bellman reluctantly retrieved a saw, and after verifying we were guests of the hotel, which we were not, and which Laura unhesitatingly lied about, he sawed the lock off. We were home free, except for me beating myself up.
Maybe I need to get a sewing kit.
But the real excitement was caused by my increasing senility. I have already lost a pair of sunglasses by leaving them in a bookstore although we went back in two minutes later and they had disappeared, with virtually no other customers going in or out. Then the other dat we discovered that I was missing a pair of shorts. God only knows where those might have ended up. Alas, today I outdid myself. We went out on the bikes, because this town is too big to walk around. Immediately after locking them up, we walked fifty feet to an apotheke (pharmacy) and then another fifty to a bakery for a strudel. As soon as we left we checked to see if we had all of our stuff, and lo and behold the key to the bike lock was nowhere to be found. Ahhhhhh shit. The bikes were locked together to a streetside rack.
I have a hole in my pocket (too cheap to throw away a pair of shorts for that!) and it must have fallen out. We looked up and down the block ad nauseum, on the sidewalk, street, manholes, gutters. No key. It wasn't out of my pocket for more than 5 minutes, yet it had disappeared, even quicker than I am losing my mind.
We need those bikes........We kind of need to know a little German to get some kind of help. Hardware store for cutters? New lock? Saw? Getting picked up by the cops for ripping apart a lock and taking two bikes from the street which we can't prove are ours? Throwing a fit for being so stupid? All this ran through our minds.
But practicality won out, and I went to the nearest hotel, a nice fancy one, and explained our situation to the clerk. She told us to come back at 5 and a guy would help, and gave us a lead on a sporting goods store. We found it, bought a lock (Laura suggested a combination lock this time), and at 5 returned to the hotel. The bellman reluctantly retrieved a saw, and after verifying we were guests of the hotel, which we were not, and which Laura unhesitatingly lied about, he sawed the lock off. We were home free, except for me beating myself up.
Maybe I need to get a sewing kit.
Linz
We hear about earthquakes in New Zealand, ash clouds over the southern hemisphere, but here in Bavaria we see a river valley from a bike. Not much going on. Breakfast, ride, snack, beer, arrive at a new Austrian village, more beer, dinner, beer, ice cream, bed.
The German language is playing with us. Czech was just impossible. How can a two year old learn it, when they can't tie their shoes yet? They are the smartest people in the world. The rest of us can stick with the Latin based stuff, and try to catch on. It's really fun. I'm at the point now to where I can get a smile out of the locals just by giving a German word a lame attempt.
The ride today involved another look at a church we actually had to see again just to believe, Saint Sebastion church in Passau. Inspires a little awe. The organ music takes you back to Galileo's days. Then on to the little town of Aschach, Austria. A former toll station on the Danube, now a small fishing village. Just try to pronounce Aschach with out the hint of a word you wouldn't say in a convent.
Laura's butt still hurting a bit. Say's it's like siting on a two by four. We may look for a triple gel seat, or perhaps change out my seat for hers. Otherwise the bikes are perfect. Thanks Renata. It's been cloudy, cool, and drizzly here, perfect for a bike ride, and tomorrow we will end up in Linz.
The German language is playing with us. Czech was just impossible. How can a two year old learn it, when they can't tie their shoes yet? They are the smartest people in the world. The rest of us can stick with the Latin based stuff, and try to catch on. It's really fun. I'm at the point now to where I can get a smile out of the locals just by giving a German word a lame attempt.
The ride today involved another look at a church we actually had to see again just to believe, Saint Sebastion church in Passau. Inspires a little awe. The organ music takes you back to Galileo's days. Then on to the little town of Aschach, Austria. A former toll station on the Danube, now a small fishing village. Just try to pronounce Aschach with out the hint of a word you wouldn't say in a convent.
Laura's butt still hurting a bit. Say's it's like siting on a two by four. We may look for a triple gel seat, or perhaps change out my seat for hers. Otherwise the bikes are perfect. Thanks Renata. It's been cloudy, cool, and drizzly here, perfect for a bike ride, and tomorrow we will end up in Linz.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Guten Morgan
Things are returning to normal for our bike tours. Laura has been wondering why I don't eat or drink all day, why I like to walk around looking at old walls, and correcting my poor pronunciation of foreign sounds.
We spent last night at a Gasthaus outside of Schalding, Germany. Rode about 60 kilometers, luckily couldn't find a room in one unattractive town, and so rode on a while to a great with place along the river with a seven foot catfish fresh out of the Danube wallowing in a water tank outside the restaurant. It was starting to rain so we just made it, around six pm.
The food has been really great. Fleisch, schwine, schnitzel, strudel, eis, kaffe, wurst, suppen, speck, brot from the bakeri, plenty of bier and wein, and then more bier, usually dunkel for me. Next time we come here we should study up a bit because it is more fun if you can try the local language even a little. And I think the locals appreciate a try, even if it is butchered. Czech would take about a million lessons from Jana or Renata.
Today we made it to Passau, which is a really neat old town at the junction of the Danube, the Inn, and the Ilz Rivers. A high hill overlooking the confluence is topped by a castle built in the 12th century. Things around here are old, older, and oldest. Some of the walls and buildings have been built by the Romans! Enough about rocks, even if I am amazed at what the old guys could do with thousand pound blocks of granite.
We haven't had time to deal with the picture issue, barely enough Internet time to check email. Service is spotty at best, and with sightseeing and riding, drinking Bavarian beer and showering and sleeping, looking all over town for a connection gets put off. But we got an app that uploads to Facebook, so we will try our best to put some on there.
Route finding has been a no brainer since we started on the Danauradweg. If I lived in Europe I would make it an annual trip. Maybe camp some to save some cash. If riding a bike is fun, this is just the best. No hills at all, scenery from a movie set, and history and good food and beer in the towns. Wish you all could be here with us. Some way or another I am trying to figure out a way to keep the bikes in Europe so we can come back. I will post this in the morning, but after that who knows when the next post will be. We enter Austria tomorrow.
We spent last night at a Gasthaus outside of Schalding, Germany. Rode about 60 kilometers, luckily couldn't find a room in one unattractive town, and so rode on a while to a great with place along the river with a seven foot catfish fresh out of the Danube wallowing in a water tank outside the restaurant. It was starting to rain so we just made it, around six pm.
The food has been really great. Fleisch, schwine, schnitzel, strudel, eis, kaffe, wurst, suppen, speck, brot from the bakeri, plenty of bier and wein, and then more bier, usually dunkel for me. Next time we come here we should study up a bit because it is more fun if you can try the local language even a little. And I think the locals appreciate a try, even if it is butchered. Czech would take about a million lessons from Jana or Renata.
Today we made it to Passau, which is a really neat old town at the junction of the Danube, the Inn, and the Ilz Rivers. A high hill overlooking the confluence is topped by a castle built in the 12th century. Things around here are old, older, and oldest. Some of the walls and buildings have been built by the Romans! Enough about rocks, even if I am amazed at what the old guys could do with thousand pound blocks of granite.
We haven't had time to deal with the picture issue, barely enough Internet time to check email. Service is spotty at best, and with sightseeing and riding, drinking Bavarian beer and showering and sleeping, looking all over town for a connection gets put off. But we got an app that uploads to Facebook, so we will try our best to put some on there.
Route finding has been a no brainer since we started on the Danauradweg. If I lived in Europe I would make it an annual trip. Maybe camp some to save some cash. If riding a bike is fun, this is just the best. No hills at all, scenery from a movie set, and history and good food and beer in the towns. Wish you all could be here with us. Some way or another I am trying to figure out a way to keep the bikes in Europe so we can come back. I will post this in the morning, but after that who knows when the next post will be. We enter Austria tomorrow.
No cars!
We trained it out of Czech. After going over our options, it was going to take up too much time if we biked it all the way to Regensburg. Too much uncertainty with the trail markings, with too much of a lack of us knowing one word in Czech to ask for help. The random pedestrian in Prague knew a little English, but out in the countryside not so much. So we had visions of two weeks in the beautiful Czech forests, when we only had about two days left in our schedule to meet up with the Danube.
So we Luger the trains on to the train, where we assumed that for our five euro for each bike there would be somewhere to put them. But when we got hustled them onto the train, we got no further than the entryway. Any further would have required dismantling the bikes to fit in the narrow hallway. So we blocked the restrooms and doors, one bike in the way of two different doors each. The conductor just walked by each time, and didn't seem to mind. But after we came back once to check, people had moved them to use the loo, and they were now sprawled across the only way in or out of the car.
It ended up being a blessing in disguise, because Laura insisted on moving to a different car closer to the problem bicycles. There we met Lou and Manuela, two Germans from Chom who were nice enough to give us a personal tour of Regensburg when we arrived. It would be hard to find two nicer Europeans, except for our other new friends Renata and Jana from Prague.
The bikes that Renata acquired for us have worked out great. I talked Laura into switching back in Czech republic, and that helped. Since then we have tilted the seat forward and moved it closer to her hands. My pack has a few more items in it now which helped also. Today we rode about forty five miles, and she can still walk normally. Yesterday we rode about thirty five and things weren't so good.
Last night we stayed in Bogen, Germany. Very Bavarian. A nice little Gasthaus with breakfast included. The Danube is a stones throw away all along the bike path, and it is the most wonderful riding! How could it get any better than a smooth path with no auto traffic, fabulous scenery, a tailwind, and a smooth running machine between your legs?
Tonight we are in a little Gasthaus on the river just short of Schalding. Still in Germany. Tomorrow we will plan on getting to Passau, a border town with Austria directly across the Danube.
Internet service has been surprisingly hard to come by. No wireless anywhere, no service in the hotels, and once in a while an Internet station where you pay for a certain amount of time on their computers. I am trying to paste the blog in from the iPad, so can't put it on yet. We are hoping that in Pasau, a bigger city, we can access some kind of wireless.
Dirk Novitzki is in the papers here, but otherwise we are out of touch, so if the world blow up, hopefully it will spare Bavaria.
So we Luger the trains on to the train, where we assumed that for our five euro for each bike there would be somewhere to put them. But when we got hustled them onto the train, we got no further than the entryway. Any further would have required dismantling the bikes to fit in the narrow hallway. So we blocked the restrooms and doors, one bike in the way of two different doors each. The conductor just walked by each time, and didn't seem to mind. But after we came back once to check, people had moved them to use the loo, and they were now sprawled across the only way in or out of the car.
It ended up being a blessing in disguise, because Laura insisted on moving to a different car closer to the problem bicycles. There we met Lou and Manuela, two Germans from Chom who were nice enough to give us a personal tour of Regensburg when we arrived. It would be hard to find two nicer Europeans, except for our other new friends Renata and Jana from Prague.
The bikes that Renata acquired for us have worked out great. I talked Laura into switching back in Czech republic, and that helped. Since then we have tilted the seat forward and moved it closer to her hands. My pack has a few more items in it now which helped also. Today we rode about forty five miles, and she can still walk normally. Yesterday we rode about thirty five and things weren't so good.
Last night we stayed in Bogen, Germany. Very Bavarian. A nice little Gasthaus with breakfast included. The Danube is a stones throw away all along the bike path, and it is the most wonderful riding! How could it get any better than a smooth path with no auto traffic, fabulous scenery, a tailwind, and a smooth running machine between your legs?
Tonight we are in a little Gasthaus on the river just short of Schalding. Still in Germany. Tomorrow we will plan on getting to Passau, a border town with Austria directly across the Danube.
Internet service has been surprisingly hard to come by. No wireless anywhere, no service in the hotels, and once in a while an Internet station where you pay for a certain amount of time on their computers. I am trying to paste the blog in from the iPad, so can't put it on yet. We are hoping that in Pasau, a bigger city, we can access some kind of wireless.
Dirk Novitzki is in the papers here, but otherwise we are out of touch, so if the world blow up, hopefully it will spare Bavaria.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Spotty
We are still alive, but internet service is so spotty that we haven"t been able to post anything. Riding now in Germany, in Bogen, Bavaria. Close to the Austrian border. This keyboard is very European, and causing me much consternation.
After taking the train from Plzen to Regensburg, we have now encountered wonderful riding along the Danube River. Met a really nice German couple who showed us around Regensburg. Thank you Lou and Manuela for a great tour. We may stop in and see you in Chom on our way back to Frankfurt.....
This is not on my ipad and I am running out of time, so until I can do better we will be thinking of all of you.
After taking the train from Plzen to Regensburg, we have now encountered wonderful riding along the Danube River. Met a really nice German couple who showed us around Regensburg. Thank you Lou and Manuela for a great tour. We may stop in and see you in Chom on our way back to Frankfurt.....
This is not on my ipad and I am running out of time, so until I can do better we will be thinking of all of you.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
I lost my sunglasses today
All is well in Plzen. Got a great deal at the Marriott here, thanks to our daughter Carrie. Not alot of Czech culture here, but we were worn out today with the communication barrier anyway. Needed quite a bit of help today with directions, and just ran across too many folks who seemed like they'd rather not have us around when we only speak English. It's kind of funny when we ask a random pedestrian and they pretend to not notice us, or wave us away like we are asking for a donation. But people at information kiosks or merchants might try to understand that we wouldn't be asking if we didn't have a problem!
Laura found a friendly couple of clerks to help get us directions through Plzen to our hotel, and we are across the street from the famous old brewery. So we are rallying after a shower, out to eat at a pizza and pasta place a few blocks away. American music, Italian food, Czech waitress ...she is very nice and the food is really good- we wolfed it- hungry anyone?!
Pilsner was invented right here. But to get here we left Beroun on a nasty no shoulder road after working to find a route to ride. We switched bikes after an hour of slow, into the wind hills where Laura battled a little of everything. Voila, all better. Then we found the E3 bike trail in Rokycany (try pronouncing it correctly) and the riding began through the forest over hill and dale. Every dale deep in the cool lush forest, every hill having a beautiful view of the red roofed villages and rolling green fields. Both our butts are ravaged, rosier than the fields of red poppies we rode past. And much happier off the bike than on.
Now a decision has to be made about tomorrow. Can't do another eight hour ride, or Laura will get on the first train to Paris. We are trying to determine if the E3 continues west from here into Germany. Or may train it out of Czech.
After a couple of glasses of wine, Laura has inserted some of the above prose. Any guesses which turns of words are hers? And sorry, photos will be on fb.....uugh
Laura found a friendly couple of clerks to help get us directions through Plzen to our hotel, and we are across the street from the famous old brewery. So we are rallying after a shower, out to eat at a pizza and pasta place a few blocks away. American music, Italian food, Czech waitress ...she is very nice and the food is really good- we wolfed it- hungry anyone?!
Pilsner was invented right here. But to get here we left Beroun on a nasty no shoulder road after working to find a route to ride. We switched bikes after an hour of slow, into the wind hills where Laura battled a little of everything. Voila, all better. Then we found the E3 bike trail in Rokycany (try pronouncing it correctly) and the riding began through the forest over hill and dale. Every dale deep in the cool lush forest, every hill having a beautiful view of the red roofed villages and rolling green fields. Both our butts are ravaged, rosier than the fields of red poppies we rode past. And much happier off the bike than on.
Now a decision has to be made about tomorrow. Can't do another eight hour ride, or Laura will get on the first train to Paris. We are trying to determine if the E3 continues west from here into Germany. Or may train it out of Czech.
After a couple of glasses of wine, Laura has inserted some of the above prose. Any guesses which turns of words are hers? And sorry, photos will be on fb.....uugh
New bike seats
Cemetery, dr Franz Kafka , Zizka hill, bar on top, storm, dogs, lizard, gothic church, walk to river, swans,storm at night.
We found a little adventure. Pretty whipped right now after a day of hot riding. But things are looking up after a shower and the prospect of a nice dinner.
Yesterday was pretty routine, our day spent mostly with the dead. We toured the Prague cemetery out in the east part of town. Found the grave of Franz Kafka, along with many other famous Czech heroes. I wanted to find the largest horse sculpture in the world, so we looked into it by visiting Zizka Hill. Or so we thought, until we arrived at the top of the hill in a rainstorm and spotted the giant cement horse about a half mile away.
Hustling into a garage sized building, to get of of the rain, we found ourselves inside a small bar, and ordered two Kozel drafts. The bar was more than full, with people along with seven or eight dogs, and an iguana type lizard in a bag next to us.
In the middle of last another t-storm blew through, this one dumping hail. So things were a little damp when we started out with our new friend, who kindly rode with us for a couple of hours to guide us out of Prague. Things were simple until she left us to take the train back home. But not soon after she left we became lost at a muddy dead end, only to take a few more wrong junctions. At each impossible choice we would stop to ask for help. Using sign language only. Our Czech is minimal. We know ano, ahoy, and most. So we wave the map and start a painful process. But all the people are patient with us, and there is no reason they should know a word of English
Karlstein Castle finally appeared, and we took the tour, learning about King Charles and his wives. Back in the saddle for Beroun, where it took us an hour and three or four tries to find a room. I'm writing next morning from the Ostrovo Hotel, located on the river. Kids are playing outside our window. Beroun is a very pretty town, and the countryside along the ride has been as green, hilly, and perfect as it could be. No wonder this area has been fought over so many times.
We plan to make Plzen tonight, if all goes to plan. The new bike seats should make for an interesting day.
We found a little adventure. Pretty whipped right now after a day of hot riding. But things are looking up after a shower and the prospect of a nice dinner.
Yesterday was pretty routine, our day spent mostly with the dead. We toured the Prague cemetery out in the east part of town. Found the grave of Franz Kafka, along with many other famous Czech heroes. I wanted to find the largest horse sculpture in the world, so we looked into it by visiting Zizka Hill. Or so we thought, until we arrived at the top of the hill in a rainstorm and spotted the giant cement horse about a half mile away.
Hustling into a garage sized building, to get of of the rain, we found ourselves inside a small bar, and ordered two Kozel drafts. The bar was more than full, with people along with seven or eight dogs, and an iguana type lizard in a bag next to us.
In the middle of last another t-storm blew through, this one dumping hail. So things were a little damp when we started out with our new friend, who kindly rode with us for a couple of hours to guide us out of Prague. Things were simple until she left us to take the train back home. But not soon after she left we became lost at a muddy dead end, only to take a few more wrong junctions. At each impossible choice we would stop to ask for help. Using sign language only. Our Czech is minimal. We know ano, ahoy, and most. So we wave the map and start a painful process. But all the people are patient with us, and there is no reason they should know a word of English
Karlstein Castle finally appeared, and we took the tour, learning about King Charles and his wives. Back in the saddle for Beroun, where it took us an hour and three or four tries to find a room. I'm writing next morning from the Ostrovo Hotel, located on the river. Kids are playing outside our window. Beroun is a very pretty town, and the countryside along the ride has been as green, hilly, and perfect as it could be. No wonder this area has been fought over so many times.
We plan to make Plzen tonight, if all goes to plan. The new bike seats should make for an interesting day.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Stalin
Good morning Dora. Happy birthday! We will be thinking about you all day. Have a big party today and blow out all the candles.
Last night's meal was sketchy. We decided to try a small outdoor cafe down the street from our hotel based on a raving recommendation from a British couple I talked to. Doesn't say much for what they are used to if this was a place they would return to. Laura picked through a potato pancake with chicken and cheese on top, and I wolfed down a platter full of spaghetti with spinach and Parmesan cheese on top. Worst thing really was the unfriendly service. Not exactly rude, but surly enough to leave a bad impression.
Public transportation in Prague is very efficient, and with our handy universal pass we hop on anything that moves and travel all over town. Yesterday we made our way down to the old Jewish town, where they had a town within a town of their own back in the 1600's. Then across the Vlatava to a spot high above where a giant metronome slowly fans back and forth, built on the site where fifty years ago stood the world's largest statue of Joe Stalin. It was blown up after the fall of communism.
As a stopgap measure, we are going to post photos to Laura's Facebook page. The first three should be on there...... On to the Prague Apple store for help with posting photos to the blog. We are halfway there, but haven't succeeded yet. Spent much of the afternoon trying to find an app to help, but no luck so far. Funny how the server here puts Czech or Russian on the screen at random times. How can a person use google translator when the instructions are indecipherable?
On to the subject of WC's, as they call them here. Public toilets are pay as you go, so to say, some with attendants, some with toll booths. Of course we don't have proper, if any, coins. So it's best to use a restaurant or bar, and these are located in the bowels of the establishment, probably to discourage use by passersby. Built in what apparently were former pay phone booth sized closets, these privies force you to squeeze past the door to close it, wedge yourself between the sink and wall, and sit on a toilet the size of a competition frisbee. The ubiquitous round brush is necessary at times because the drain out the bottom of the bowl has the diameter of a Czech coin. Forget about reaching and ripping the toilet paper while seated, this requires twisting and reaching for the roll. But they've been clean, and no graffiti so far.
We leave Prague tomorrow morning on our bikes. Adventure awaits.
Last night's meal was sketchy. We decided to try a small outdoor cafe down the street from our hotel based on a raving recommendation from a British couple I talked to. Doesn't say much for what they are used to if this was a place they would return to. Laura picked through a potato pancake with chicken and cheese on top, and I wolfed down a platter full of spaghetti with spinach and Parmesan cheese on top. Worst thing really was the unfriendly service. Not exactly rude, but surly enough to leave a bad impression.
Public transportation in Prague is very efficient, and with our handy universal pass we hop on anything that moves and travel all over town. Yesterday we made our way down to the old Jewish town, where they had a town within a town of their own back in the 1600's. Then across the Vlatava to a spot high above where a giant metronome slowly fans back and forth, built on the site where fifty years ago stood the world's largest statue of Joe Stalin. It was blown up after the fall of communism.
As a stopgap measure, we are going to post photos to Laura's Facebook page. The first three should be on there...... On to the Prague Apple store for help with posting photos to the blog. We are halfway there, but haven't succeeded yet. Spent much of the afternoon trying to find an app to help, but no luck so far. Funny how the server here puts Czech or Russian on the screen at random times. How can a person use google translator when the instructions are indecipherable?
On to the subject of WC's, as they call them here. Public toilets are pay as you go, so to say, some with attendants, some with toll booths. Of course we don't have proper, if any, coins. So it's best to use a restaurant or bar, and these are located in the bowels of the establishment, probably to discourage use by passersby. Built in what apparently were former pay phone booth sized closets, these privies force you to squeeze past the door to close it, wedge yourself between the sink and wall, and sit on a toilet the size of a competition frisbee. The ubiquitous round brush is necessary at times because the drain out the bottom of the bowl has the diameter of a Czech coin. Forget about reaching and ripping the toilet paper while seated, this requires twisting and reaching for the roll. But they've been clean, and no graffiti so far.
We leave Prague tomorrow morning on our bikes. Adventure awaits.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
The Baby Eiffel Tower
Russian, British, American, German, Polish, Japanese, Spanish, Italian, and many others of unknown origin. We've seen them all, heard them all, along with many more. If New York is the melting pot of the U.S., then Prague is surely the same for eastern Europe.
And we are actually catching on to a little of the language after a lesson from our new American friend Don out in the south end of town. We travelled out to Haje yesterday to pay Renata for our new transportation, a pair of bicycles she found for us on the Czech Craigs list. Renata's sister Lucy is married to an American who loves to talk, and he gave us a lesson on the strange words we try to decipher. The bikes are perfect, and I will do my best to provide pictures.
This region is at the center of Bohemia. The word comes from the name of an old tribe of people the Romans conquered around the turn of the century. The first century. Ever since, there has been a city here on a bend of the Vlatava river. We watched tour boats plying the river last night below the Charles bridge, the most famous landmark in Prague. After a Thai curry dinner down in old town, preceded by a two hour drinking session at an Irish pub, we were challenged with the job of getting home on the trolley. Finding the connections and
stops, combined with correct rail lines can be a litle rough.
Earlier we had climbed the steps of a mini Eiffel tower, built for a Czech exhibition. It sits on a commanding hill above the river and the town. A funicular carried us up to the base, up a high hill above the water.
Renata is working on finding us a bike friendly route out of Prague, and we plan to meet out at her place on Tuesday to depart the metro area and into the countryside. Pictures are a must for the blog, we are working on strategies. This is a beautiful city, deserves at least a few pictures! I am writing this over a cup of coffee on a quiet Sunday morning, and the computer shows two am in Denver. Can't think about that or it will make you crazy.
And we are actually catching on to a little of the language after a lesson from our new American friend Don out in the south end of town. We travelled out to Haje yesterday to pay Renata for our new transportation, a pair of bicycles she found for us on the Czech Craigs list. Renata's sister Lucy is married to an American who loves to talk, and he gave us a lesson on the strange words we try to decipher. The bikes are perfect, and I will do my best to provide pictures.
This region is at the center of Bohemia. The word comes from the name of an old tribe of people the Romans conquered around the turn of the century. The first century. Ever since, there has been a city here on a bend of the Vlatava river. We watched tour boats plying the river last night below the Charles bridge, the most famous landmark in Prague. After a Thai curry dinner down in old town, preceded by a two hour drinking session at an Irish pub, we were challenged with the job of getting home on the trolley. Finding the connections and
stops, combined with correct rail lines can be a litle rough.
Earlier we had climbed the steps of a mini Eiffel tower, built for a Czech exhibition. It sits on a commanding hill above the river and the town. A funicular carried us up to the base, up a high hill above the water.
Renata is working on finding us a bike friendly route out of Prague, and we plan to meet out at her place on Tuesday to depart the metro area and into the countryside. Pictures are a must for the blog, we are working on strategies. This is a beautiful city, deserves at least a few pictures! I am writing this over a cup of coffee on a quiet Sunday morning, and the computer shows two am in Denver. Can't think about that or it will make you crazy.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Jet lagged but content
I am sitting out on the back porch of our hotel in Prague, which looks much as it did in the middle ages, only with electricity and Internet. High brick walls surrounded by green gardens. This is the first chance I have had to write a word.
We spent yesterday in Frankfurt, dazed from jet lag. After rallying enough to begin walking, we found the old town very lively due to a holiday having to do with Easter. All fathers are encouraged to get drunk. The ancient town square was alive with street vendors, jugglers, buskers, acrobats, and European people who were ripe for people watching. There were beer bike wagons built for eight people, who sat at a counter on wheels and pedaled around Frankfurt. We crossed the Main River on a romantic old, massive bridge, where lovers pledge everlasting togetherness by attaching engraved padlocks to the railing. The various locks are painted or engraved with the names, along with hearts or plus signs. Some are threaded through the links of chains.
After dinner at an authentic Chinese restaurant, we walked back to an early bedtime, worn out at eight o'clock. After a night with no sleep crammed in a tight seat on a 747, we felt a sense of accomplishment just for making it through the day without a nap. Today was spent on a train and bus to Prague,where we met our new friend Jana. We had arranged to meet at the train station, and she was a big help for two folks not used to the language. We toured the entire historic district with her, and had a nice dinner of goulash, and some other Czech food, the name of which was totally indecipherable. Try the google translator on a few phrases in Czech and you will get an idea of what we are in for as we ride our bikes through the countryside in the next few weeks.
This hotel has Internet down here on the patio, so I will try to keep up the writing. Stay tuned for profiles of famous Czech heroes like Good King Wenceslas and Jan Hus. Lots of old Roman remains also, like the lion with two tails.
I just tried to post a picture with this, but as far as I can tell the IPad won't upload it. I will experiment further see if I can get it done. Hope all is well back in the real world.
We spent yesterday in Frankfurt, dazed from jet lag. After rallying enough to begin walking, we found the old town very lively due to a holiday having to do with Easter. All fathers are encouraged to get drunk. The ancient town square was alive with street vendors, jugglers, buskers, acrobats, and European people who were ripe for people watching. There were beer bike wagons built for eight people, who sat at a counter on wheels and pedaled around Frankfurt. We crossed the Main River on a romantic old, massive bridge, where lovers pledge everlasting togetherness by attaching engraved padlocks to the railing. The various locks are painted or engraved with the names, along with hearts or plus signs. Some are threaded through the links of chains.
After dinner at an authentic Chinese restaurant, we walked back to an early bedtime, worn out at eight o'clock. After a night with no sleep crammed in a tight seat on a 747, we felt a sense of accomplishment just for making it through the day without a nap. Today was spent on a train and bus to Prague,where we met our new friend Jana. We had arranged to meet at the train station, and she was a big help for two folks not used to the language. We toured the entire historic district with her, and had a nice dinner of goulash, and some other Czech food, the name of which was totally indecipherable. Try the google translator on a few phrases in Czech and you will get an idea of what we are in for as we ride our bikes through the countryside in the next few weeks.
This hotel has Internet down here on the patio, so I will try to keep up the writing. Stay tuned for profiles of famous Czech heroes like Good King Wenceslas and Jan Hus. Lots of old Roman remains also, like the lion with two tails.
I just tried to post a picture with this, but as far as I can tell the IPad won't upload it. I will experiment further see if I can get it done. Hope all is well back in the real world.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Bon Voyage
As near as we can figure, the house is prepped for a six week stretch of silence. The two cats will be lonely, if that's possible for a cat.
Our packs are filled with what we have determined are essentials. Whether or not we packed too much or not enough will be determined as we roll down the Danube. We are looking forward to flying to Frankfurt on Singapore Air, which is rated a the #1 airline. We'll see about that.
The next post should be from Frankfurt. If I'm not too jet lagged it might even make some sense. I'm really too ancient for these time warps. When it takes a week to adjust you know you are old.
So we've tried to turn things off for the first half of the summer here. Feels funny, kind of like an Einstein thing where we stop in time and watch from above as the world continues on without us.
Our packs are filled with what we have determined are essentials. Whether or not we packed too much or not enough will be determined as we roll down the Danube. We are looking forward to flying to Frankfurt on Singapore Air, which is rated a the #1 airline. We'll see about that.
The next post should be from Frankfurt. If I'm not too jet lagged it might even make some sense. I'm really too ancient for these time warps. When it takes a week to adjust you know you are old.
So we've tried to turn things off for the first half of the summer here. Feels funny, kind of like an Einstein thing where we stop in time and watch from above as the world continues on without us.
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