tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77334994649941496802024-03-13T05:52:17.980-07:00Nomada Vivo“Hejmo estas kie ajn Wi-Fi konektiĝas aŭtomate.”Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-19286915267293381442016-03-17T17:35:00.002-07:002016-03-17T17:35:58.501-07:00Nomada Vivo 2016Last year's 19-week trip around Europe was such a success, we're going back again this year. Like last year, we'll be attending Esperanto events and visiting friends—both old and new. This time we'll concentrate on Germany and France, and on our way home we'll pass through Quebec, New York, and New Jersey. The whole trip will take 11 weeks (see the <a href="http://arlynkerr.blogspot.com/p/itinerary-2016.html">2016 itinerary</a>).<br />
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I'll be sending weekly emails to anyone who's interested, rather than updating this blog while we're gone. <span style="background-color: yellow;"><b>If you'd like to be added to the mailing list, please let me know by email.</b></span><br />
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Ĝis la revido!<br />
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—Arlyn<br />
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<br />Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-24703852852586157502015-09-18T17:37:00.001-07:002015-10-17T22:37:53.277-07:00Back home!We're back home in Seattle, living on the houseboat again. The 11-hour non-stop flight on Condor was pretty good. To our surprise, they even served two meals to everybody; it's been ages since we've had free meals on a flight. The rigmarole surrounding the flight was as bad as ever: an hour to get through the various security and passport control lines at the beginning, and an hour to wait for our luggage (forced to check because of Condor's 6 kg limit for carry-on bags) and get through customs and immigration at SeaTac.<br />
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During the flight it was continually about noon as we chased the sun across nine time zones. Our entertainment was a cute two-year-old near us. I'm sure her parents expected her to sleep on the flight, since they probably woke up about 6 am, as we did, and it was 9:30 pm Frankfurt time when we landed. But this cute youngster kept going like the Energizer bunny, chattering happily the entire time. We were also treated to some great scenery over Greenland and northern Canada.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bacqkVZQ6LY/VfvixAy2Y7I/AAAAAAAAAzU/gmEWyNFRXac/s1600/1509-90%2BFrankfurt-Seattle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bacqkVZQ6LY/VfvixAy2Y7I/AAAAAAAAAzU/gmEWyNFRXac/s400/1509-90%2BFrankfurt-Seattle.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glaciers producing icebergs on the east coast of Greenland</td></tr>
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In Seattle, we took light rail and a bus to the boat, where we were glad to see that everything was in order, hardly even any spider webs. The following day we retrieved our car, happy that it started up as soon as Les reconnected the battery. We did several loads of wash at the laundromat: all the clothes we've been using for the trip, plus jackets and small backpacks. I started stocking up on kitchen essentials, since I'd completely emptied out the fridge and freezer before setting off. Les signed up again for Pandora, the thing he missed the most during the trip. Today we retrieved the 19 weeks of mail that our son had been collecting for us; it was pretty easy to sort through and save the few important items.<br />
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I feel I should add more about Angelika, our Frankfurt host. She often travels to China for her job, and we were grateful that she agreed to host us even though she knew she'd be returning the previous day from China. At age 31, she was the youngest person we stayed with. Being of the modern generation, she learned Esperanto through lernu.net, rather than from a "teach yourself" book or class, as was the way 30 years ago. (And lernu must have good instructors, because Les thought that she had as pure an Esperanto accent as you could wish for.) She's been to the "youth" conferences (defined as being up to age 29), which have lots more rock music, dancing, sports, and outdoor activities. I'm glad that we got a taste of it at SES (Somera Esperanto-Studado) in Slovakia, where the very young and very old co-mingle, even if people my age aren't as likely to be at the 10 pm concerts, or the midnight gab sessions.<br />
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For those who like statistics, here's Nomada Vivo by the numbers:<br />
<ul>
<li>Length of trip: 133 days (19 weeks)</li>
<li>Miles traveled: 18,333</li>
<li>Train rides: 55</li>
<li>Intercity buses: 13</li>
<li>Plane flights: 6</li>
<li>Ferry crossings: 1</li>
<li>Car rentals: 3 (Minneapolis, Windsor, Leeds)</li>
<li>Beds slept in: 51</li>
<li>Esperanto official events: 6</li>
<li>Esperanto speakers visited: 12</li>
<li>Hotels: 29 (plus some that were part of Esperanto events)</li>
<li>Countries: 12 (USA, Canada, UK, Belgium, Germany, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, France, Switzerland, Italy, Denmark)</li>
<li>Currencies: 9 (US dollars, Canadian dollars, GB pounds sterling, euros, Czech koruny, Hungarian forints, Swiss francs, Danish kroner, plus Icelandic krónur during a layover)</li>
<li>Weight carried while traveling: 23 kg (50 lbs)</li>
<li>Photos taken: 1,754</li>
<li>Photos kept: 646 (all edited for composition and color correction)</li>
<li>Items lost: 1 (an umbrella cover during a sudden deluge in Switzerland)</li>
<li>Number of blog posts: 38 including this one (starting last August with the preparations)</li>
<li>Cost of trip: $17,124 (excluding food, which was about the same as when at home)—by comparison, my 10-week trip to Europe exactly 50 years ago cost $560!</li>
<li>Words learned for "hazelnut": 6 (Dutch, German, Esperanto, French, Italian, Danish—so Les could order his favorite flavor of gelato)</li>
</ul>
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Les' choice for the most essential travel item: our Nexus 7 tablet. It was a huge help in navigating around strange cities (even without an internet connection, thanks to the wonderful CityMaps2Go app) and having complete train schedules at our fingertips in all European countries (the RailPlanner app). We used a laptop computer for all our "heavy duty" computing (email, spreadsheets, blogging, etc.), and we brought along two(!) Kindles to satisfy our reading needs for the long plane flights. In all, our electronic devices and associated chargers and adapters added up to 3 kg—taking up a significant chunk of our total weight budget.<br />
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My vote goes to the set of eating tools shown below. Because we had plastic dishes, bowls, sporks, cutting boards, knife and scissors, we could easily buy raw ingredients at the grocery store and prepare meals to eat in our hotel room or as a picnic. For example, in Frankfurt I bought bread, hummus, romaine lettuce, tomatoes, and a bag of grated carrots. The total cost was $9, and from that I made eight sandwiches. We often had cereal and milk for breakfast. Our food costs were low, and we had nutritious meals.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--eY0GIJgBXs/VfvixeBp1NI/AAAAAAAAAzg/1f4MQ_GY_Uk/s1600/1509-79%2BFlensburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--eY0GIJgBXs/VfvixeBp1NI/AAAAAAAAAzg/1f4MQ_GY_Uk/s400/1509-79%2BFlensburg.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My food preparation essentials</td></tr>
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So this brings to a close our trip and this blog. It's been a fantastic adventure, exceeding even our high expectations. We're already thinking about what we might do next year.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-14469315728592226952015-09-15T05:57:00.002-07:002015-10-17T20:48:01.524-07:00DenmarkAfter our 4-hour train trip to Denmark that turned into an 8-hour trip, we were happy to see our host Betty at the Copenhagen train station. We knew Betty through Esperanto, but in an unusual way. For the past few years we've been donating money to a microloan organization called <a href="http://www.kiva.org/" target="_blank">Kiva</a>. Within Kiva are special interest groups, and one of ours is the Esperanto group. When Les wrote a message to the group last spring asking if anyone was going to be at the Universala Kongreso in Lille, Betty responded that she'd be there, and also invited us to stay with her for a few days.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-720asLpQlNk/VfXMuB6-hgI/AAAAAAAAAxk/reTOG6wmWbQ/s1600/1509-62%2BCopenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-720asLpQlNk/VfXMuB6-hgI/AAAAAAAAAxk/reTOG6wmWbQ/s400/1509-62%2BCopenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nyhavn in Copenhagen</td></tr>
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We spent two days exploring downtown Copenhagen, by light rail, metro, foot, and kayak. Betty was another super host, and spoiled us with delicious vegan soups and stews. The day we left, Betty was to join a demonstration in support of migrant refugees. Betty has also been working hard to raise money for a <a href="http://elinjo-lifeisahotch-potch.blogspot.dk/" target="_blank">water project in Africa</a>. Feel free to contribute if you'd like to.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2F_IVi6izWI/VfXMuHNnjPI/AAAAAAAAAx0/GmkaNQnYBIE/s1600/1509-63%2BCopenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2F_IVi6izWI/VfXMuHNnjPI/AAAAAAAAAx0/GmkaNQnYBIE/s400/1509-63%2BCopenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Les liked watching all the photographers at the Little Mermaid statue</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jUEjJv30QgI/VfXMtnQ1ECI/AAAAAAAAAxs/QhIKFROKYq4/s1600/1509-70%2BCopenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jUEjJv30QgI/VfXMtnQ1ECI/AAAAAAAAAxs/QhIKFROKYq4/s400/1509-70%2BCopenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We kayaked in the canals of Copenhagen</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gc12IVbswNw/VfXMvOBXCUI/AAAAAAAAAyI/wesH1gZnCIk/s1600/1509-73%2BCopenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gc12IVbswNw/VfXMvOBXCUI/AAAAAAAAAyI/wesH1gZnCIk/s400/1509-73%2BCopenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donation center for refugees at the Copenhagen train station</td></tr>
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Betty arranged for us to stay with another Esperanto speaker in Odense on our way back to Germany. We learned that it's pronounced Oo'enseh (no "d" at all). Lisa was another fine cook, plying us with food. By a happy coincidence, a young Esperanto speaker had recently arrived from Hungary to study at the university, and joined us for dinner.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WjAZqZVY7Oo/VfXMva2G2RI/AAAAAAAAAyM/UhFWmHe8tp0/s1600/1509-74%2BOdense.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WjAZqZVY7Oo/VfXMva2G2RI/AAAAAAAAAyM/UhFWmHe8tp0/s400/1509-74%2BOdense.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New students at the university in Odense were roaming the streets doing spirit-building exercises; this is "The Simpsons" group</td></tr>
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Odense is the birthplace of Hans Christian Andersen, and we spent a few hours in the museum. We had not realized what a difficult life he led. Born into abject poverty, he had to struggle to get an education. Rejected in love several times, he longed for a wife, and was constantly plagued by bad dreams. His real efforts went into plays, which faced a lot of criticism, and it was only at the end of his life that he got some acclaim. He was a nomad like us most of his life, with no real home, traveling all over Europe and beyond in an age when traveling was quite difficult. He always carried a long thick rope in case he needed to escape a fire in a hotel from an upper floor.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WLwU_K2xg_w/VfXMvXHwe3I/AAAAAAAAAyA/XLv603aZBRE/s1600/1509-75%2BOdense.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WLwU_K2xg_w/VfXMvXHwe3I/AAAAAAAAAyA/XLv603aZBRE/s320/1509-75%2BOdense.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Princess and the Pea setup in the museum</td></tr>
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Lisa told us how she saved her father's life. He was in the Danish underground during World War II. One evening baby Lisa developed whooping cough, and her parents rushed with her to the hospital. Her father was supposed to meet with his group that evening, but didn't. The group was captured by the Nazis, tortured for information, and killed.<br />
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I learned that university education and health care is free not only for Danish citizens, but also for foreigners—seems incredible.<br />
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We took a train to Flensburg, just across the border in Germany. Again, there were swarms of refugees camping out in the station, and refugee help centers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jiQQxCC5xtg/VfgNDZi0nPI/AAAAAAAAAyg/fmHzLPFZwUI/s1600/1509-80%2BFlensburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jiQQxCC5xtg/VfgNDZi0nPI/AAAAAAAAAyg/fmHzLPFZwUI/s400/1509-80%2BFlensburg.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6S5hta273-o/VfgNEKxbE-I/AAAAAAAAAyw/33FYmgQni58/s1600/1509-81%2BFlensburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6S5hta273-o/VfgNEKxbE-I/AAAAAAAAAyw/33FYmgQni58/s400/1509-81%2BFlensburg.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The next day we took a train to Frankfurt. I haven't mentioned here one of my favorite features of the first class passage we get with the railcard: we can choose to sit in the "quiet" car, where cell phones can't be used. I've found that Europeans can be just as inconsiderate as Americans, making one loud phone call after another during a tram or train ride. On the negative side of the railcard, the German stations don't allow railcard users to take advantage of the first-class lounge; so it's a first-class ticket, but without all the first-class perks.<br />
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A few weeks ago we were very worried about Frankfurt, because we couldn't find any hotel rooms at a reasonable price. We had thought mid-September would be easy, but it turned out that there's an autumn festival going on, and all the prices more than doubled. I even contemplated camping out at the airport. But then I thought of Pasporta Servo. We've used it 6 or 7 times, but those stays were planned months ahead. Would it work on such short notice? There were six listings in Frankfurt, and we contacted two of them. Angelika saved the day by saying that we could stay with her.<br />
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The phrase that comes to mind is "blessing in disguise". I shudder to think that we might have been in a sterile Ibis (the hotel we use most commonly) in downtown Frankfurt. Instead, we're at Angelika's cozy apartment in the wonderful <a href="http://www.frankfurt.de/sixcms/detail.php?id=317578&_ffmpar[_id_inhalt]=5021015" target="_blank">Höchst</a> section of the city. It's very historical, dating from 790, at a meeting of two rivers. There's a large Turkish population, which means lots of <i>döner kebab</i> restaurants, and Angelika took us to her favorite one. (We've come to love this type of restaurant in Europe; I hope we can find some in Seattle.)<br />
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Angelika took us on a walking tour of the castle (built in the 13th century) and environs last night, and today we went back to see it again. We had a scary experience, though. We went through an open gate next to a church, to see a garden Angelika had told us about. After wandering around for ten minutes, we went back, but...the gate was locked! The walls were high stone ones, the area kind of isolated, so all we could think of was that we'd have to climb the tall metal gate. (I had visions of bruises and sprains.) Fortunately a man came by, we explained our predicament, he knocked on the church door, and soon somebody came with a key to let us out. Whew!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELBxjM5YPvc/VfgNGN9rFKI/AAAAAAAAAy8/IyQH_OVDGj0/s1600/1509-87%2BFrankfurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELBxjM5YPvc/VfgNGN9rFKI/AAAAAAAAAy8/IyQH_OVDGj0/s400/1509-87%2BFrankfurt.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the castle in Höchst</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KWFoHVK94hM/VfgNEsdeD3I/AAAAAAAAAy0/btQz_8WHPFo/s1600/1509-86%2BFrankfurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KWFoHVK94hM/VfgNEsdeD3I/AAAAAAAAAy0/btQz_8WHPFo/s400/1509-86%2BFrankfurt.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely houses in Höchst</td></tr>
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It seems so fitting that we ended our trip, whose theme always was Esperanto, by finding yet another kind-hearted Esperanto speaker through Pasporta Servo.<br />
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Now we're packing for the trip home tomorrow. It's more difficult than usual. Until now we've managed to never check any luggage on a plane. But Condor Airlines, which flies non-stop from Frankfurt to Seattle, has a strict limit of one 6kg suitcase each in the cabin, so we have to check one bag. We're trying to decide what items we won't mind getting lost.<br />
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It will be 19 weeks, or 133 days, since we left in early May. To tell the truth, we're neither of us looking forward to getting home. It will be lovely to see family and friends, but we've gotten hooked on the nomadic lifestyle (kind of the epitome of "simplified living"), and the prospect of new adventures each day. Next week I'll write a final entry, which will include statistics for the mathematically-minded.<br />
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<br />Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-32526916127840070482015-09-10T05:31:00.000-07:002015-10-17T22:31:06.821-07:00RefugeesEven though we haven't paid much attention to U.S. or international news in the past four months, we've been aware of the refugee crisis in Europe. First we saw refugee camps near the entrance to the Eurostar tunnel, and heard the woes of Fabrice in Trélon that they might close the tunnel and he wouldn't be able to get home to Brighton. When we stayed with our Esperanto friend in Bern, his housemate was a refugee from Libya, and told us how difficult it had been for him to find asylum in Europe. Then, both times we've been in Leipzig, we've seen the protests against immigration (and the counterprotests). But Wednesday we got to see the situation close-up and personal.<br />
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We had reserved a train from Lübeck to Copenhagen, which was supposed to take four hours. The first hint that something was unusual was that train was 20 minutes late. Considering that it had originated in Hamburg, only 45 minutes away, and knowing how punctual German trains are, this seemed unusual. Les remarked that there were more police officers at the train platform than passengers.<br />
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When we got on the train, we were surprised that it was overloaded, with people in the aisles. Two people were in our assigned seats, but moved when we asked them. We noticed the car smelled of people who hadn't bathed in a while. As we looked around, it became apparent that most of the passengers were foreigners. The father of a family with several children looked exhausted. When Les asked, he said that they had come from Afghanistan, and were on their way to Sweden. In the seat across the aisle, three men were crammed into the two spaces. The one who spoke the best English said that he'd started in Syria a month ago, been through Turkey, Greece, Macedonia, Serbia, Hungary, Austria, and Germany, and was on his way through Denmark and Sweden to Finland. The fellow next to him said that he had swum 13 kilometers to reach Turkey. They told us the police in Budapest demanded 1,000 euros or they'd be arrested.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cfnaGt-I5hk/VfFvrdzBIXI/AAAAAAAAAwc/as5A7z7x_iM/s1600/1509-55%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cfnaGt-I5hk/VfFvrdzBIXI/AAAAAAAAAwc/as5A7z7x_iM/s400/1509-55%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhausted travelers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H9W6lMeOD6Q/VfFvrXnWXnI/AAAAAAAAAwo/MQcMQFUxBto/s1600/1509-56%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H9W6lMeOD6Q/VfFvrXnWXnI/AAAAAAAAAwo/MQcMQFUxBto/s400/1509-56%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only the children had energy</td></tr>
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We had wondered ahead of time how the train would cross the long stretch of water from Germany to Denmark. Was there a tunnel under the sea? A bridge? Would the passengers switch to a boat, then onto another train? The answer turned out to be that the train drove right onto the boat! They told us that we had to leave the train during the 30-minute crossing. It was a very comfortable boat, with lots of shopping opportunities.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZmhI5KWd16U/VfFvrUPAV9I/AAAAAAAAAwk/4k-LYVagS4c/s1600/1509-57%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZmhI5KWd16U/VfFvrUPAV9I/AAAAAAAAAwk/4k-LYVagS4c/s400/1509-57%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The train is parked on the boat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oVhbQOnVEck/VfFvskdvCdI/AAAAAAAAAw8/-Ij6NMa6SZY/s1600/1509-58%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oVhbQOnVEck/VfFvskdvCdI/AAAAAAAAAw8/-Ij6NMa6SZY/s400/1509-58%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seemed like all the men took a smoke on the deck</td></tr>
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Upon nearing Denmark, we went back down to the train and got on. We sat there for about 15 minutes, before an announcement came that the train wasn't able to leave the ship. After another 15 minutes, they told us that again we should all get off the train and there would be an indefinite delay. As we sat upstairs on the boat, a ship official handed out bottles of cold water to everyone. Again, they said we could get on the train.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--htVy_YzkaA/VfFvs_JmuhI/AAAAAAAAAxA/JWLHAI34DvE/s1600/1509-60%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--htVy_YzkaA/VfFvs_JmuhI/AAAAAAAAAxA/JWLHAI34DvE/s400/1509-60%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Free bottles of cold water</td></tr>
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<br />
We sat for another hour, then noticed police surrounding the train. They boarded, and went down the aisles asking to see passports. Very few people could produce one. One man was hysterically shrieking, but we couldn't understand the words. The police told those of us with passports to take our luggage and leave the train and proceed by foot off the boat. We felt badly to leave all the refugees behind. Our group (only about a tenth of the total from the train) waited for half an hour, until a train came that was heading to Copenhagen. Our four-hour trip from Lübeck turned out to take eight hours.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BCVYI0Nro_w/VfFvtVos-WI/AAAAAAAAAxE/J1d30wId_Us/s1600/1509-61%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BCVYI0Nro_w/VfFvtVos-WI/AAAAAAAAAxE/J1d30wId_Us/s400/1509-61%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck-Copenhagen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lucky few who got to leave the boat and wait for another train</td></tr>
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<br />
We found out that our train was the last one to get through from Germany, before the Danish authorities <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-34203366" target="_blank">suspended all rail service</a> to and from Germany. We heard that the refugees were taken to a camp someplace. We don't fully understand the situation, but we think that the issue is that refugees have to register in the first country in the EU that they land in. Instead, they travel together in large groups and try to get to Sweden, where, if they register, they have a better chance of gaining asylum. The Danish government appears to be strict about enforcing immigration policies, but the police seem very humane. This was definitely the most memorable of our many train rides in Europe.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-32461090475517917612015-09-08T12:56:00.001-07:002015-10-16T16:49:35.583-07:00LeipzigWe've just spent five days at our "home away from home": Leipzig. We had another fine visit with Anita and Samy, and Anita's parents Annelore and Werner. Annelore was Les' first Esperanto penpal 29 years ago, and the whole family are dear friends.<br />
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We walked a lot in downtown Leipzig, went to an organ concert, saw an exhibition where Samy's talented 16-year-old daughter had been invited to display several paintings, and went to Annelore's house in Wölkau to eat four(!) different cakes she'd just baked.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dcikKF8epcs/Ve2isrx35WI/AAAAAAAAAu4/K1FaOpndgTs/s1600/1509-47%2BLeipzig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dcikKF8epcs/Ve2isrx35WI/AAAAAAAAAu4/K1FaOpndgTs/s400/1509-47%2BLeipzig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Anita's home</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vvpZZozWuEo/Ve8fD_DrXPI/AAAAAAAAAv4/yroFo5cx1Ok/s1600/1509-28%2BLeipzig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vvpZZozWuEo/Ve8fD_DrXPI/AAAAAAAAAv4/yroFo5cx1Ok/s400/1509-28%2BLeipzig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Anita at an exhibit on the history of printing, at the German National Library</td></tr>
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With Anita, Samy, Annelore, and Werner, we spent a day in lovely Halle and in Eisleben, where we listened to nuns chanting in a cloister and went to the birthplace and deathplace of Martin Luther, both turned into museums, plus the church where he was baptized.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YaGKZ-nAJk0/Ve2is1SpIzI/AAAAAAAAAvE/kji8M3mPaHc/s1600/1509-43%2BEisleben.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YaGKZ-nAJk0/Ve2is1SpIzI/AAAAAAAAAvE/kji8M3mPaHc/s400/1509-43%2BEisleben.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As we were thinking that Eisleben was a pretty serious town, with all its Martin Luther locations, we spotted these whimsical knitted chickens on fenceposts.</td></tr>
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Just like when we were in Leipzig in July, we happened to hit the monthly meeting of Annelore's local Esperanto group. And just like last time, because it was a Monday evening, the streets were teeming with police cars to prevent trouble during the weekly immigration protests. One group objects to Germany letting in so many refugees, while the counter group objects to the Nazi-type sentiments of the first group. Fortunately, the counter-demonstrators outnumbered the antiforeigners by a large margin (20:1). I'm glad that Anita's son and his friends sometimes join the counter group.<br />
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Today we took the train to Lübeck in the north. We chose it as a well-located overnight place on the way to Denmark, and hadn't realized that it's actually a charming town worth visiting in its own right.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lIFksMvmXYo/Ve8dWRua41I/AAAAAAAAAvo/BTB__7_aktY/s1600/1509-53%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lIFksMvmXYo/Ve8dWRua41I/AAAAAAAAAvo/BTB__7_aktY/s400/1509-53%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Holsten Gate in Lübeck</td></tr>
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We heard that Lübeck is famous for its marzipan, so we picked up a few kinds to test out how good it is.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_kiCM21mKUE/Ve8dWS58ECI/AAAAAAAAAvs/0ksJI8fjtMg/s1600/1509-50%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_kiCM21mKUE/Ve8dWS58ECI/AAAAAAAAAvs/0ksJI8fjtMg/s400/1509-50%2BL%25C3%25BCbeck.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lübeck's old town is an island</td></tr>
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People have been asking us all summer what we plan to do about housing when we get back to Seattle. Will you get an apartment? Stay on the boat? Keep traveling? The answer has always been that we haven't really thought about it, are just enjoying each day as it comes without thinking of the future. But in the past few days we've come up with some ideas.<br />
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The first idea is to spend two or three months in Leipzig next fall. We would probably use <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/" target="_blank">Airbnb</a> for housing. We didn't use it at all on this trip, but it seems reasonable to try, and that leads to a second idea; try out Airbnb in the U.S. and Canada this winter and spring. The plan I currently like is to alternate a month on the boat and a month in some other city, then back to Europe in the fall. We'll pursue these ideas after settling in at home. At the start of the year we had thought that we might spend this November and December in New Zealand, but Les feels he needs time to digest what we've already done, so probably that idea is out.<br />
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Tomorrow it's on to our last new country: Denmark.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H_dblVEC9oo/Ve2k_Ziwb7I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/xSZ8NbHUxDc/s1600/1509-15%2BLeipzig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H_dblVEC9oo/Ve2k_Ziwb7I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/xSZ8NbHUxDc/s320/1509-15%2BLeipzig.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Europe really <i>is</i> on the metric system—10 eggs instead of a dozen!</td></tr>
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Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-43566897889499654342015-09-04T02:24:00.000-07:002015-09-04T02:24:11.575-07:00Switzerland - part 2We had intentionally not made any plans for the last two and a half weeks of our trip. We wanted to stay flexible in case we heard about new opportunities. This plan worked out well, as we had a couple of invitations from people we didn't even know at the start of our trip. They helped determine our itinerary: Zurich, Leipzig (again) and Denmark.<br />
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After the Itala Kongreso we spent a night in Milan. There's currently an Expo there, but we don't like crowds, and it was quite hot, so we just spent our evening walking around town a bit.<br />
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The next day we went to Zurich, where we stayed two nights. We walked a lot, and we took advantage of an all-day transportation pass by going on a lot of trams and a boat and a funicular. Zurich is a nice, modern city, but we found it a bit sterile compared to Geneva and Bern.<br />
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Then we went a short distance to the village of Niederlenz, to stay with Udo, an Esperanto speaker we met at SES in Slovakia. This was out in the country, a different experience from the large cities and suburbs we'd visited so far in Switzerland. There were loads of trails through forests and rural areas. We got caught in a torrential downpour during one walk, as the hot weather pattern finally broke. The nearby town of Lenzburg was a tiny, perfect village, fitting well with Les' criteria for a good city: nice architecture, no graffiti, no honking, minimal smoking, people look happy.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iWEk-mByF60/VelcmezmNLI/AAAAAAAAAtA/yMV2VGHZZmw/s1600/1509-03%2BNiederlenz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iWEk-mByF60/VelcmezmNLI/AAAAAAAAAtA/yMV2VGHZZmw/s400/1509-03%2BNiederlenz.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castle in Lenzburg</td></tr>
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Udo teaches middle school (at least that would be the U.S. equivalent), and he gave me a tour of his school. When I expressed surprise at the school's bunker, Udo explained that every house and building must, by law, have a <a href="http://www.swissinfo.ch/eng/prepared-for-anything_bunkers-for-all/995134" target="_blank">bunker</a> where you can live for 24 hours. They're inspected periodically by the government. The idea is to protect from both enemy attack and accidents from the atomic energy plants. The bunker in Udo's basement looked very substantial. An alternative is to buy space in a nearby community bunker.<br />
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One feature of the school I liked was the hallway where each graduating student gets to paint a concrete block on the wall.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bE8xB5sHfBY/VelcnOyNPFI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/a5RjY_kgGVU/s1600/1509-05%2BNiederlenz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bE8xB5sHfBY/VelcnOyNPFI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/a5RjY_kgGVU/s400/1509-05%2BNiederlenz.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bricks painted by graduating students</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pXXWWWLqstI/Velerf-Wd4I/AAAAAAAAAtk/BJQOSs0cOW0/s1600/E-block.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="195" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pXXWWWLqstI/Velerf-Wd4I/AAAAAAAAAtk/BJQOSs0cOW0/s320/E-block.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This reference to Esperanto was a surprise</td></tr>
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The students get Wednesday afternoons off, which seems like a nice mid-week break for both students and teachers. And I love the annual school schedule in Switzerland. Instead of a long summer vacation, there are three-week vacations spread throughout the year. The kids have a total of 14 weeks off, but must choose one of those weeks to do a "project". The projects are offered by various instructors, and sound wonderful: photography, skiing, bicycling, etc. Udo has always taught amateur radio, but this year he's going to try a week of "Esperanto as a secret language".<br />
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When we mentioned how much outdoor smoking we found in Europe, Udo told us about a <a href="http://www.at-schweiz.ch/en/smoking-prevention-projects-in-switzerland.html" target="_blank">national contest</a> that encourages students to abstain from smoking by offering monetary incentives to class units. Wow, what a great idea to use peer pressure to <i>discourage</i> smoking instead of the opposite.<br />
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As we left, Udo's wife Lena plied us with produce from her garden: apples, pears, tomatoes, grapes, tiny gherkins (so adorable, each one the size of a large blueberry). We greatly enjoyed our stay with Udo and Lena, and were glad to hear that Udo has added his name to Pasporta Servo so that other Esperanto speakers can enjoy a stay there.<br />
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The three trains to Leipzig took 12 hours, partly because we've changed our algorithm for choosing trains. For the first month or so of the trip, we chose routes where there might be seven minutes or so to make a connection. But I found it too nerve-wracking if the first train was running late, to think that we might miss the train on which we'd paid for a reserved seat, and perhaps not get any seat at all on a later train. So now we give ourselves at least 45 minutes between any trains, often longer. The extra wait can actually be quite pleasant when we're able to take advantage of the first class lounge.<br />
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Speaking of trains, I realize that even after taking so many trains, I'm still often baffled when I use the WC in them. It seems like every train, and every public bathroom, not to mention many private bathrooms, have various ways to flush, to get water, to get soap, to dry hands, etc. For example, the flushing mechanism might be on some part of the toilet, or some button on a wall, or a chain overhead to pull, or something even more mysterious. Even locking and unlocking the door is sometimes a puzzle; on two or three occasions I've wondered whether it might get down to shouting "Help!" in order to get out.<br />
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We're back in Leipzig now, our "second home" with Anita's family. Taking a breath before the final adventure in Denmark.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-9095629353625860972015-08-29T13:10:00.000-07:002015-10-15T21:47:11.686-07:00ItalyWe enjoyed our one-night stay in Bologna, but had a nightmarish experience trying to leave the city. We got to the train station at 9:20 for our 9:58 train. The reader board in the waiting area showed our train, but without a platform number. We checked the train roster posted in the waiting area and it said it normally leaves from Platform 4, but when we got to that platform the reader board there showed a different train, one that would leave at 10:10. We waited ten minutes to see whether it would change to our train. We asked a police officer, who called somebody on his radio and told us Platform 10. We went over there, and found others waiting for our train; I never figured out how they knew about Platform 10—maybe they had an app that gave up-to-date details, or maybe all of them had asked police or other officials. It got to be 9:57, still no platform indicated on the board. Then finally something happened—it showed that it would be 15 minutes late, still no platform. After 15 minutes, it showed 30 minutes late, still no platform. We'd been standing for over an hour, as there were no benches on the platforms, and we had to keep moving as people lit up cigarettes. As the new time approached (10:25), suddenly a platform appeared on the board: Platform 3!<br />
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Everybody on Platform 10 rushed downstairs into the corridor to get to Platform 3. But the corridor was so blocked with people shoving in both directions, that it was almost a standstill. I felt a bit nauseous and claustrophobic, being trapped in a crowd (that's the nightmare aspect), and wondering whether the train would take off before we got to it. A woman near Les had a panic attack, and a police officer edged his way through the crowd to help her. Because I had less luggage, I made more forward progress than Les, and finally got up to Platform 3. I was prepared to stand in the doorway to prevent the train from leaving until Les could catch up. But in the end, even after Les got on, the train stayed there 10 minutes more. So there'd been no need for panic, but we had no way to know that as we struggled to get to our reserved train.<br />
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We got to San Benedetto del Tronto, where we spent a week at the Itala Kongreso, Italy's annual Esperanto convention. There were about 250 people, half Italians and half from 31 other countries. The week included many options: excursions every day, classes at three levels and two seminars in the mornings, talks in the afternoons, and entertainment in the evenings. As usual, often two or three things happening simultaneously, so one had to make decisions.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XgzYVcvtEsw/VeBb1Mzca3I/AAAAAAAAAq8/MIa1N4lAfKo/s1600/1508-144%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XgzYVcvtEsw/VeBb1Mzca3I/AAAAAAAAAq8/MIa1N4lAfKo/s400/1508-144%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banner announcing the convention</td></tr>
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This was a very intellectual, academic, type of conference. The talks were all by university professor types. For example, a talk by a linguist about the appearance (or not) of definite articles ("the") and indefinite articles ("a") in European languages; some languages use both (English), some use neither (Russian), some use one but not the other; the speaker showed how, from 2000 years ago, articles spread from certain languages to others. Another very interesting talk, by a professor of linguistics, was on "Why should one read literature"; one fact I learned is that 40% of university graduates in the U.S. read no literature at all after graduation; I'm actually surprised that as many as 60% <i>do</i> read literature.<br />
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One ongoing seminar discussed the idea that the whole world is becoming more and more like the U.S. (e.g. individualistic, materialistic, businesses having a lot of power even in governmental and university affairs, using sophisticated advertising techniques to manipulate people's desires): is it true, and—if so—what are the consequences of that? Is there an alternative model, and how can we encourage that one? The discussion on topics like this is interesting, where the participants bring a perspective from many countries.<br />
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Our favorite talks were a three-part lecture series on the evolution of language, numbers, and calendars. An interesting point: the fact that 80 in French is <i>quatre-vingt</i> (four 20's) shows that in the past the French used base 20 for numbers. Also, in French and some other languages, the word for <i>nine</i> and <i>new</i> are the same or similar (e.g., <i>neuf</i>), indicating that they once had 8 as their base. Interesting fact: the days of the week in Latin-derived countries relate to the order of the things seen in the sky: moon (Lundo), Mars (Mardo), Mercury (Merkredo), Saturn (Saturday), etc. Another one that I didn't know: from 1929 to 1940 the Russian calendar had, first, 5 days in a week (skipping Saturday and Sunday), then 6 (in order to have one rest day). I'd like to have had a whole semester to cover the same material in a less rushed manner.<br />
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The organizer arranged for us to stay at a small (6-room) hotel above a cafe/bar. We had our breakfast in the bar, and dinners and suppers at the conference hotel where most of the events were held. Our breakfasts were totally decadent: a piece of delicious cake baked by the owner's wife, an exquisite cornetto (like a croissant, but in many wonderful flavors like pistachio, and so warm they melt in your mouth), a cup of fresh organic juice, grapes or a plum, and cappuccino.<br />
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We did three half-day walking excursions in the town, and one full-day excursion by tour bus. The walking tours had an Italian professional guide, who needed to be translated into Esperanto, which doubled the amount of talking. We prefer tours like in the Toronto event, where a local person, not a professional guide, leads the tour and talks only in Esperanto. Also, the pace was too slow for us; although I can easily walk five miles at a fast clip, I find it difficult to walk even one mile slowly, and it's even harder for me to stand for long periods listening to a guide. Often during the tours, the Italian guide would boom out each sentence, then the Esperanto translator would give his version in a soft voice difficult to hear, especially as the Italians in the group had already understood it and felt like it was OK to talk during the translated version.<br />
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One walk centered on the many statues in town. We liked the fact that each statue has a miniature one next to it, with Braille explanations, for blind people. Also to help the blind, many streets had textured pathways on the sidewalks, including ones leading to the sculptures. We'd first noticed these in Bern. Since the Esperanto Society for the Blind was holding its annual convention in conjunction with the Italian convention, these were nice features for them. Another tour was to the Museo del Mare, with its three sections: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amphora" target="_blank">amphora</a>, the local fishing industry, and fish and other sea creatures.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gOZskIAnU9A/VeBb_J3egaI/AAAAAAAAArg/k0bzkENdMeo/s1600/1508-151%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gOZskIAnU9A/VeBb_J3egaI/AAAAAAAAArg/k0bzkENdMeo/s400/1508-151%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whimsical statue in San Benedetto; note the miniature version on the left for blind people</td></tr>
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We did an all-day excursion to several cities up the coast. The first one, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loreto,_Marche" target="_blank">Loreto</a>, was our favorite, and we'd have liked to spend more time there. Les heard his beloved Eurasian collared dove for the first time in Italy, and captured his best photo yet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--PSONgOzl7U/VeBbxUbOwNI/AAAAAAAAAq4/PZ4pEfM7sFc/s1600/1508-145%2BLoreto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--PSONgOzl7U/VeBbxUbOwNI/AAAAAAAAAq4/PZ4pEfM7sFc/s400/1508-145%2BLoreto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loreto</td></tr>
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The next stop was Recanati, where we toured the library of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giacomo_Leopardi" target="_blank">Giacomo Leopardi</a>; he's a well-loved Italian poet. (An Italian fellow was horrified to find out that we'd never heard of Leopardi, and immediately recited a long poem by heart.) Our last town was Ancona. We visited the very unusual <a href="http://www.museoomero.it/main?lang=4" target="_blank">Museo Tattile Statale Omero</a>, a tactile art museum where touching is not only allowed but encouraged. It contains sculptures, both originals and also copies of famous ones such as Michaelangelo's David, all geared for blind people to be able to get a sense of.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i_XF7uhUpkI/VeBb5s_Zm8I/AAAAAAAAArQ/hbtXB0LPXIE/s1600/1508-149%2BAncona.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i_XF7uhUpkI/VeBb5s_Zm8I/AAAAAAAAArQ/hbtXB0LPXIE/s400/1508-149%2BAncona.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ancona</td></tr>
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One evening a good one-woman play was presented, and on other evenings, there were concerts at the outdoor concert venue. One concert was by Kim Henriksen, a well-loved Esperanto rock singer (see a <a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dm8rQoIQwjE" target="_blank">video</a> from an earlier performance). All these evening events started at 9:30, and we were always surprised on the way back, at 11pm or so, to see that children were still playing in the playgrounds—long after children in the U.S. would be in bed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D3fLR_6jo6s/VeIIJ5oET7I/AAAAAAAAAsE/NEVwOyixlg0/s1600/1508-158%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D3fLR_6jo6s/VeIIJ5oET7I/AAAAAAAAAsE/NEVwOyixlg0/s400/1508-158%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock concert at the outdoor pavilion</td></tr>
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San Benedetto del Tronto is a beach town on the Adriatic Sea. There were lots of tourists, but they all seemed to be Italians. (The main clerk at the conference hotel, the biggest in the city, spoke no English; Les sometimes communicated with him in French, which the clerk knew a bit.) The beach, similar to all the beaches we passed in the train, had thousands of umbrellas, each beach area arranged in grids, with tables and lounge chairs. There'd be one grid of blue umbrellas followed by a grid of red-yellow umbrellas, etc. I think the idea is that you rent your umbrella and its furnishings for a period of time, and I'm guessing that you choose your favorite beach based on whether it has a good playground, or area for soccer or volleyball or bocce, or whatever is important to you. Neither Les nor I are beach people, so we didn't take advantage of this part of San Benedetto.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqJ53W6pv8s/VeBb-bYc2AI/AAAAAAAAArY/uukVEdQ_Bio/s1600/1508-150%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqJ53W6pv8s/VeBb-bYc2AI/AAAAAAAAArY/uukVEdQ_Bio/s400/1508-150%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beach area of San Benedetto, one of a hundred or more</td></tr>
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The first weekend there, we hit San Benedetto's Antico e le Palme, one of the most important exhibitions of antiques in Italy with hundreds of booths lining the pedestrian malls, each selling furniture, paintings, sculptures, carpets, ceramics, jewelry, books and prints. and antiques; this happens four times a year. On Tuesday and Friday mornings, all year, there are also hundreds of booths, this time selling clothing, fruits, plants, pots, etc. Every evening until midnight and later there's music in the plazas, buskers, masses of people roaming around. The streets always felt completely safe, day or night.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X2omTDFsdjY/VeBeE6fNHOI/AAAAAAAAArw/mMkaf_6mdx8/s1600/1508-154%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X2omTDFsdjY/VeBeE6fNHOI/AAAAAAAAArw/mMkaf_6mdx8/s320/1508-154%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twice-weekly city fair in San Benedetto, from our hotel window</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bB8IBhQA1VA/VeBbsAGV0hI/AAAAAAAAAqw/HVrcsXdSIOk/s1600/1508-138%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bB8IBhQA1VA/VeBbsAGV0hI/AAAAAAAAAqw/HVrcsXdSIOk/s400/1508-138%2BSan%2BBenedetto%2Bdel%2BTronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quarterly antique fair still doing business at 11pm</td></tr>
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We found this conference frustrating for several reasons. There was a lot of Italian spoken: at the meals, while lounging around, on excursions, even among the organizers, etc. And the groups chatting in front of the conference hotel always seemed to include at least one smoker at every table, making it completely uninviting to sit down and join in. Even though there were lots of good aspects to the organization (and, having organized conferences ourselves, we appreciate the huge amount of work that went into it), a lack of posted information caused several problems for us. Although Italy wasn't as blazing hot as Les feared, it still was hotter than we like, and meeting rooms without air-conditioning were often uncomfortable.<br />
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And it was annoying that the waiters at the hotel, where we had our 1:00 dinner and 8:00 supper, seemed to treat vegetarians with either indifference or contempt; it was never clear which, but the end result for us was that almost every meal consisted of just the antipasti. These were very nice, put out as a buffet, with lots of vegetables, but pretty much the same ones every day. While everybody else after that got soup or a pasta dish, followed by a meat or fish plate, the waiters sometimes gave us a substitution (pasta in tomato sauce instead of pasta with small clams), but usually told us to just eat more of the buffet food. After a few days we didn't even wait around; we just ate lots of appetizers, then got up and left, because it felt so dispiriting to watch everybody else getting a nice meal. This was quite surprising because, as I've noted before in this blog, most Esperanto events treat vegetarians very well.<br />
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Our hotel unfortunately did not have convenient WiFi. Les had to make a (free) phone call to activate the internet each time he wanted to use it, and sometimes the connection would drop out in the middle of a session. Considering that his motto is "Home is wherever WiFi connects automatically", this didn't feel like home to Les.<br />
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We ran into a couple of people we'd met at other events this summer, but for some reason we made only a few new friends here, including a lovely couple from Lyons. And two or three of the organizers were very helpful to us when we were feeling helpless with our lack of Italian.<br />
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The laundromat we used was closed for three hours every mid-day. It reminded me of my experience 50 years ago in Florence. I went to a laundromat far from my hotel, did the wash, put it into a dryer, and went away for half an hour. When I returned, I was surprised to see that the building was locked. On asking a passerby, I discovered that it wouldn't reopen for three hours!<br />
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When we tried to get train reservations from San Benedetto to Zurich, we ran into a problem. Even though it was still six days off, all the fast trains were already full. We had to settle for some slower trains, at less ideal times, and it all took a lot of effort, plus meant missing the closing ceremonies. We're really fed up now with the Eurail Pass, for forcing us to wait until we got to Italy to make the required reservation (it has to be done in person at a ticket office in the country of that particular rail company), which in turn meant that the train was already full. And now we have to worry that by the time we get back to Switzerland, the only place that we can make a reservation for our trip from there to Leipzig, that train will also be full. Without the rail pass, you can buy tickets online from anywhere in the world—often at greatly discounted prices—so the rail pass doesn't seem like such a good deal after all. Things were much simpler during the first half of our trip, before we started using our rail pass.<br />
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The prices of food seemed amazingly cheap in Italy, after being five days in Switzerland. We had gelato every day, and Les now can say "hazelnut" in six languages (to facilitate his gelato orders). Oh, I guess seven languages if you include Latin; that one is easy because it's the same as Esperanto, as are the names for many plants and animals.<br />
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One thing Les appreciated about the people in San Benedetto is they always looked happy. Even when they're arguing, they seem to be enjoying life. My theory is that it's all that gelato.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-69054525093854598112015-08-21T11:30:00.003-07:002015-10-17T20:46:20.374-07:00SwitzerlandWe spent this week in Switzerland, namely Geneva and Bern. We didn't know anybody in Geneva, but I remembered it as one of my favorite cities from my trip 50 years ago. We walked in the old town and along both sides of the lake, took the municipal ferry across the lake, saw the botanical garden and the outside of the UN. Usually Les and I are in agreement on our opinions, but not this time: I still found Geneva very appealing, while Les didn't feel at home there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UCmX5UoXAm8/VddxksBKzUI/AAAAAAAAApg/H4znjdj0Jzg/s1600/1508-95%2BGeneva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UCmX5UoXAm8/VddxksBKzUI/AAAAAAAAApg/H4znjdj0Jzg/s400/1508-95%2BGeneva.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Place des Nations in Geneva</td></tr>
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We got sticker shock on arriving at Geneva, which continued during our entire stay in Switzerland. Phone calls and SMS messages are six to twenty times what they cost in other European countries, food prices and transportation fares two or three times as much, etc.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Eb1TcpBZ3t8/VddxlZM_ifI/AAAAAAAAApw/SzroxYMqnLw/s1600/1508-98%2BGeneva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Eb1TcpBZ3t8/VddxlZM_ifI/AAAAAAAAApw/SzroxYMqnLw/s400/1508-98%2BGeneva.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fruit market in the old town section of Geneva</td></tr>
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Next we went to Bern, where we stayed with an Esperanto speaker through Pasporta Servo, but actually we already knew our host Ueli from the New Years gathering in Xanten, Germany, two and a half years ago. Ueli lives and has a medical practice in Zollikofen, a small town near Bern. He arranged a meeting of the local Esperanto group at a restaurant aptly named Esperanto, and we met some interesting people.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VckLCVeT8Ew/VddxbM87VmI/AAAAAAAAAo4/iUUicxSWK3E/s1600/1508-111%2BBern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VckLCVeT8Ew/VddxbM87VmI/AAAAAAAAAo4/iUUicxSWK3E/s400/1508-111%2BBern.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Location of our meeting with local Esperantists</td></tr>
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We walked in the old town, and spent a couple of hours at the excellent Museum of Telecommunications, also some time at the Swiss Rifle Museum. Bern has kept live bears since 1440, so when I was there 50 years ago, I went to look at them. But I got depressed at the sight of them in their gloomy concrete pit, and this time had no desire to seek out the bears. I should have checked online, because I just discovered that in 2009 the pits were replaced by a spacious bear park—hooray!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5-yP9AzGAHQ/Vddxgdje15I/AAAAAAAAApQ/iD_7UVp3ZtY/s1600/1508-123%2BBern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5-yP9AzGAHQ/Vddxgdje15I/AAAAAAAAApQ/iD_7UVp3ZtY/s400/1508-123%2BBern.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old town section of Bern</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IPf0WmsoP5E/VddxeqLKXDI/AAAAAAAAApE/1Q6-bG0zosQ/s1600/1508-121%2BBern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IPf0WmsoP5E/VddxeqLKXDI/AAAAAAAAApE/1Q6-bG0zosQ/s400/1508-121%2BBern.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Les liked the chimneys.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YQpnvRbQUEY/VddxbubBsFI/AAAAAAAAAow/iH7cspSE59A/s1600/1508-106%2BBern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YQpnvRbQUEY/VddxbubBsFI/AAAAAAAAAow/iH7cspSE59A/s400/1508-106%2BBern.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main entrance of the Münster in Bern</td></tr>
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We passed the most marvelous public playground I've ever seen. It had about ten sections: one for playing in mud and water, one for jumping onto a large pad, one part a tiny soccer area with goals for practicing shots, etc. I had the feeling that you wouldn't see such a playground in the U.S. because of liability concerns.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kxzY_73eMUs/Vddxbgh8RoI/AAAAAAAAAos/10Aq5v0t-hM/s1600/1508-109%2BBern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kxzY_73eMUs/Vddxbgh8RoI/AAAAAAAAAos/10Aq5v0t-hM/s400/1508-109%2BBern.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small section of the wonderful playground, with the soft jumping pad</td></tr>
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We learned a lot about the Swiss form of government, the health care system, and compulsory military service. It's one of the benefits of being with a resident for a couple of days; in the cities where we use hotels, we don't really learn much about the city or country.<br />
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In Zollikofen Les finally got a good photo of the bird he's loved since Scotland. Its call mimics the Morse code letter "R" which means "OK, everything's fine". But the bird is quite elusive, so it's hard to even spot it, never mind get a picture. Les' three favorite things about Europe are: the trains, the buildings and bridges, and the Eurasian collared dove.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JyIJiUnCg4U/VddxcT0I4qI/AAAAAAAAAo0/zBxhw1JmKRM/s1600/1508-113%2BBern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JyIJiUnCg4U/VddxcT0I4qI/AAAAAAAAAo0/zBxhw1JmKRM/s400/1508-113%2BBern.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Les finally got this photo of a Eurasian collared dove.</td></tr>
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We've been disappointed since we started using our Eurail Pass two weeks ago. You're required to reserve a seat on many trains, and it turns out to be quite costly at times and often impossible to do online when you're not also buying a ticket. The only advantage seems to be that it's first class, which didn't mean much to us, as we were happy traveling second class. But we discovered, completely by accident, that Geneva and Zurich have first class lounges, and we took advantage of this perk while changing trains in Zurich. The lounge had comfortable seats, free espresso drinks, beautiful bathrooms. Quite a switch from some station experiences where there haven't even been seats in the waiting areas.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yo_JKylwQFg/Vddxe4mAbqI/AAAAAAAAApI/4WcfdKTtpqQ/s1600/1508-128%2BZurich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yo_JKylwQFg/Vddxe4mAbqI/AAAAAAAAApI/4WcfdKTtpqQ/s400/1508-128%2BZurich.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the first class lounge in the Zurich train station</td></tr>
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The train ride from Bern to Bologna today was beautiful, especially in southern Switzerland. Another first class perk we discovered was free drinks and snacks, just like the airlines used to do many years ago. I feel a bit stupid that we missed our snacks on the first leg of the journey, because I didn't realize they were free and said "no thanks" when it was offered.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FyjYtsOuwbY/VddxiypjuZI/AAAAAAAAApY/ejH6R5PYcUw/s1600/1508-129%2BZurich-Milan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FyjYtsOuwbY/VddxiypjuZI/AAAAAAAAApY/ejH6R5PYcUw/s400/1508-129%2BZurich-Milan.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the train window in southern Switzerland</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fyYfWPYq5A0/VddxkKPdKLI/AAAAAAAAApk/xilwPs5b6q8/s1600/1508-130%2BWassen%2B%2528time%2B13-03-00%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fyYfWPYq5A0/VddxkKPdKLI/AAAAAAAAApk/xilwPs5b6q8/s400/1508-130%2BWassen%2B%2528time%2B13-03-00%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We passed this church three times as we corkscrewed our way through tunnels and bridges up the side of a mountain.</td></tr>
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I misread a map when choosing our hotel in Bologna; I thought it was close to the train station, but it turned out to be one and a half miles away. No problem, the weather was beautiful and we got to see a lot of Bologna as we walked there. Later on, I spent another hour walking in the old section while Les got caught up on computer work. We do that fairly frequently, because I enjoy walking around each new city, while Les needs his share of screen time.<br />
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Bologna is a nice city which reminds me of Merida in Mexico, where I spent a week in January; the climate, the architecture, the large plazas, the relaxing pastel colors, and the flora seem quite similar to me. There don't seem to be many tourists, there's little traffic, and the people in the streets appear to be happy, tons of sidewalk dining—and not near as many smokers on the sidewalks as in Switzerland.<br />
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Tomorrow we start the final big Esperanto event of our trip: the weeklong Itala Kongreso in San Benedetto del Tronto.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-33400843751565767502015-08-15T13:11:00.002-07:002015-08-15T13:11:17.474-07:00GrésillonWe've spent the past week in the Loire Valley, at the Château de Grésillon near Baugé-en-Anjou. This has been an Esperanto retreat since the 1950s; my penpal Ghislaine used to come here in the 1960s. In the summer they have weeklong events with different themes. Because of the timing and our liking for being with Esperanto children, we selected the week geared to families. Many of the families come back every year for this particular week.<br />
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We took a train from Paris to Le Mans, where we spent a night. We had a chance to see some of the old town, which dates from Roman times. The next day we took a bus to Baugé. We thought that there might be others on the bus headed to Grésillon, and—sure enough—a woman from China and her granddaughter joined us. She didn't speak any French, so we were able to help her purchase her ticket and get on the right bus. In turn she helped us out once we got to Baugé; we were prepared to walk the 3 kilometers to the chateau, but she had arranged for a friend, already there, to pick her up at the bus stop, and he luckily had enough room for us also.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RFDjXBgFJI4/VcuqSQi5HHI/AAAAAAAAAnc/io0kj9mCF44/s1600/1508-74%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RFDjXBgFJI4/VcuqSQi5HHI/AAAAAAAAAnc/io0kj9mCF44/s400/1508-74%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Château de Grésillon</td></tr>
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Grésillon reminded me a lot of the overnight camps I used to attend as a child. It's way out in the country, a half-hour walk from the nearest village, with lizards and ticks and tiny frogs and such. There were 43 of us, including about 15 children aged 2 to 16. We ate our (very good) meals together in the dining room, family style, and took turns helping to set and clear the tables. We had our own room in the chateau, with the bathroom down the hall and a sink and bidet in the room. (The first time I saw a bidet was in Paris 50 years ago, and I didn't know what the heck it was.) The grounds were large and diverse, with many parts converted to new uses.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kAylCPKcpwg/Vc9d1zIFNGI/AAAAAAAAAn8/UnNsmfgUo78/s1600/1508-80%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kAylCPKcpwg/Vc9d1zIFNGI/AAAAAAAAAn8/UnNsmfgUo78/s400/1508-80%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erstwhile pig stalls now used for toilets and showers for those camping in the fields</td></tr>
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Like camp, there was some structure, but—unlike camp—we were free to do what we wanted at all times. In the mornings four Esperanto classes, at different levels, were held, but some people elected to not do any. I enjoyed my class very much, especially the many fun games we played, all designed to increase vocabulary and speaking ability.<br />
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In the afternoons some people went in cars to a nearby swimming lake, while others attended workshops (e.g. juggling), or did parachute games, or just had a nap. (Ha ha, Les and I did the naps a lot; the warm weather and country quiet seemed conducive.) I enjoyed two workshops about doing fast mental math; for instance I can say in seconds how much is 42 times 48, or what day of the week it was when you were born. Every day before supper we had 90 minutes of group singing. After supper were various forms of entertainment and talks. Twice I gave slide shows; it used to be one show, but now that we have over three months behind us, I've had to split it into two: "Living on a houseboat" and "Our long trip in Esperantujo".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAYHExHtnL4/VcuqPp8vfjI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/DEHy3OFUwbY/s1600/1508-68%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAYHExHtnL4/VcuqPp8vfjI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/DEHy3OFUwbY/s400/1508-68%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made bracelets out of little rubber bands</td></tr>
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Les took advantage of a couple of the native French participants to improve his French. One of them is a teacher of French as a second language. It seemed fitting to be learning French in that region, because the Loire Valley is known as the cradle of the French language.<br />
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Speaking of French speakers, it was interesting to see the problems they face in learning Esperanto. I'm used to the challenges for English speakers, such as getting the "r" sound right, but I hadn't thought about the fact that other nationalities have their own difficulties. The French speakers who are relatively new to Esperanto, for instance, tend to accent the last syllable of each word (as is common in French), instead of the next-to-last syllable which is the rule for every single Esperanto word. And they tend to drop the "h" on the front of a word because that's what they do in French.<br />
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The children slept together in boys' and girls' dorms, and mostly kept to themselves, but I got to know Lucie very well. Rather than sitting at the children's table, she ate at the "vegetarian" table. She was attending with her grandmother (not at our table), who had taught her Esperanto, and she spoke very well. She sought me out because her mother had advised her to make friends with the non-French people in order to get the most out of the experience. She conducted herself so easily among the adults that I assumed she was at least 13, so was very surprised to find out that she was only ten! When I mentioned this to a French woman, she was surprised that I was surprised; apparently it's common in France for children to be comfortable speaking with adults, including initiating the conversation and showing interest in the adult. Lucie led some of the children each day in the <a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Do-the-Cup-Song" target="_blank">cup game</a> which was new to me; at Lucie's behest I tried it, but saw immediately that it was hopeless.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-43uGF-nqwdU/VcuqN9aFe_I/AAAAAAAAAnE/rRhbKITZgXw/s1600/1508-65%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-43uGF-nqwdU/VcuqN9aFe_I/AAAAAAAAAnE/rRhbKITZgXw/s400/1508-65%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucie and friend</td></tr>
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A few years ago I read a book called <i>French Kids Eat Everything</i>, and now I saw it in action. It was so refreshing to see all the children (even the three-year-olds) contentedly eating what the adults ate. Maybe they didn't eat everything, but I never heard whining or "but I don't like that" or "ugh".<br />
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I don't know whether I can generalize from a single experience, but it seemed like the European parents and grandparents (many children had come with grandparents instead of parents, and a 13-year-old boy was there completely by himself) had a much more laid-back attitude, espousing the "free range children" idea. For example, when I saw two 3-year-olds gleefully flinging sand and small rocks at each other, I thought "this is going to end in injury or at least a lot of crying". I looked around for caregivers to alert them, but there were no other adults in sight. The game, fortunately, ended without problems. Crying, actually, was very rare. The children were so infrequently with their guardians that even at the end of the week—when I knew many adults fairly well, and some of the children a bit—I still didn't know which children went with which parents or grandparents.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8W22wz62wco/VcuqOyE2jLI/AAAAAAAAAnU/3bkQzVlWhh4/s1600/1508-66%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8W22wz62wco/VcuqOyE2jLI/AAAAAAAAAnU/3bkQzVlWhh4/s400/1508-66%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The children often gathered in this spot</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X4I3cR_rf7k/VcuqRDEE2CI/AAAAAAAAAng/m5uc_VqWxAI/s1600/1508-69%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X4I3cR_rf7k/VcuqRDEE2CI/AAAAAAAAAng/m5uc_VqWxAI/s400/1508-69%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The children played with a large parachute</td></tr>
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Les finally had time to research the bird he's come to love ever since Scotland. Its call sounds like a Morse code "R", which signifies "OK" or "Roger". We've heard the bird in every country in Europe, but we never saw what bird made the sound. Les narrowed it down to a type of dove, and on a long solitary walk he finally got to see the bird making the call. It's a Eurasian collared dove.<br />
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The weather was generally very pleasant, warm but not hot. Twice there were torrential downpours, and one night thunder and lightning, very different from the drizzles we're used to in Seattle. But the rain was refreshing, and made us feel cozy in our chateau.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nwd4srryV-Q/Vc9d1MdogcI/AAAAAAAAAoA/Ap7aFc26whA/s1600/1508-83%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nwd4srryV-Q/Vc9d1MdogcI/AAAAAAAAAoA/Ap7aFc26whA/s400/1508-83%2BGr%25C3%25A9sillon.jpg" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cartoon hanging in one of the bathrooms at Grésillon</td></tr>
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With the manageable number of people, and seven days together, it was easy to get to know well a lot of the others. As always, we met some very nice people, mostly from France, but also from Sweden, Germany, China, Serbia, Ukraine, and Brazil. I sometimes wish that I had an Esperanto name, because a lot of foreigners have trouble pronouncing Arlyn; even after several days the French people especially were tentative when addressing me. "Airlyeen?" I should have chosen some name like Masha, that's easy in any language, thirty years ago. It feels like it's too late now.<br />
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For me, this was the most relaxing week of our trip so far. And more than any other Esperanto event this summer, I'm already feeling like I miss a whole group of new friends, rather than just one or two individuals.<br />
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We had a couple of chances to explore the nearby town of Baugé during the week. It's very attractive, dating from 1000 years ago. We're back in Le Mans now, and tomorrow we'll leave France after 23 days, and head for Geneva.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PtQ47Toe8ZI/VcuqN6WRQ5I/AAAAAAAAAnA/QxzdSaJ1me4/s1600/1508-62%2BBaug%25C3%25A9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PtQ47Toe8ZI/VcuqN6WRQ5I/AAAAAAAAAnA/QxzdSaJ1me4/s400/1508-62%2BBaug%25C3%25A9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scene in downtown Baugé</td></tr>
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Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-8729980525295509332015-08-07T10:20:00.000-07:002015-08-07T22:15:45.763-07:00Trélon, Paris, and Le MansAfter the weeklong Esperanto convention in Lille we took a train to Trélon, a French village close to the Belgian border. Our goal there was to finally meet my first Esperanto penpal, with whom I've been corresponding by snail-mail, then e-mail, for 29 years!<br />
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Les and I bonded immediately with Ghislaine and her husband Houcein. They were kind to us beyond words, anticipating our needs and doing all they could to make us happy. They have a wonderful garden, in which Houcein raises dozens of specimens of fuchsias, as well as vegetables and berries. He refers to the garden as "mon paradis", and it really is a haven of peace and beauty.<br />
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<tr><td style="gn: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o3U7RF7j8mA/VcN5w2L2bYI/AAAAAAAAAlI/e16wMJcm8A0/s1600/1508-14%2BTrelon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o3U7RF7j8mA/VcN5w2L2bYI/AAAAAAAAAlI/e16wMJcm8A0/s400/1508-14%2BTrelon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">A few of the many fuchsias in Houcein's "paradis"</td></tr>
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The garden was a peaceful place to work on our photos. In the picture below, behind Les on the clothesline are our freshly washed clothes. As far as I can remember (European friends will possibly be amazed), this is the first time in my life that I've hung laundry outside on a line; maybe my mother occasionally did that when I was very young, but I've never had an indoor or outdoor clothesline.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eGYPnjbSCBI/VcN5z-OitPI/AAAAAAAAAlU/NRhqqz99TWo/s1600/1508-24%2BTrelon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eGYPnjbSCBI/VcN5z-OitPI/AAAAAAAAAlU/NRhqqz99TWo/s400/1508-24%2BTrelon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Les working in the garden</td></tr>
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Ghislaine and Houcein took us to two very interesting museums. One is a former <a href="http://www.musenor.com/en/Museum/Trelon-Atelier-Musee-du-Verre-Glass-Museum-and-Studio" target="_blank">glass factory</a>, where they originally made bottles for champagne, then for perfumes. The old pot furnaces are still there, and they demonstrated the glass-making process.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bqVFg_T6faA/VcN5zXQ9UzI/AAAAAAAAAlY/fReWtpCKRAs/s1600/1508-21%2BTrelon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bqVFg_T6faA/VcN5zXQ9UzI/AAAAAAAAAlY/fReWtpCKRAs/s400/1508-21%2BTrelon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Old glass furnaces</td></tr>
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The other museum, housed in a former <a href="http://www.musenor.com/en/Museum/Fourmies-Musee-du-textile-et-de-la-vie-sociale-Museum-of-Textiles-and-Social-Life" target="_blank">spinning mill</a>, has the old equipment for every step of wool-making (from raw wool to wool fabrics), much of it in working order and used for demonstrations. This area was once the world's main producer of combed wool yarn. The museum also has a restored main street with shops from the 1880s, and lots of exhibits on the history and former life of the region. In both museums Ghislaine translated the guides' French explanations into Esperanto for us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uWA5Rg6nGxk/VcN55FxgNUI/AAAAAAAAAlo/Na_pSmythsU/s1600/1508-38%2BTrelon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uWA5Rg6nGxk/VcN55FxgNUI/AAAAAAAAAlo/Na_pSmythsU/s400/1508-38%2BTrelon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Tour of the textile museum</td></tr>
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We had a short look at ValJoly, a huge "holiday park" with swimming, boating, horseback riding, and dozens of other activities. A family could happily rent a cabin here for a week and find lots to do each day.<br />
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We had some wonderful meals with Ghislaine and Houcein, with produce from the garden contributing to salads and potages and jams. The manager of the hotel where we stayed in Lille, on hearing that we were headed to Trélon, had said that we must try the local cheese there, called Maroilles. And, by golly, at our first meal Ghislaine presented us with a tarte made with that very cheese—<i>très délicieuse</i>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JALQjQqDo8k/VcN5qxUISeI/AAAAAAAAAkw/8wOYOn1108g/s1600/1508-02%2BTrelon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JALQjQqDo8k/VcN5qxUISeI/AAAAAAAAAkw/8wOYOn1108g/s400/1508-02%2BTrelon.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Houcein preparing the Maroilles cheese</td></tr>
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After the tarte, appeared a cake for Les! It said "Ĝojan Naskiĝtagon", Esperanto for "Happy Birthday". What a nice surprise!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vVrUA1hAfNA/VcN5r5rkbjI/AAAAAAAAAk8/ofezgjTvaKo/s1600/1508-03%2BTrelon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vVrUA1hAfNA/VcN5r5rkbjI/AAAAAAAAAk8/ofezgjTvaKo/s400/1508-03%2BTrelon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Les' 71st birthday</td></tr>
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Some friends came over for a meal in the garden, and despite the language differences, we had a great time. As we've found all over Europe, it's a U.S. myth that almost everyone speaks English; very few people seem to speak it at all. (Ghislaine says that those who speak it are either in the sciences or need it for their job.) But Les is doing very well in French, and recruited Houcein to be his teacher while we were there, constantly asking for the names of things (birds, berries, nuts, etc.) and for advice on points of grammar.<br />
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When we were learning Esperanto, a lot of words were easy because they were so close to French words: "dormi" for "to sleep" and "lito" for "bed", etc. Now, after 30 years of building up a pretty extensive Esperanto vocabulary, the situation is reversed; we recognize lots of French words from knowing the Esperanto words.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
sidewalk (Eng), trotuaro (Esp), trottoir (Fr)<br />
blackbird, merlo, merle<br />
spoon, kulero, cuillère<br />
blueberry, mirtelo, myrtille<br />
ladybug, kokcinelo, coccinelle</blockquote>
Of course, in French you also need to know whether it's "le" or "la". And it dawned on us (duh), after 30 years, that the "bo" in Esperanto, a prefix meaning "in-law", is taken directly from the French "beau" for "in-law".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-veJCY2FmPR0/VcN5rwwsDYI/AAAAAAAAAlA/OFElrYNwXmc/s1600/1508-12%2BTrelon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-veJCY2FmPR0/VcN5rwwsDYI/AAAAAAAAAlA/OFElrYNwXmc/s400/1508-12%2BTrelon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Friends dining in the garden</td></tr>
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Les, by the way, learns languages so well because he's fearless about using them with whatever ability he has. While I give up after ten seconds of trying to find the words to tell a clerk at the <i>boulangerie</i> that I want whole wheat bread, and just randomly pick one of the ten bread types, Les is willing to spend two minutes describing what whole wheat bread is until he gets the person to understand. (It turns out to be pretty easy, actually: <i>pain complet</i>.)<br />
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Ghislaine organized a meeting at the local community center for me to give a slide show about living on the houseboat and about our long trip. About 20 people came. At first I spoke in Esperanto, with Ghislaine translating to French; then at the behest of some teenage girls who were studying English, I switched to English, and Fabrice translated that to French. Fabrice, a wonderful fellow we'd already met, has been teaching French and Spanish in Brighton, England, for many years, and was back home for a short visit. Les, as always, was very concerned ahead of time about being able to show our slides, because our new computer isn't compatible with older projectors, but it worked in the end and the talk went well.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">My talk at the community center</td></tr>
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Fabrice was worried about getting back home to Brighton because the ferries were on strike and getting through the tunnel from Calais to England has become problematic because of thousands of illegal immigrants trying to make their way to the U.K. When we drove past Calais a few days earlier during one of our bus excursions, we saw some of the tent camps.<br />
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At a restaurant meal in Trélon I had my first <i>profiteroles</i>—yummy! All over France we've been enjoying <i>pain au chocolat</i> and other pastries.<br />
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I know at least ten couples who have met through Esperanto, almost always at international meetings like the one we attended last week in Lille. Ghislaine and Houcein met through Esperanto, but in a unique way. Ghislaine, after 11 years of trying to learn English and not yet being able to even ask for directions, was convinced by a friend to study Esperanto. This was a language she was able to master. Meantime Houcein, in Morocco, loved learning languages. He learned French on his own while he was a student in Egypt. Back in Morocco, he found an Esperanto book and took it up. The book told how to get a penpal, so he applied and received five names. He chose Ghislaine's. For three years they wrote to each other, actually switching to French pretty soon. One time Houcein was vacationing in Prague, where it kept snowing, so he thought, "My penpal lives in France, I'll go there and meet her." He did, they fell in love, and soon married. So Houcein jokes that Esperanto brought them together! They're approaching their 45th anniversary.<br />
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We hated to leave Ghislaine and Houcein, and the feeling was mutual. We'll certainly try to get back to see them, either in Trélon or in Marrakech, Morocco, where they spend a few months every winter.<br />
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We next spent two days in Paris. Neither of us was anxious to go, not liking large cities, and even thought of just taking the train through without stopping. But we decided to come and take it easy, just getting a taste rather than trying to see a lot, and we did enjoy our time there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EnXqUzFHlG0/VcN58jK8k7I/AAAAAAAAAlw/_n2j51Ru-Rc/s1600/1508-49%2BParis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EnXqUzFHlG0/VcN58jK8k7I/AAAAAAAAAlw/_n2j51Ru-Rc/s400/1508-49%2BParis.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Montmartre</td></tr>
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We visited Sacre Coeur and Montmartre, which I recalled as my favorite place from my time in Paris 50 years ago. We walked around Notre Dame, Saint-Germain-des-Prés (I kept humming <i>The Seine</i> by the Kingston Trio), Tuileries, Champs-Élysées, in the distance saw the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. The perfect weather helped make Paris attractive. One slightly scary note, however, was the presence of young police officers everywhere carrying submachine guns.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VB9V92dZr3U/VcN59jHoDvI/AAAAAAAAAl4/iC_TSMD7naA/s1600/1508-52%2BParis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VB9V92dZr3U/VcN59jHoDvI/AAAAAAAAAl4/iC_TSMD7naA/s400/1508-52%2BParis.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Seine</td></tr>
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Our Paris hotel will stand out from the many others as having the smallest elevators we've seen: 28" by 30". They claim to hold a maximum of three people, but even two people need to be of average size or less, and it helps if they're on intimate terms.<br />
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We listened to a lot of Bach in Paris, thanks to our newly purchased audio cable that attaches our computer to the hotel room's TV, and to YouTube (thanks for that idea, Irma).<br />
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We took a train to Le Mans. We've started using the only Eurail pass we bought. It's good for ten travel days within a two month period, only in France, Switzerland, Italy, and Germany. It doesn't seem like it actually saves money over ten individual trips, but it is in first class instead of second.<br />
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Le Mans, like every European town (it seems), has an interesting old city section. The only reason we're here is because tomorrow we can take an early bus from here to Grésillon, where we'll be spending the coming week.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3wxjyk8JZYo/VcTfZH2n13I/AAAAAAAAAmM/l9uoA_x44YE/s1600/1508-57%2BLe%2BMans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3wxjyk8JZYo/VcTfZH2n13I/AAAAAAAAAmM/l9uoA_x44YE/s400/1508-57%2BLe%2BMans.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roman wall in Le Mans</td></tr>
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As I write this I'm covered in mosquito bites. We didn't have any trouble until we hit Lille, but they seem to be everywhere in France.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-41933605495295586022015-08-01T12:30:00.000-07:002015-10-17T20:55:47.345-07:00LilleWe're just finishing up a very concentrated week in Lille, France. We're two of the 2,930 participants (from 82 countries) at the Universala Kongreso (UK). That's the big annual meeting of Esperanto speakers, held in a different place each year. Some people go every year, but for us, it's only our third time; we went to Yokohama in 2007 and Reykjavik in 2013. The week is so jam-packed with classes, meetings, workshops, excursions, plays, concerts, etc., that one can only take in ten or twenty percent of all that's offered.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eqHZ8UZvzHo/Vbz6lF06-wI/AAAAAAAAAj0/bisJxGh_BZk/s1600/1507-164%2BLille.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eqHZ8UZvzHo/Vbz6lF06-wI/AAAAAAAAAj0/bisJxGh_BZk/s400/1507-164%2BLille.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 100th worldwide meeting</td></tr>
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We signed up for a lot of excursions, each time with a local Esperantist serving as guide. In places with a professional tour guide, our own guide would translate from French to Esperanto for the entire group with its many tongues.<br />
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We spent an entire day at various sites related to World War I, which was going strong in this area a hundred years ago. We visited Notre Dame de Lorette, where 20,000 soldiers are buried, and the ashes of another 22,000 (the unknown ones) are held. A huge "ring of remembrance" memorial lists, alphabetically, 580,000 soldiers killed in the area, from all countries (on both sides), with no regard to rank or nationality.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yhdNNOh5m2A/Vbo7qbqC7JI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Z9qtdKVal40/s1600/1507-136%2BArras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yhdNNOh5m2A/Vbo7qbqC7JI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Z9qtdKVal40/s400/1507-136%2BArras.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notre Dame de Lorette</td></tr>
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We found out that the memorial at Vimy actually belongs to Canada, because France gave them the 250 acres in gratitude. Vimy was so important in creating Canadian identity, that it is pictured on the $20 bill and also inside Canadian passports.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3miHAZ3qc00/Vbo7qaUb-GI/AAAAAAAAAi8/1y5k_hkJqqI/s1600/1507-140%2BArras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3miHAZ3qc00/Vbo7qaUb-GI/AAAAAAAAAi8/1y5k_hkJqqI/s400/1507-140%2BArras.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vimy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Rc26DkxaRo/Vbo7rcoZsaI/AAAAAAAAAjM/-d5EOBFIERc/s1600/1507-143%2BArras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Rc26DkxaRo/Vbo7rcoZsaI/AAAAAAAAAjM/-d5EOBFIERc/s400/1507-143%2BArras.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trenches at Vimy</td></tr>
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At the Wellington Quarry we went underground to see where 500 New Zealanders spent six months connecting old mining tunnels and creating holding areas, with the aim of tunneling under the German front lines; when the work was done 24,000 soldiers hid underground in the tunnels for a week awaiting the call to battle. (The action in that area didn't actually go well; for the next two months 4,000 men lost their lives each day.) We also visited the lovely town of Arras, which was reconstructed after being 90% destroyed during the war.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bEN_ltIZWik/Vbo7r42oDWI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/u0P2GxIDWhw/s1600/1507-147%2BArras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bEN_ltIZWik/Vbo7r42oDWI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/u0P2GxIDWhw/s400/1507-147%2BArras.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final steps up to the battlefront for those hiding in the Wellington tunnels</td></tr>
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Another all-day trip was to Boulogne-sur-Mer. Almost every Esperanto speaker knows this city, because the first Universala Kongreso was held here in 1905. The reason this year's was held nearby in Lille is because it's the 100th one; for the mathematicians out there, it's not the 111th because there were no meetings during the two world wars. For an Esperanto speaker, going to Boulogne-sur-Mer is probably a bit like a Civil War buff walking around the battlefields of Gettysburg. Our group went to the theater where the UK took place in 1905, where we watched a filmed rendition of Zamenhof's inaugural address at the 1905 meeting. The mayor greeted us, and told of plans to construct an Esperanto center in the city.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fOA9u1lwuGg/Vbz6kIehziI/AAAAAAAAAj4/3eyujOomB7g/s1600/1507-153%2BBoulogne-sur-Mer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fOA9u1lwuGg/Vbz6kIehziI/AAAAAAAAAj4/3eyujOomB7g/s400/1507-153%2BBoulogne-sur-Mer.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Statue of Zamenhof, creator of Esperanto, in Boulogne-sur-Mer</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Yg4Q7wz9eP0/Vbz6j9i72-I/AAAAAAAAAjs/ctew2Vo0HFQ/s1600/1507-156%2BBoulogne-sur-Mer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Yg4Q7wz9eP0/Vbz6j9i72-I/AAAAAAAAAjs/ctew2Vo0HFQ/s400/1507-156%2BBoulogne-sur-Mer.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Normally only the French flag or the city flag are allowed to fly over the belfry, but for this week they made an exception and flew the Esperanto flag.</td></tr>
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During our walk in the Old Town we had a strange experience. Two punks were stalking our group, following us everywhere. When we all went inside the basilica, the young men stayed outside, then hid behind a planter as we came out. We knew they were up to no good, but weren't sure what to do. Then one of them tugged on the sleeve of a member of our group while asking him for the time, presumably as a distraction so the other could pick his pockets or grab jewelry or whatever. Just at that moment a police car appeared, two officers jumped out, and they quickly had the culprits against a wall for frisking. I was very grateful! We later learned that crime is a big problem in that tourist area.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5lbQBcIhIvU/Vbz6jzJ3FLI/AAAAAAAAAjw/9ac9uvdxb8M/s1600/1507-161%2BBoulogne-sur-Mer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5lbQBcIhIvU/Vbz6jzJ3FLI/AAAAAAAAAjw/9ac9uvdxb8M/s400/1507-161%2BBoulogne-sur-Mer.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pickpockets being arrested in Boulogne-sur-Mer</td></tr>
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Another excursion was to the coal mining museum of Lewarde. We went way underground in a lift, saw lots of neat stuff in the tunnels during our 45-minute tour, then discovered at the end that ... we'd only been 20 feet down! I felt quite disillusioned to discover that it was all a reconstruction, not the real mines, but Les already had his suspicions from lots of clues that I failed to observe. The area is dotted with huge mounds of the debris from the mines, visible from miles away.<br />
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The shortest excursion was a walking tour of Lille. Our guide has lived most of his life here, so he knew everything about the old town, which is very attractive.<br />
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Lunch was provided for the two all-day excursions, and—being used to a smallish lunch—we were taken by surprise by the size of the restaurant meals. At one meal they brought out a beautiful large salad: Bibb lettuce, lovely fresh tomatoes, boiled potato, green beans, cantaloupe, etc., along with tasty fresh rolls. I finished and thought, "That was a nice meal," when suddenly they were bringing out the main course; the salad had just been the starter. I could only eat half of the main course. Then out came the beautiful dessert. We didn't have any food for the rest of the day.<br />
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When we weren't doing excursions, we enjoyed a lot of programs. An entomologist did a nice presentation about animal communication, and other experts (physicists, linguists, educators, etc.) shared their knowledge and enthusiasm about their subjects in other talks.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o1WHQzqkY5U/Vbo7ngp3J5I/AAAAAAAAAio/-uNZHFhLQBI/s1600/1507-135%2BLille.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o1WHQzqkY5U/Vbo7ngp3J5I/AAAAAAAAAio/-uNZHFhLQBI/s400/1507-135%2BLille.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A talk about animal communication</td></tr>
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The UK always does a series to teach the local language, and we learned a bit of Japanese and Icelandic that way in previous events. This time, besides a class for beginners, they did a class for those who already knew some French, and this turned out to be a favorite daily activity. The teacher was amusing and energetic, the quintessential French character—even down to the beret. Considering that I had four years of French in high school, it's embarrassing to me how little I remember, but in the class it started to come back to me.<br />
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Our favorite musical group Kajto (Kite) performed. Even better, they had a session of singing canons, one of their specialties, with the SRO crowd split into two groups for each song.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7owISuehSVA/Vbo7nxa0n9I/AAAAAAAAAiw/soR_MNCuEhA/s1600/1507-130%2BLille.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7owISuehSVA/Vbo7nxa0n9I/AAAAAAAAAiw/soR_MNCuEhA/s400/1507-130%2BLille.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Singing canons with the Kajto musicians</td></tr>
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Many of the sessions were for special-interest groups, such as mathematicians or doctors or Communists or Catholics. The only ones that fit us were the atheists and vegetarians, which both occurred during our excursions, but we did take part in a restaurant meal for 35 vegans.<br />
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We ran into a lot of familiar faces. Some people we've known for years, others were people we first met this summer at the events in Toronto, Scotland, and Slovakia. I even saw the young Korean man who shared our apartment in Herzberg. I was particularly happy to see a Polish woman who'd been in our class in Slovakia, and she'd even brought a package of yummy Polish cookies specifically to give to us. We met a nice young couple from eastern France, who, immediately upon hearing that our granddaughter wanted to come to France some day, offered to find her a place to stay in Paris with relatives. We got to meet the sweet woman from Copenhagen who had already offered to host us there. (That'll be in September.) And a real treat was to meet the Budapest couple with whom Julie lived for four months back in 1991; they told us some stories about Julie from that time that we hadn't heard before.<br />
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Our friends from Leipzig, whom we stayed with a few weeks ago, planned a vacation in the Bruges area for this week, so that they could see us again. They came down from Bruges on the first day to see the opening ceremony and have lunch with us, and then on the last day for the closing ceremony and again have lunch (this time to celebrate Les' 71st birthday). They gave Les several cute presents, among them a small wood carving of a stork family, because a few weeks back I mentioned in this blog how wonderful it was to see a pair of storks in their nest.<br />
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Just as at the first conference in Boulogne-sur-Mer in 1905, scads of people from many countries met old friends and made new ones, learned a lot, had good discussions and a lot of fun. As familiar as it's become for us now, we always marvel to see how a common second language brings people together on equal terms (without the imbalance of one having mastery of the language while the other struggles to some degree) and makes the world seem smaller.<br />
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We liked the city of Lille for several reasons. For one thing, pedestrians seem to have the right of way at most intersections; cars are supposed to watch out for them. Also, I didn't notice any tourist shops. And lots of people use scooters—not motorized ones, but the type that young children use in the U.S.<br />
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Meantime, July 27 was the 10th anniversary of the introduction of Les' Morse KOB program. He got congratulatory notes from lots of fans. We both suffered somewhat from colds this week, but are on the mend. We're two thirds of the way through our trip at this point. As always, Les is anxious to be on the move again.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-65463194568450102972015-07-24T09:53:00.005-07:002015-10-17T20:52:14.704-07:00Bratislava and BudapestBefore leaving the weeklong Esperanto class in Martin, Slovakia, I asked the organizer how many vegetarians had been in the group. It appeared that many people had been getting the vegetarian meals, which seemed unlikely, but the numbers confirmed it. Meat eaters were 34%, vegetarians were 58%, and vegans were 8%. I know that some people were just taking advantage of the opportunity to try out vegetarian eating, because a comment on the feedback board at the end expressed surprise at how easy it had been to go a week without meat. But I think it's safe to say that Esperantists have more than the normal share of vegetarians.<br />
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The train to Bratislava was another terrible one, with the corridors filled by people and luggage, and very hot; it was like being in a sauna for a few hours. But at least we had reserved seats. We had a few hours the next morning to see Bratislava, but I didn't find it at all appealing. Many buildings were crumbling or abandoned, it was colorless, even the section along the Danube seemed dreary, a lot of the streets were torn up by construction, and when I was lost at one point people were not at all anxious to help.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-63RjrggDl6c/VbCiHORxP6I/AAAAAAAAAhY/LX-cjfddSZs/s1600/1507-107%2BBratislava.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-63RjrggDl6c/VbCiHORxP6I/AAAAAAAAAhY/LX-cjfddSZs/s400/1507-107%2BBratislava.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A groundskeeper shooed Les away when he started to walk on the grass. This iconic list of "no-nos" seemed to epitomize the unfriendly atmosphere of Bratislava.</td></tr>
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Our train to Budapest was super—comfortable and not too hot. Like Prague, Budapest uses a currency different from the euro. Not having a clue about the exchange rate, we weren't sure how many forints to ask for from the ATM machine; we didn't want to end up with hundreds of dollars worth, only to have to exchange them back at the end at a bad rate. I decided to use the "pee ratio"; see how much it costs to use a bathroom at the train station and multiply by a hundred, in other words getting "a hundred pees" worth of currency. That worked out well, and we'll try it again when we get to Switzerland, another non-euro country.<br />
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We both enjoyed Budapest, despite temperatures reaching 100. A favorite was Matthias Church. I especially wanted to go there because of a description from Julie's trip there after high school graduation: "As we passed one of the churches, we heard a choir singing and went in. What I experienced there will stay with me for the rest of my life. The high arches and intricate stained glass windows were the most glorious sight I have ever seen. The acoustics in the church were indescribable...the music seemed to start even before the singers had opened their mouths and rang for seconds afterwards." Unfortunately there was no singing while we were there, but I could relish the other aspects that so pleased Julie. From there we tried to find where Julie had gone to school for four months in 1991; we're not sure we had the correct building, but at least we saw the area.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T7mq5HIXeo0/VbCh77lfPbI/AAAAAAAAAhE/SwewGNQNCVs/s1600/1507-116%2BBudapest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T7mq5HIXeo0/VbCh77lfPbI/AAAAAAAAAhE/SwewGNQNCVs/s400/1507-116%2BBudapest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthias Church</td></tr>
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We walked a lot, as usual, trying to be sure we were in our air-conditioned hotel during the hottest part of the day. I know that we missed most of the "must-see" tourist sights, but that's OK.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-192oIqS6MqU/VbCh8CPlPmI/AAAAAAAAAhM/KnD3NizSDEw/s1600/1507-111%2BBudapest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-192oIqS6MqU/VbCh8CPlPmI/AAAAAAAAAhM/KnD3NizSDEw/s400/1507-111%2BBudapest.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These sculpted shoes are a memorial to 60 Jews who were shot here in 1944 for refusing to go to concentration camps; they had to remove their valuable shoes first, and the bodies were dumped into the Danube.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We did a load of wash, and what a contrast to the laundromat in York, England! This one was bright, cheerful, roomy, and spotlessly clean, with even an appealing children's corner.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-99_8qqm2Vpg/VbCh73iHgxI/AAAAAAAAAhI/k_CvCvOEdUM/s1600/1507-108%2BBudapest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-99_8qqm2Vpg/VbCh73iHgxI/AAAAAAAAAhI/k_CvCvOEdUM/s400/1507-108%2BBudapest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a pleasure to do our laundry here!</td></tr>
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<br />
Then came the day Les has been dreading for months: the time to fly on Wizz Air to Brussels. Les knew that Wizz Air is especially strict about luggage size and weight. We paid extra for carry-ons, but even that limited us each to 10 kilograms (22 pounds) in one suitcase, no extra purse or small bag. We spent a morning disposing of anything not crucial, and Les "hid" his heavy electronic gadgets in his rainjacket pockets, because Wizz Air does allow you to carry a coat. In the end, they never weighed the bags, just eyeballed them to be sure they were the right size.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ur5R4WBk8-E/VbJj02pD50I/AAAAAAAAAhw/SZvuprsuzOc/s1600/1507-120%2BBudapest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ur5R4WBk8-E/VbJj02pD50I/AAAAAAAAAhw/SZvuprsuzOc/s400/1507-120%2BBudapest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Performing a toothpaste transfusion, moving it from the large tube to the smaller tube before discarding the large tube in our efforts to get below the Wizz Air permitted weight limit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We left the hotel, and thus began possibly the worst day so far on our trip. I knew we had to go to the end of the subway line to pick up a public bus to the airport, but I somehow chose the wrong direction, so we had to go back through 20 stops to get to the correct end. Then the bus driver wouldn't accept our metro ticket, contrary to what we'd been told, and we didn't have enough forints (because we purposely used up most of them) to buy a bus ticket. A kindhearted woman on the line sold us two spare tickets for euros.<br />
<br />
When we got to the airport, it was so jammed with people, we could hardly force our way through the crowds to get to the gate area. At security our little children's scissors raised an alarm in the X-ray machine, but they let us keep them. (We'd already that morning, with great regret, thrown out the paring knife we bought in Scotland, which had been so useful.) Despite all the delays, we'd allowed for lots of time, so I wandered around, marveling that food prices were three times what they were in downtown Budapest (where we could get a fine vegan lunch for four dollars each). With the hot weather the last few weeks, my standard comparison in each city has become the price of a cold Coke.<br />
<br />
Our plane was delayed half an hour due to thunderstorms for the incoming flights. We walked and walked to a warehouse-like area, separate from the main airport. We waited there a long time, then were led single-file to a row of planes. But, alas, our plane wasn't there, so then they herded us all back to the warehouse. No one offered an explanation, nor a guess as to whether we might be jammed in there for hours. There were about 20 seats for 180 people, so I found myself a place to sit on the concrete floor, which resulted in six large insect bites (I assume) on my neck that are still bothering me today.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S8ImDsfl-Xw/VbJj1WsFKWI/AAAAAAAAAh8/y4p7gQzEZLI/s1600/1507-121%2BBudapest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S8ImDsfl-Xw/VbJj1WsFKWI/AAAAAAAAAh8/y4p7gQzEZLI/s400/1507-121%2BBudapest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wizz Air's passenger holding area, better described as a warehouse</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Eventually we got onto our plane, and the 2-hour flight to Brussels wasn't all that bad. Except that I was sitting far from Les, because we hadn't felt like paying extra for reserved seats and just took the random seats they gave us. When we reached Charleroi Airport, south of Brussels, we tried walking to our hotel, only half a mile away (hardly anything by our standards), but there were no sidewalks; eventually we gave up and paid $9 for a taxi for the short distance. We got to the hotel at 9pm, and I immediately fell asleep in my clothes, and didn't wake up until this morning.<br />
<br />
Today was a lot better. We took the taxi back to the airport, where we hopped on a private shuttle bus to Lille. (Les says I should give the nod here to Flibco, which provided a comfortable and timely bus despite its dubious name.) To our great surprise, we found a group of Esperantists aboard, so it became like a 90-minute party. They were from Poland, eastern Hungary, and Canary Islands; like us, they all had flown in to Charleroi on their way to the Universala Kongreso in Lille.<br />
<br />
We're just vegging out today, knowing that the weeklong Kongreso, which starts tomorrow, will be very hectic and filled with activities until late at night. We bought some needed items in Lille: a paring knife to replace the one we had to discard; steroid nasal spray for Les to try to alleviate his severe hayfever/cold (he doesn't know which); a cable to be able to listen to music from our computer playlist (ironically, almost every hotel has had a TV, which we've never turned on, and it just occurred to Les that with a stereo cable he'd be able to use our computer to play music through the TV's speakers).<br />
<br />
In our spare time we've been reading a blog called <a href="http://www.onebag.com/">OneBag.com</a>. The author has good advice about packing, products, and light travel in general.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-74453132706776225152015-07-18T13:14:00.000-07:002015-07-24T09:58:41.965-07:00Prague and MartinOur trip from Leipzig to Prague didn't start well. After a change in Dresden, we found out that our reserved second-class car and one other car were not on the train, which was seriously overbooked anyway. As a result, people and suitcases were spread through the aisles. We ran quickly to first class and snabbed the last unreserved seats in a compartment, so we didn't have to join the throng standing and sitting in the corridors for the two-plus hour ride. (The Israeli man across from us joked that it looked like a train in India.) Les was prepared to fight for our seats if the conductor would admonish us for being in first-class, but nobody ever came.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l9O08OI2dic/Vaq08ohQstI/AAAAAAAAAgc/Pl2gb6-gQVI/s1600/1507-34%2BDresden-Prague.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l9O08OI2dic/Vaq08ohQstI/AAAAAAAAAgc/Pl2gb6-gQVI/s400/1507-34%2BDresden-Prague.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We avoided the fate of many: two hours crowded in the aisles.</td></tr>
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On the positive side, the train followed the Elbe River through Saxony Switzerland national park, giving beautiful views. About a week after we had that 3-hour train delay in Toronto, we got an e-mail from VIA Rail Canada offering us, as compensation, half off the price of a future train trip. Ha ha, we're wondering when the rail company here will send even an apology for removing the car with our reserved seats (which you pay extra for).<br />
<br />
We spent three nights in Prague, and felt like we could easily have enjoyed another few. We loved most everything about the city: handsome buildings, interesting neighborhoods, good transportation, inexpensive prices, multitude of vegan restaurants, not too many tourists, etc. There were many Segway rental shops, and loads of Segways in the squares and streets.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iwfhuz7NQPw/ValspU7qSRI/AAAAAAAAAfE/Ioaj4kh9N2I/s1600/1507-52%2BPrague.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iwfhuz7NQPw/ValspU7qSRI/AAAAAAAAAfE/Ioaj4kh9N2I/s400/1507-52%2BPrague.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The John Lennon wall is a popular attraction in Prague.</td></tr>
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Les liked Prague so much that he was saying that it was among his three favorite cities so far on the trip. But then, when he tried to list his favorites, there were at least five or six, so he gave up trying.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5koijRxfjFs/ValspewqbjI/AAAAAAAAAfs/8KvelBUfU_w/s1600/1507-58%2BPrague.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5koijRxfjFs/ValspewqbjI/AAAAAAAAAfs/8KvelBUfU_w/s400/1507-58%2BPrague.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the castle in Prague from a yummy vegan restaurant</td></tr>
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We still run into surprises. A few times now we've had bathtubs with a removable showerhead, but no shower curtain, making me grip the head carefully so that a bad turn of the wrist doesn't soak the room. Another surprise since arriving in continental Europe is that 99 percent of the T-shirts people wear are in English. And on some of the roads in Slovakia there were so many billboards, I could hardly believe it: every hundred feet, meaning about fifty billboards per mile, with some firms advertising on every fifth one or so.<br />
<br />
We left Prague on our "Bergfest" day. That's a term we learned from Anita, which signifies the middle of a project or workweek or whatever. It was day 67 out of 134. It was kind of fitting to be getting to the farthest place geographically on that day: Martin in Slovakia. We're here to participate in SES (Somera Esperanto Studado), a 9-day Esperanto class that's held every year in Slovakia. Many of the people who come have learned Esperanto through <a href="http://en.lernu.net/" target="_blank">Lernu.net</a> on the Internet; sometimes this is their first chance to speak face-to-face with others.<br />
<br />
Our train from Prague, supposed to take five hours, was so late to Žilina that we needed to quickly jump to our next train. But nobody spoke English and we couldn't tell which platform to go to, or even how to exit from the platform we were on. We ended up on a different train than intended, but fortunately a young woman spoke some English and told us how to recover.<br />
<br />
When we got to the dormitories for SES, it wasn't reassuring to hear "The elevators are over there, but sometimes they don't work." This is for a 10-story building! Indeed, I get the impression that the dorm was built with cheap materials in the 1960s, and has never had any improvements since then. One example: in the shared bathroom, instead of towel racks or hooks, there's a cord hanging between two vertical pipes. There's no way to close the doors without making a slamming sound, so there's a constant barrage of bangs. Speaking of doors, this is the only place I've been where you could be accidentally locked inside the room. Worst of all, the Internet didn't work in our room for the first two days, and Les had to be very aggressive to find the help he needed to get it working; for sure, Les isn't a happy camper when he doesn't have the Internet.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OWZXyVy5fVQ/ValsqOZBXsI/AAAAAAAAAfI/6268yvruLZQ/s1600/1507-62%2BMartin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OWZXyVy5fVQ/ValsqOZBXsI/AAAAAAAAAfI/6268yvruLZQ/s400/1507-62%2BMartin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Improvised hooks on the door of our dormitory room in Slovakia</td></tr>
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Another strange thing in Slovakia. We each had to fill in a form for the police with date of birth, passport number, where you're staying, etc. It had to be all in capital letters. I mistakenly put my first name without all caps, then crossed it out and did it the desired way. But no! The volunteer said that the police were very fussy, she'd fill in a new form herself. In the end, both my form and Les' were done three times before they were good enough to pass muster with the police! And during one of our bus excursions the leader asked us for identification that would show that we're old enough for the senior rate at the castle; when Les explained that he'd left our passports, drivers licenses, all identification back at the dorm, the leader was aghast that we'd travel in Slovakia without any identifying papers.<br />
<br />
We met interesting people from many countries—mostly Europe, but also Australia and East Timor. There were 190 participants from 25 countries, and the 12 instructors were each from a different country.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qd7cYgE1umw/Valsr7wqixI/AAAAAAAAAfk/YyTaM6qPqqo/s1600/1507-94%2BStre%25C4%258Dno%2BCastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qd7cYgE1umw/Valsr7wqixI/AAAAAAAAAfk/YyTaM6qPqqo/s400/1507-94%2BStre%25C4%258Dno%2BCastle.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Strečno Castle near Žilina</td></tr>
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We spent four hours each day in classes. Our teacher was wonderful, and changed activities often enough that Les, who has a short attention span, did fine. Les and I each gave a short talk in class; it's funny, because usually the idea of public speaking terrifies me, but in Esperanto it only causes a slight amount of anxiety. Les' goal for the week was to lose his American accent. Toward the end of the week a Polish woman, after chatting awhile, asked him whether he was Italian—it really made his day!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--o1mOm_cH_g/Valsq3gnjlI/AAAAAAAAAfg/BHmTshj-sIA/s1600/1507-88%2BArlyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--o1mOm_cH_g/Valsq3gnjlI/AAAAAAAAAfg/BHmTshj-sIA/s400/1507-88%2BArlyn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Les and I each gave a talk in our class.</td></tr>
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We signed up for three half-day bus excursions and one full-day one. We went to the national open air museum, a zoo, several towns, and three different castles. In each castle we had a 2-hour tour, and went 300 to 400 steps up, and the same number down—whew! On one excursion I was excited to pass a large nest with two storks in it; the Europeans around me were "ho hum, we see stork nests all the time."<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBAzpsOp-iY/ValsqhoNfSI/AAAAAAAAAfc/EoVBkoqhLGs/s1600/1507-76%2BBojnice%2BCastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBAzpsOp-iY/ValsqhoNfSI/AAAAAAAAAfc/EoVBkoqhLGs/s400/1507-76%2BBojnice%2BCastle.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bojnice Castle</td></tr>
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Afternoons were filled with talks by various participants and instructors. I gave a slide show about living on a houseboat, and also led a session of a particular word game. (Much to my surprise, one of the organizers later handed me ten euros for my contribution to the program—ha ha, who says that you can't earn money through Esperanto?—which I then put into the donation box.)<br />
<br />
Esperanto draws a lot of professional linguists, and one of them gave a talk about how to distinguish the writing of various European languages. The projector showed the first sentence of the International Bill of Rights in 40 languages, one at a time. We had a few seconds to write down our guess as to the language, then he revealed which it was, and how the writing is different from any other language (perhaps both the "a" and the "o" can have a certain accent mark). Then he'd ask if somebody in the audience would read the paragraph, and usually there was a volunteer (for Catalan, or Albanian, or Macedonian, or whatever); but if not, then the instructor would read it himself—imagine being able to correctly pronounce 40 languages. As a bonus, I learned that Norwegian has two official written standards.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-05PLJ77WAVM/ValsqZTLOUI/AAAAAAAAAfw/A8WVGKgTt6M/s1600/1507-75%2BMartin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-05PLJ77WAVM/ValsqZTLOUI/AAAAAAAAAfw/A8WVGKgTt6M/s400/1507-75%2BMartin.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One evening people shared typical foods from their countries.</td></tr>
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It was apparent that SES is geared toward the younger crowd when we saw the evening activities always went past midnight—long after Les and I had gone to bed. There were many rock bands, loved by the teens and 20-ish crowd, but our favorite evening event was a harp concert by a talented participant.<br />
<br />
Despite the sub-par dorm experience, we can't complain at all about the price. For 8 nights stay, all meals, 25 hours of expert instruction, four bus excursions including admission fees, evening entertainment by various groups, the total for the two of us was about $700—quite the deal. This has been the longest stay in one place on our trip so far. Les, with his love of lists, has kept track of every place we've stayed this year, and it's 42 for me and 41 for him (he didn't come to Merida with me in January).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nZ7mj5dya84/VapdiF6-t-I/AAAAAAAAAgA/mMSZvVD9d-k/s1600/1507-101%2BMartin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nZ7mj5dya84/VapdiF6-t-I/AAAAAAAAAgA/mMSZvVD9d-k/s400/1507-101%2BMartin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our class (one of 12) showing off our diplomas; Tim, our instructor, is the one without a diploma.</td></tr>
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Les has been bothered by hay fever since we arrived in England. It's been especially bad here in Martin, maybe because of the hay fields behind the dorm. (But they certainly are pretty to look at.)<br />
<br />
Tomorrow, after the final classes, we're taking the train to Bratislava, and the following day to Budapest. Stay tuned...Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-14779712124419970082015-07-07T14:07:00.000-07:002015-07-07T14:14:58.616-07:00GermanyThe last time I wrote, we had just gotten to Hanover, which we chose because it seemed like there wasn't much there to distract us from getting caught up on future plans. Well, we did have enough computer time, but Hanover fooled us by being quite appealing.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s0dsw1QqKWI/VZpE2zeYJtI/AAAAAAAAAc4/MAYPyR2AnTo/s1600/1506-115%2BHanover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s0dsw1QqKWI/VZpE2zeYJtI/AAAAAAAAAc4/MAYPyR2AnTo/s400/1506-115%2BHanover.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanover</td></tr>
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From Hanover we went to Herzberg, a small town in the foothills of the Harz mountains. We'd learned a few years ago about this place which calls itself "The Esperanto City", and it was actually quite interesting in that regard. Signs to various attractions are in both German and Esperanto; the names of trees around the lake are posted in German, Latin, and Esperanto; there's a big statue of Zamenhof, the founder of Esperanto, next to the post office, with a large Esperanto flag next to it constantly flying; some of the proprietors, such as at a Korean teahouse we ate at, speak Esperanto. The Esperanto Center has one copy of each of thousands of books, plus scads of magazines, similar to a Library of Congress.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U0_IIrY5v28/VZpE2LhZS0I/AAAAAAAAAc0/pj_35oYaZiA/s1600/1506-130%2BHerzberg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U0_IIrY5v28/VZpE2LhZS0I/AAAAAAAAAc0/pj_35oYaZiA/s400/1506-130%2BHerzberg.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Esperanto Center in Herzberg has a full set of flags to greet visitors, and they flew the US flag in our honor.</td></tr>
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Through Pasporta Servo, Petro, the man responsible for most of these features, put us up at an apartment donated by the city for visiting Esperanto volunteers. Our housemates were a man our age from southern Germany and a young fellow from Korea, both helping out at the Esperanto Center for a few weeks. The apartment had a kitchen, and it was nice to be able to do a bit of cooking, even if in a minimalist way. We had some good talks with Petro about the current state of affairs in Herzberg and Germany. One day he took us to a nearby town in the national park, to have lunch at a hotel run by Esperanto speakers. A lot of Esperantists are drawn there, and we spoke with one from Lyons, France; he was on his way to Copenhagen, where—by chance—he planned to stay with the same woman who's offered us accommodations there in September. <i>Malgranda mondo</i> (small world)!<br />
<br />
Next we went to Berlin, where we stayed with Dennis and his wife and two young children. They live in a 6th floor penthouse with a nice view over the city. We spent an entire day seeing various parts of Berlin by foot and—using an all-day transit pass—by bus, tram, U-bahn, and S-bahn (always SRO on the last two). We saw the Brandenburg Gate, Tiergarten Park, Kurfürstendamm, the Holocaust memorial, a comprehensive exhibit about the Berlin Wall, and several less touristy parts of the city. Berlin didn't actually appeal to us very much—too gritty, too much graffiti, and definitely too much smoking. We decided that what we like in a city is: clean, no graffiti, no smoking, calm traffic, no honking, public transportation, locals seem happy, no tourists, vegan pubs, buskers, a lot of flowers or other color. One thing I did like in Berlin was all the families on bikes; even 3-year-olds confidently ride their bikes across busy intersections on the green light.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u9JqmGuvTrc/VZpE0viitDI/AAAAAAAAAcs/9In0JKn7vG8/s1600/1507-08%2BBerlin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u9JqmGuvTrc/VZpE0viitDI/AAAAAAAAAcs/9In0JKn7vG8/s400/1507-08%2BBerlin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Meine-Deine game</td></tr>
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We enjoyed Dennis' children. The 2½ year old liked playing a game with Les, swapping his own cap and Les' cap back and forth, each time saying "Meine ... deine". He enlisted me to help play with a favorite train; he was always grabbing my wrist while insisting that I "Komm mit!" I'm always interested in features of the education system in other countries, and I learned that in Berlin it's typical for children to start all-day "kindergarten" (what we would call daycare or nursery school) at age one or two. It's thought to be good for them, more stimulating than being at home; I can understand that—no harried mother setting them in front of a TV in order to do the wash or prepare dinner.<br />
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We next headed to Leipzig for five days, which we'd been looking forward to for many months, because our dear friends live there. The original contact was Annelore, Les' first Esperanto penpal, and he visited them in 1988, 1989 (with Julie), and 1990. Annelore and her son visited us in Seattle soon after the fall of the Berlin Wall (a dream none of us had believed possible), and her daughter Anita lived with us for a few months while doing an internship at Fred Hutch, and has since visited with her two children. I finally got to Leipzig for the first time two years ago, so I already knew that our stay there would be like being at home in the midst of our long trip (we're almost at the halfway point).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pu2S_KDyMUU/VZw1eSZYMdI/AAAAAAAAAeI/MNdIRrF53PE/s1600/1507-15%2BLeipzig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pu2S_KDyMUU/VZw1eSZYMdI/AAAAAAAAAeI/MNdIRrF53PE/s400/1507-15%2BLeipzig.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anita keeps track of the time in Leipzig, Seattle, and the town where her brother lives in Australia.</td></tr>
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This is the 1000-year anniversary for Leipzig, so an exciting time to be here. We saw some interesting things: a huge exhibit on the history of the former East Germany, an exhibit about the Jews of Leipzig (part of Jewish Week), the new Metro. But mostly we enjoyed bountiful meals with Anita's family, starting with breakfasts each day of rolls, many kinds of cheese, tomatoes, Nutella, etc. One day the extended family gathered in Annelore and Werner's garden in nearby Wölkau, a fun time centered around even more eating, until we had to halt because of a thunderstorm. This was actually a relief because the temperature had been 95 that day. Conversations with the large group are interesting, because each person speaks varying degrees of English, German, and Esperanto, so there's a lot of side translating. We went with Annelore to the monthly Leipzig Esperanto meeting, and watched her weekly round dance class.<br />
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One evening we were concerned about a planned anti-Islam demonstration, which is apparently a regular occurrence that also brings out an anti-protest group as well as scads of police, clogging traffic around Anita's downtown home. But—perhaps because of the heat—only a small group showed up this time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DpDBiZmdGiU/VZpE38BUoUI/AAAAAAAAAdM/5_X1lF6Sv6w/s1600/1507-17%2BLeipzig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DpDBiZmdGiU/VZpE38BUoUI/AAAAAAAAAdM/5_X1lF6Sv6w/s400/1507-17%2BLeipzig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While biking in Bruges, my shoes got some grease on them. Anita and Werner (both doctors) cleaned up my shoe with ether in Werner's clinic (part of his house).</td></tr>
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One day we took the train to Dresden for a few hours. Unfortunately, the 95-degree weather prevented us from enjoying it as much as we should have. On the trip down, we noticed a tourist steam train in Radebeul, so of course Les had to stop there on the way home to check it out. We spent two hours exploring this nice town.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G0BkJwYYn9M/VZwhVHqg4HI/AAAAAAAAAd0/5DGPOHpLzvY/s1600/1507-19%2BDresden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G0BkJwYYn9M/VZwhVHqg4HI/AAAAAAAAAd0/5DGPOHpLzvY/s400/1507-19%2BDresden.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dresden</td></tr>
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Julie and Anita had been special friends, and Julie was also much beloved by Annelore; consequently her name came up very often, and we all felt like she was with us during our stay in Leipzig.<br />
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While we were in Berlin, Les' server at the boat stopped working. We'd gotten rid of all responsibilities, except for this one. It wasn't a major disaster, just a slight inconvenience for some of the people who use Les' Morse code program. With the help of our boat neighbor Dick, Les was able to diagnose the problem (a tripped GFI breaker) and fix it from afar.<br />
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We sent our second package home, this time a whopping six pounds. With weather in the 90s it was time to bag the long underwear, hat, gloves, and other warmish clothing. And some things that seemed like good ideas in Seattle turned out to be unnecessary. For instance, I never once used my little reading lamp because my Kindle has a built-in light. Live and learn.<br />
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We've had a good time in Germany. Tomorrow we take the train to Prague for a few days, and then to Martin in Slovakia. We're going to miss our "home away from home" in Leipzig.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-1540658617100712662015-06-28T01:04:00.000-07:002015-10-11T00:46:55.732-07:00Belgium<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpO5JOuneEs/VY8DKKdk0kI/AAAAAAAAAbs/Y5IYXp-n49A/s1600/1506-88%2BBruges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpO5JOuneEs/VY8DKKdk0kI/AAAAAAAAAbs/Y5IYXp-n49A/s400/1506-88%2BBruges.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruges is filled with beautiful canals.</td></tr>
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We spent five nights in Belgium. The Eurostar took us quickly, smoothly, and quietly from London to Brussels, where we changed trains for Bruges. Through Pasporta Servo, we stayed with Bart, an Esperanto speaker, and his 16-year-old son. Bart hosts people several times a year. And to be sure that his son has contact with other <i>denaskuloj</i> (native Esperanto speakers), over the years they've visited about 40 families in 20 countries, including Canada, Siberia, and Tanzania. They also go to many family get-togethers in Europe; actually, we met Bart and his son two years ago at a family gathering in Xanten, Germany.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nOU5O9vRtG0/VY8DKsyNatI/AAAAAAAAAcE/khGrqtV6MiE/s1600/1506-90%2BBruges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nOU5O9vRtG0/VY8DKsyNatI/AAAAAAAAAcE/khGrqtV6MiE/s400/1506-90%2BBruges.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These colorful rooflines reminded us of Amsterdam.</td></tr>
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Bart, who has lived most of his life in Bruges, spent two days giving us a most thorough tour of his beloved city, sometimes on foot, but mostly by bike. (Bart has 9 bikes!) We felt like natives riding around behind Bart, because Bruges is crowded with bikes. Maybe even more than in Amsterdam, every street has a bike lane, and the rules protect bikes from cars at crossings. Bart had our heads spinning with information about the history, architecture, economy, customs, etc. of the beautiful town. For example, why the citizens take such good care of their swans, and why a certain house has a garage that's camouflaged to hide its purpose.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4WzMEXpET44/VY8DLFUBbHI/AAAAAAAAAcM/l_AiCc5qP8o/s1600/1506-91%2BBruges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4WzMEXpET44/VY8DLFUBbHI/AAAAAAAAAcM/l_AiCc5qP8o/s400/1506-91%2BBruges.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bart and me—we biked until my fanny was sore!</td></tr>
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Part of the technique Bart used was to lead us through a "murder mystery" that he devised for visiting Esperanto groups. Using about a hundred numbered photos, Les and I had to find a path that passed each one in turn, collecting clues along the way. I'm embarrassed that I could eliminate only two of the four murder suspects, but the hours on the game were very worthwhile for noticing many local details. We visited several hidden-away <a href="http://www.trabel.com/brugge/bruges-godshuis.htm" target="_blank">god house</a> communities, which are actually houses built ever since the 14th century for poor families; they're so attractive and peaceful that Les and I would like to be poor in Bruges and live in one.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hlppjz9aM14/VY8DLq9cBjI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/qGDa2Kq2e80/s1600/1506-96%2BBruges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hlppjz9aM14/VY8DLq9cBjI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/qGDa2Kq2e80/s400/1506-96%2BBruges.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artists were invited to respond to the question, "What if the 5 million annual visitors to Bruges all decided to live there?" We liked all the creative installations, but these tree houses were my favorite.</td></tr>
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We took a train back to Brussels, where we stayed with another Pasporta Servo family. This was Sauro, his wife Annalisa, and two sons aged 11 and 13. Sauro and Annalisa are both from Italy, and both work for the EU. The boys speak Italian, French, some Dutch and English and Esperanto, and are learning Latin. I was interested to find out about the several schools in Brussels geared for children of EU workers who might be stationed there for a few years; they have "sections" for various languages, where the curriculum is similar to what it would be in their home country, so that when they move back there, they're at a similar level with their classmates. For instance, Sauro's older son is in an Italian section, where he learns math and history and some other subjects from Italian textbooks.<br />
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Annalisa was the ultimate Italian cook. We felt like we were in culinary heaven: marvelous soups, pastas, semolina gnocchi, etc., and jams and pesto made from the produce of their small back garden. Even delicious apple juice that the boys had made from apples as part of a school project. And wonderful cheeses, including a huge wedge of Parmesan made by a friend in Italy from her own cows. We're certainly going to miss those marvelous smells, sights, and tastes in the coming days.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MqyccYYqYHo/VY8DKNvx7_I/AAAAAAAAAb4/Q5Tgo8AlKAo/s1600/1506-102%2BBrussels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MqyccYYqYHo/VY8DKNvx7_I/AAAAAAAAAb4/Q5Tgo8AlKAo/s400/1506-102%2BBrussels.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our hosts in Brussels own this 5-story house, and our room was on the very top floor—69 steps up (our window was above the eaves). It felt special!</td></tr>
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As if their wonderful hospitality weren't enough, Sauro is trying to arrange for us to stay with his parents (also Esperanto speakers) in Bologna after our Italian conference in September. (And Les has recently made a new Esperanto friend in Copenhagen, who's invited us there in September, so our "unplanned" final three weeks are beginning to flesh out.) About Brussels itself, we took lots of trams and walked a lot. The weather got about as hot as its been on our trip so far: 75°F.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BElz2m_gYYE/VY8DJ99hW-I/AAAAAAAAAbw/sCPobSH20aU/s1600/1506-103%2BBrussels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BElz2m_gYYE/VY8DJ99hW-I/AAAAAAAAAbw/sCPobSH20aU/s400/1506-103%2BBrussels.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Atomium in Brussels was made for the 1958 World's Fair, similar to the way the Space Needle was the centerpiece of Seattle's World's Fair in 1962.</td></tr>
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Next we took a train to Hanover. As always, Les liked to clock the train's speed, and we watched it reach 150 mph—a completely smooth ride, as always. What a civilized way to travel! Except that the train suddenly had a failure (the explanation was that part of the train broke, so after failing to fix it, the working part was used to tow the defective part), causing us to arrive in Hanover an hour late—not a problem because we didn't need to make a connection. There were periodic announcements giving status updates, but they were all in German. A Lebanese passenger sitting next to us translated them to English for us. We learned how to say "thank you" in the Lebanese dialect of Arabic.<br />
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Hanover is just a way station to catch up on things; we chose it because it didn't seem to have a lot of attractions. We've found we need to allow one day a week of "down time" just to get caught up, work on future plans, and decompress. We're in a nice hotel, but since leaving Britain we miss the ubiquitous hotel teakettles.<br />
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By the way, one of our hosts gave us the nicest compliment. He said, "You appear elderly, but you act youthful." My translation sounds a bit stilted, but in Esperanto it came across as spontaneous and natural.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-14971732195478039772015-06-21T12:25:00.002-07:002015-10-12T19:31:14.547-07:00EnglandIn my last posting we were about to leave Scotland. I had mentioned how we really liked Stirling, and as we were leaving I discovered yet another reason to like it. I had been told that some inconspicuous doors off the pedestrian plaza were entries to a shopping mall, and we had a few minutes to spare, so I thought I'd check it out. Ha, ten minutes were not enough to even race through it. It was huge, with over 80 shops. And yet so tastefully hidden from sight that I didn't know it was part of the downtown area I'd traversed several times. Congratulations, Stirling, for camouflaging these modern stores so as to maintain the charm of the old city.<br />
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On the train trip to York, Les managed to photograph the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falkirk_Wheel" target="_blank">Falkirk Wheel</a>. This engineering marvel lifts boats from one canal to another.<br />
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We spent three days in York. It's a historic town founded by the Romans, with many attractions. We should have liked it, but somehow it didn't grab us. The main reason we went was for the National Railway Museum; it was huge and had excellent displays, the kind of thing Les usually loves, but the British trains didn't evoke childhood memories the way Canadian and U.S. trains do, so even that was a bit of a disappointment.<br />
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It probably didn't help that we were staying in a dubious hotel. We were forewarned by the reviews: some of them said it was a good value for the money, while others warned "If you're thinking of staying here—don't!" It was the Ryanair version of a hotel, cheap with a lot of extras you pay for. Want a towel? You can have that for a price. You can either make your bed and unmake it at the end, and sweep the room, or you can pay us to do that for you. It was far from the train station and the old town, so we did a lot of walking. As in other cities, we also walked many miles in the residential neighborhoods that most tourists never see. (CityMaps2Go shows pedestrian paths that don't usually appear on regular maps.)<br />
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Our luck seemed to turn sour in York. The laundromat we went to was crowded and seedy. When I used my umbrella that Les had fixed with dental floss (the umbrella that broke in the wind at Luss), it broke again. From so much tightening in the winds of Scotland, the backband of Les' cap broke, so we bought a tiny sewing kit, but the thick fabric immediately broke the needle! Several efforts at getting cash from ATMs didn't work, for various reasons. I stepped off a curb to get around a car poking out too far in a driveway, and got the finger from a motorist who had to swerve a bit around me. My hand brushed against some bushes encroaching on the sidewalk, and it must have been something akin to stinging nettle, because my knuckle hurt for an hour. You get the idea—no catastrophes, just many annoyances in York.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hMN9nrJWfbE/VYW943JpwVI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9pXRhfFJZ8E/s1600/1506-51%2BLeeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hMN9nrJWfbE/VYW943JpwVI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9pXRhfFJZ8E/s400/1506-51%2BLeeds.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Leeds librarian helped me find old maps showing where my relatives lived.</td></tr>
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So we said good riddance to York and took a bus to Leeds. As in Denny, this was a genealogical quest. My great-grandparents moved from Lithuania to Leeds and married there, and my grandmother lived there almost thirty years until moving to New Jersey. The family lived in about ten places while working in the tailoring trade, and my quest was to find some of them. The library cheerfully provided us with a dozen maps from that period, and our new friend from the Scotland Esperanto meetings helped with research, so we traipsed around to where the addresses used to be, and found (as expected) that the locations were now parking lots, highways, and new buildings. We couldn't even visit the cemetery to look for gravestones, because it was closed a few years ago after the ground starting caving in due to a labyrinth of coal mining tunnels underneath. But lots of old buildings still remain, and I liked to imagine my ancestors passing by them.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8cJFBYg7gfo/VYW98cMwuMI/AAAAAAAAAag/CswSmUd5asA/s1600/1506-64%2BLeeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8cJFBYg7gfo/VYW98cMwuMI/AAAAAAAAAag/CswSmUd5asA/s400/1506-64%2BLeeds.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A plaque in the Leeds City Museum describes the situation for my grandmother's family.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aLobJP_OVjA/VYW95MMtFxI/AAAAAAAAAaM/LtHGZw1Xd1k/s1600/1506-55%2BLeeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aLobJP_OVjA/VYW95MMtFxI/AAAAAAAAAaM/LtHGZw1Xd1k/s400/1506-55%2BLeeds.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stall in the Kirkgate Market in Leeds, the largest covered market in Europe; Marks and Spencer started here</td></tr>
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We really liked Leeds. It's a gritty city, but that was part of the appeal. No tourists, it seemed. Les doesn't feel sorry anymore for my family who had to live there. We needed two trips to see even part of the Royal Armouries Museum with its huge collection of weapons from every period. Les fulfilled a lifetime dream by shooting a crossbow there. Les bought some good needles and was finally able to repair his cap. The only downsides to Leeds were lots of litter and lots of smokers on the streets.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aWMnwVk_Nmw/VYW97w4_gkI/AAAAAAAAAaY/DIOKRMdyibI/s1600/1506-60%2BLeeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aWMnwVk_Nmw/VYW97w4_gkI/AAAAAAAAAaY/DIOKRMdyibI/s400/1506-60%2BLeeds.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Les shot a crossbow at the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l40tp-OmBd8/VYW944jKVYI/AAAAAAAAAaE/gJeSVZj88k0/s1600/1506-58%2BLeeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l40tp-OmBd8/VYW944jKVYI/AAAAAAAAAaE/gJeSVZj88k0/s400/1506-58%2BLeeds.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OK, call me unsophisticated—this was my favorite exhibit at the Armouries.</td></tr>
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Then came the day we've both been anxious about for months: the first time driving a car on the left side of the road. We rented a small car for two days to see the cluster of Yorkshire towns where Les' mother's family came from. (This was the last of our three genealogical quests.) Les found that he didn't mind driving on the left, nor controlling the gear shift with his left hand (from his flying years as a teenager that seemed pretty natural), but the freaky part was the narrow two-lane roads, no shoulders or sidewalks, with stone walls on both sides, and cars often parked partially in the roadway (effectively creating a narrow one-lane road). But we survived our 121 miles of driving (which felt like 500), and now know what it might be like if we rent a car while in New Zealand.<br />
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I hadn't done my research well, so we were thrown by the first town we explored: Huddersfield. I expected a small village, but it was much larger, with lots of confusing traffic. We got lost, but serendipitously ended up in the area where Les' great-greats had lived, and then got out of town as quickly as we could. The next day we ventured for an explore of Meltham, which turned out better. We saw the neighborhoods where Les' grandparents had lived, and the town is still small and unspoiled by progress. The scenery in this area is terrific: high hillsides filled with neatly organized fields of all shades of green, separated by stone walls, with the occasional town that seems to be suspended in time.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n2ldA0cWW3A/VYW98wsNLQI/AAAAAAAAAak/yj31lXM5ZJw/s1600/1506-74%2BHeptonstall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n2ldA0cWW3A/VYW98wsNLQI/AAAAAAAAAak/yj31lXM5ZJw/s400/1506-74%2BHeptonstall.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Cars trying to pass on the main street of Heptonstall</span></td></tr>
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For the first time on this trip, we stayed with an Esperanto speaker via Pasporta Servo. This turned out to be the best part of the Yorkshire foray. Our new friend Michael lives in Heptonstall, a village straight out of an 18th century novel. Way up on a hill, cobblestoned narrow main street, one-lane dirt side streets, the requisite old pubs and churches, etc. Michael's house was a stone barn built in 1830, converted to a house in 1990, tastefully furnished, complete with a profusive perennial garden. The nearby town of Hebden Bridge is also charming, with not a single modern chain store. Michael told us that many visitors come to visit Sylvia Plath's grave in the vicinity. We learned a lot about Britain from talks with Michael; for instance nobody in Europe uses the term "chunnel". So between this wonderful stay with Michael, and surviving the driving experience, these two days in West Yorkshire are very memorable.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yIhFEKfxf98/VYXCuRfuKQI/AAAAAAAAAbA/igrCgEf6C3I/s1600/1506-77%2BLondon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yIhFEKfxf98/VYXCuRfuKQI/AAAAAAAAAbA/igrCgEf6C3I/s400/1506-77%2BLondon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Ben struck the hour of 8 as we walked by on our first day in London.</td></tr>
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Next stop was London for three nights. Neither of us was looking forward to this; I felt like I'd seen it already during my ten days here fifty years ago, and neither of us likes big cities. We didn't even download a map beforehand. As a consolation for having to spend the time here, we sprang for a luxurious place, at least by our standards: a DoubleTree in Pimlico. Another consolation was that there are several Whole Foods in London, and our big goal the first evening was the branch a half hour walk from the hotel. I bought food for three days of meals for less than one dinner at our hotel would have cost (and better nutritionally); what joy to select quinoa, grilled tofu, and steamed kale from the salad bar! Along the way on the long walk, we happened to pass by many famous landmarks: Buckingham Palace, Parliament, St. James Park, Big Ben, Picadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square. Somewhere along the walk Les discovered that he actually was enjoying the city!<br />
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The second day we went by boat to Greenwich, which had been our only sightseeing goal. It felt like a pilgrimage to Les, and I enjoyed the village. Les had fun turning on his GPS and photographing the displayed longitude of 0°0'. Getting off the boat back at Westminster, we found ourselves in the middle of an anti-government demonstration. There were about 25,000 protesters, and 7,000 police officers. The next day we went to the Tower of London and the British Museum, and walked about six miles. We accidentally came upon a parade in honor of the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. (The Royal Armouries had had a good exhibit on the battle.) More and more we're discovering that what we really like to do in cities is just walk around in the quieter areas, away from the crowds.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EgDs3uDgbWE/VYW9-xndpgI/AAAAAAAAAa0/tBiF8yfoBIE/s1600/1506-81%2BLondon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EgDs3uDgbWE/VYW9-xndpgI/AAAAAAAAAa0/tBiF8yfoBIE/s400/1506-81%2BLondon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An anti-government protest</td></tr>
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Unfortunately Les has developed hay fever in this past week. This was surprising, until we read that southern England is experiencing soaring pollen levels. But the symptoms responded well to antihistamines.<br />
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A new experience this week was mailing a package home. In the interests of weight, we've disposed of most papers we get at conferences and such, but some items we want to keep. Buying a sturdy envelope for the one pound of stuff and sending it by surface mail came to about $10. Another new experience was more important, because it was something we'd been anxious about: haircutting. We've cut each other's hair for more than 40 years, and I hate the idea of anybody besides Les doing mine. And yet we couldn't bring our scissors (security issue) or our clippers (weight issue). So we did haircuts with the pair of children's scissors we purchased our first week, plus the trimmer feature of Les' shaver. Amazingly, we're both very happy with our haircuts.<br />
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Oh, and that reminds me that I discovered a new way of cooking. My digestive system needs lots of vegetables; a slice of tomato and piece of lettuce on a sandwich just doesn't do it. (I miss the green smoothies I often made in Seattle.) So I buy packages of precut vegetables (carrots, broccoli, string beans, etc.) Problem is that I'm not fond of raw vegetables. I came up with a solution when I realized that every hotel in the UK (yes, even our "Ryanair" hotel in York) provides an electric kettle. I use the paring knife we bought early in the trip to cut up the veggies into ½ inch pieces, put them into a ceramic cup, add boiling water, and cover the cups. Sometimes I add a vegetable bouillon cube. After ten minutes we eat our "soup", with the <i>al dente</i> vegetables.<br />
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One advantage of our relatively swank hotel is that for the first time we have high-quality loudspeakers at our disposal, which means that we can hear music from the playlist on our computer. We've both missed having our favorite music playing in the background. (Earbuds or headphones just don't cut it.)<br />
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When we were initially planning our trip, Les really wanted to have a central location for several months, and do all our traveling from there. That wasn't really practical, with the conferences in such far-flung areas, so we adopted the method we're using. Les has discovered, to his surprise, that he actually likes being on the go all the time and living out of a backpack. We're just past the one third point of our trip. Tomorrow we head to continental Europe.<br />
<br />Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-406880980374687982015-06-10T12:13:00.000-07:002015-10-10T15:00:43.226-07:00Helensburgh, Stirling, and Edinburgh<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our bus trip on Friday from Fort William to Luss more or less paralleled the railroad, and yet was somewhat different, so we were glad to see the same beautiful scenery again from a slightly different viewpoint. At Luss we waited 20 minutes in the rain for our next bus to Helensburgh, the site of our Esperanto meeting. Helensburgh, a half-hour west of Glasgow, is a pretty town on the Clyde River.<br />
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This was the annual meeting of the Scottish Esperanto Association—like Toronto, a 3-day event. It was held at a lovely old hotel. About 25 people were there, including several from Ireland and England, one from Armenia (the president of the Armenian Esperanto Society), and a group of five from Bialystok (the birthplace of Zamenhof, the creator of Esperanto). We were interested to find out that the EU had paid the travel costs of the Poles, as part of a program to encourage cultural exchanges among the various nations in the union.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ds_XX88RVwE/VXddlO6Ku-I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/aTGnFSlVxwY/s1600/1506-20%2BHelensburgh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ds_XX88RVwE/VXddlO6Ku-I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/aTGnFSlVxwY/s400/1506-20%2BHelensburgh.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having fun at the Kongreso</td></tr>
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The meeting was a combination of interesting talks and two long excursions. We had a chartered bus to Luss on Loch Lomond, and again (like the previous day when we waited for our bus transfer) it was pouring there. So, instead of spending our three hours enjoying the scenic village and the loch, we mostly huddled in souvenir shops and in our bus, venturing out each time there was a break in the rain. Les, who always enjoys a good storm, was probably the only one in our group who didn't mind the weather.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rHtgIYreyU8/VXddlBd0aAI/AAAAAAAAAYY/cAswlSvn4FM/s1600/1506-16%2BLuss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rHtgIYreyU8/VXddlBd0aAI/AAAAAAAAAYY/cAswlSvn4FM/s400/1506-16%2BLuss.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Les' favorite moment of the trip so far was this piper playing in front of the old church in Luss where a wedding was taking place inside.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some hardy swimmers jump into Loch Lomond on a cold, wet, and windy day. Note my blown umbrella.</td></tr>
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Another excursion was to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hill_House%2C_Helensburgh" target="_blank">Hill House</a>, a place famous for its architecture.<br />
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We liked the fact that not every minute was filled; rather, there were lots of scheduled coffee breaks. These, along with the fact that a few others, like us, stayed an extra night at the end, meant that we got to know several people quite well. I was glad to see that, even though most participants had English as a native tongue (not the Armenian woman and the Poles), everyone spoke Esperanto all the time, and at a very high level. The funny thing is that even though many spoke Esperanto with a Scottish accent, I had little trouble understanding them, whereas occasionally when I'd hear them speak English (such as ordering in a restaurant), I missed many words.<br />
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One talk was on language rights, another on the history of Esperanto films. A woman gave a talk about her grandfather, John Logie Baird, who lived in Helensburgh and was one of the inventors of television. I gave a 30-minute talk about living on a houseboat. Les created the "slide show" for this over the past few months. I'll be doing my talk at least once more this summer.<br />
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For those of you new to this blog who want to know more about Esperanto, I discussed it in a <a href="http://arlynkerr.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/esperanto.html" target="_blank">previous posting</a>. Or look at a <a href="http://www.theverge.com/2015/5/29/8672371/learn-esperanto-language-duolingo-app-origin-history" target="_blank">recent article</a>. The article mentions Duolingo, a popular free site for learning a foreign language. Since Esperanto became Duolingo's 13th language a couple of weeks ago, 20,000 people have signed up for its Esperanto course. (Certainly most of those just want to check it out, and won't continue for long, but it's nice to see so much interest.)<br />
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Monday we took a local train to Glasgow, traveling with two Esperantists returning to England (yes, even then we continued to speak Esperanto with them—it seemed more natural that way), and then a fast train (Les clocked it at 100 mph at times) to Stirling, where we stayed a few days in a friendly B&B. The first day we went by bus to Denny, where Les' great-great-grandfather emigrated from when he settled in Montreal. That man's son (Les' great-grandfather) kept a journal most of his life, and especially interesting is his trip to Scotland in 1893 to see where his father had come from. The journal, plus our genealogical research, gave us clues about where the family lived in Denny, so it was fun to see what the places look like presently. In the cemetery we found a stone for a whole generation of the family in the 1800s.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">King Street in Stirling. The Golden Lion Hotel is on the right, our B&B is immediately opposite on the left.</td></tr>
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Tuesday we explored Stirling on foot. It was once the capital of Scotland, and is famous for its castle. I was surprised to see that the town library was built by Andrew Carnegie, who was born near Stirling; I had thought that Carnegie only built libraries in the U.S., but a web search showed me that he did it in many countries. We also checked out a hotel (the Golden Lion, built in 1786) across the street from our own lodging, because it's where Les' great-grandfather stayed during his 1893 visit. (And he would have seen our B&B, because the building was there also in 1893.) As we walked around, we noticed many elderly people using canes; it seemed strange until we concluded that, whereas in the U.S. people get a knee or hip replacement as their joints deteriorate, here the people just buy a cane. The train station ticket booths thoughtfully provide an attached "walking stick holder". (Turns out we were wrong. Our kind B&B host tells us that hip and knee replacements are common procedures here also.)<br />
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Although Stirling wasn't in our original plan, we're very glad we ended up spending a few days in this attractive town. It probably helped that the sun finally came out; now it's sunscreen and sunglasses instead of long underwear and rain jacket. It's about 70 degrees, a lot better than the high 80s it's been in Seattle this week!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yhuxm9jIDrg/VXddmXOxXYI/AAAAAAAAAYk/CP3z7etaeLQ/s1600/1506-21%2BHelensburgh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yhuxm9jIDrg/VXddmXOxXYI/AAAAAAAAAYk/CP3z7etaeLQ/s400/1506-21%2BHelensburgh.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These chimney pots are iconic in Scotland.</td></tr>
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Today we took the train to Edinburgh <span style="background-color: white;">and back. We spent four hours there, walking almost the entire time</span>—<span style="background-color: white;">along Princes Street and the beautiful parallel gardens, the Old Town, and the Royal Mile. The place was teeming with tourists. We were almost always within earshot of a corner bagpipe player, and at noon they did a 21-gun salute from the castle. I'm sure that some people who've been there will think, "That's a crime, to devote such a short time there", but we felt quite satisfied with our day. The way Les sums it up is: "Glasgow is fun, Edinburgh is breathtaking, and if I had to choose between them, I'd pick Stirling."</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edinburgh Castle</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edinburgh's "Royal Mile"</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I've been reading about a book a week since we left, the same as usual. A friend asked me whether I was buying books for my Kindle, and the answer is no, I get them from the King County Library System, just like when I'm at home. I made a list beforehand of about 20 books that looked good and were available from the library in electronic format, and Les downloads one to the Kindle each time I need it.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">I've gotten used to looking right first before crossing streets (Les adapted a railroad safety mantra for me: "Cars can come at any time, in any lane, from any direction"), but I'm having trouble remembering to walk on the left side of sidewalks and staircases. Also, I can't seem to internalize that 07/06/15 means June 7th, not July 6th.</span><br />
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We've had a great two weeks in Scotland. Tomorrow we'll be on the train to York for our new adventures in England. Stay tuned.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-51735354078617105692015-06-04T13:04:00.001-07:002015-10-10T12:19:54.461-07:00Glasgow and the HighlandsWe've had a lovely first week in Europe. We flew from Toronto to Glasgow. During our four-hour layover in Reykjavik, I pondered the best way to spend the $10 in krónur left over from our trip to Iceland two years ago; with the exorbitant airport prices, I was able to get a Coke, a small juice bottle, and a chocolate bar.<br />
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I tried sleeping pills for the first time, before we took off from Toronto, but they had no effect, and I was awake for 31 hours. That first night in Glasgow I slept 12 hours, then 10 hours the following couple of nights. We were surprised that neither of us had jet lag, maybe because it was only a 5-hour difference this time, instead of 8 or 9.<br />
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Although we had all the details of our trip planned until that point, we had decided to retain flexibility in Europe, so for our entire long stay in Scotland, we had only signed up for the Esperanto meeting in the middle, and reserved a room for the first night in Glasgow. That turned out to be a problem, because there was a big football match going on (the Scottish Cup), and most places were booked solid for the following nights. But we lucked out and snagged a place at a lovely guesthouse for three more nights. We discovered later that their breakfast choices were typical, though more extensive: fresh fruit salad, baked beans, scrambled eggs, sauteed tomatoes and mushrooms, tasty porridge with nuts and seeds and dried fruits, toast with Nutella, pastries, orange juice, and tea. When we finally got hungry again hours later, we got to enjoy the many vegan pubs—we tried three different ones, and liked them all. The pubs allow children and (sometimes) dogs, so they have quite a different atmosphere from Seattle pubs. Les adapted well to the local customs: every day for six sequential days he had a pint (different brand each time) at a pub!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3T-vNuhObrU/VW4WQ5PxHJI/AAAAAAAAAXM/gAg-JQSl8hY/s1600/1505-94%2BGlasgow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3T-vNuhObrU/VW4WQ5PxHJI/AAAAAAAAAXM/gAg-JQSl8hY/s320/1505-94%2BGlasgow.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We loved Glasgow's vegan pubs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our transportation in Glasgow</td></tr>
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We spent two solid days riding around on a "hop-on-hop-off" tourist bus. We saw several nice museums, of which Les' favorite was the Riverside Transport Museum, better than any we've seen in the States. The Kelvingrove Art Museum had a feature I've never seen in the U.S. (although I'm sure it exists): a room devoted to art appreciation; it was geared to teenagers, probably, but we found quite interesting the analysis and commentary on 25 or so paintings and other objects.<br />
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Everything we'd heard beforehand led us to expect little of Glasgow—that it's an industrial, sooty city, only good for shopping, not anywhere as beautiful as Edinburgh, etc. But it turned out that we both fell in love with Glasgow. The vibrant feeling downtown, the festive atmosphere in the huge pedestrian mall, with lots of buskers, the architecture, the university, the diverse museums (all free!), the friendliness all around, it just won our hearts. Our bus entering downtown one day had to stop for five minutes to let a marching band go by; I asked the guide whether it was some sort of holiday, and he answered, "No, they just like to amuse themselves." I like a city that doesn't take itself too seriously. :-)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oW0mlTLd22k/VW4QVMd0CgI/AAAAAAAAAWo/7RfdfnIcc0c/s1600/1505-93%2BGlasgow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oW0mlTLd22k/VW4QVMd0CgI/AAAAAAAAAWo/7RfdfnIcc0c/s400/1505-93%2BGlasgow.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Les admired the organ at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum</td></tr>
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The only problem was that we felt we were in a foreign country whose language was only slightly familiar. Often we couldn't understand a word of what was said to us, so thick is the Glaswegian accent. For instance, Sauchiehall Street is pronounced "Sohkeehoh". But we got somewhat used to it, and we did learn that we had to introduce ourselves as "Care", not "Cur"; the people here obviously are the experts on a good Scottish name.<br />
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The very first item of business in Glasgow was to get a SIM card for our cellphone. Now we have a UK phone number that we can give to our Esperanto hosts over the next few months, in case they need to reach us. When Les filled in the account information, one of the options for title was "Lord", so he chose that rather than "Mr."<br />
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When Les first tried to re-charge our laptop, he got a scare: the adapter that he'd bought at Rick Steves for use in the UK doesn't accept a grounded US plug. But fortunately he was able to plug his continental Europe adapter into the UK adapter, and it was slim enough for the grounding pin to float in mid-air.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dhFyn4-VQMc/VW4QVDPYWGI/AAAAAAAAAWg/PbBX9HAQJBg/s1600/1505-92%2BGlasgow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dhFyn4-VQMc/VW4QVDPYWGI/AAAAAAAAAWg/PbBX9HAQJBg/s400/1505-92%2BGlasgow.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My granddaughter is a big fan of Doctor Who, so I recognized this as a TARDIS</td></tr>
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I want to put in a plug for a free app called CityMaps2Go. A friend clued us in to it a few weeks ago, and it's been really helpful. You pre-load your mobile device (a Nexus mini-tablet, in our case) with a map of a city; then when you're in that city, you can easily zoom to where you want, ask where a landmark or restaurant is, find the distance from your current location, etc. The best part is that once you've loaded the map, you don't need a network connection to use it.<br />
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A few things surprised us. Often electrical wall outlets have their own switch right on the outlet itself. Food in cafes and sandwich shops have one price if you "eat in", and a cheaper price for "take away". That makes a lot of sense to me, and I've sometimes been surprised in the U.S. to see the opposite, where there's an extra charge for take-away, despite it being cheaper for the shop. People in Glasgow cross on red pedestrian lights all over the place, and many times we saw vehicles swerve at the last minute to avoid hitting pedestrians. Also, cars park in random directions along the curb. It's very hard to know the street names; if they're there at all, you find them high up on the side of a corner building.<br />
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Sometimes things (such as having to pay 50 cents for the train station bathroom) remind me of my first trip to Europe exactly 50 years ago, when I did ten weeks of hitchhiking and staying in hostels. (I didn't return to Europe until two and half years ago.)<br />
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The most disruptive surprise came when we tried to book a train back from Mallaig. The ticket clerk informed us that a rail strike was scheduled for that day, and we would be better off returning by three buses instead of the one train. Later the strike was called off, but we had already bought the bus tickets. Apparently these kinds of short strikes are quite common in Europe, so we'd better get used to it.<br />
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After four nights in Glasgow, we went west to the sea. We took the 5½ hour train to Mallaig, and Les—a big rail buff who's done lots of wonderful train rides—says it was the most scenic he's ever done. This is the scenery shown when Harry Potter takes the train to Hogwarts. The vistas in the Highlands were constantly changing. We saw sheep everywhere, small wild deep-pink rhodies, and Scotch Broom; I'm sure that many people in Seattle, allergic to this plant, would say they should have kept it in Scotland.<br />
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We were seated next to a retired couple from Sydney, Australia, on their way to doing their second walking tour in the Highlands. I had heard about these walking trips, where an outfitter will set you up with lodging every night, and take your packs to your next destination each day, while you walk 10 or 12 miles. Maybe on another trip ...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9X1BrGolXj4/VW4QaGFt3JI/AAAAAAAAAWw/VXQ_sXNwQCM/s1600/1506-02%2BMallaig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9X1BrGolXj4/VW4QaGFt3JI/AAAAAAAAAWw/VXQ_sXNwQCM/s400/1506-02%2BMallaig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our hotel room in Mallaig</td></tr>
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We arrived in Mallaig in a driving rain, but we weren't surprised. The prognosis had been for gale warnings, gusts up to 70 miles per hour. (Yes, even with the metric system, in the UK they still measure distances in miles and speeds in mph. However, the clearance at a bridge might be given in meters, so you have to expect both systems.) Actually, we love the weather reports, because they are so poetic, with phrases like "a dull wet morning with some heavy spells of rain", "blustery showers", "extremely unsettled", "becoming rather chilly in sheltered glens", or "a freshening southeasterly wind developing". Anyway, the rain made it all the more satisfying when—after a five-minute walk—we reached our quaint hotel, complete with a real crackling fire in the fireplace of the main hall. By complete coincidence it was our 48th anniversary, and we felt lucky to have had such a wonderful day for it.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M_WZXrfYNR8/VW4WPZ5k7yI/AAAAAAAAAXE/0-XNxEJY0w0/s1600/1506-05%2BMallaig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M_WZXrfYNR8/VW4WPZ5k7yI/AAAAAAAAAXE/0-XNxEJY0w0/s400/1506-05%2BMallaig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Harry Potter" steam train pulls into Mallaig</td></tr>
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We spent two nights in Mallaig, then took a bus to Arisaig, another coastal town. The bus went on back roads next to the sea, and the day was clear for a change, so it was a most pleasant ride. A friendly Scotsman next to us explained how senior residents of Scotland can ride buses (and some ferries) for free throughout the country—wow, what a deal! We had thought of kayaking in the bay of Arisaig, but it was too windy; it seems like everywhere we've been since leaving Seattle, the wind has followed us. I've worn my long underwear and overpants for the past few days.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eBBRPmlfSJo/VXCdqPCPO1I/AAAAAAAAAXg/vzCgSbz4nts/s1600/1506-08%2BArisaig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eBBRPmlfSJo/VXCdqPCPO1I/AAAAAAAAAXg/vzCgSbz4nts/s400/1506-08%2BArisaig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arisaig harbor</td></tr>
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In these small towns, the cafes seem expensive and the menus not very enticing, so we've lived for several days on grocery-store fare: bread, hummus, mini Bonbel cheeses, packages of raw vegetables (typically a combination of broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots), room-temperature cans of baked beans, and instant oatmeal packets (every lodging provides an electric teapot). I long for the wonderful tofu I found in Glasgow grocery stores, smoked and studded with almonds and sesame seeds.<br />
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Today we took the bus to Fort William. Our big quest here was to wash our clothes, the first time in Europe. Turned out we had to take a bus to a "launderette" at a small shopping center miles out of town. Whereas in Seattle a wash and dry costs under $5, this load—including the bus fares—came to $18!<br />
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Here and in Arisaig, we discovered the way to get lodging on short notice. Even if all the reasonable places online show no vacancy, call one up, and they always know a place nearby that you can phone. These small places have no Internet presence at all, so I assume they get all their customers by referral. It does confirm that it was a good idea to get the SIM card right away. These small places don't ask for credit card information (actually they take only cash); they just trust that you will turn up if you say you'll be coming.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sQ7G9HTb_CM/VXCdqCkMcCI/AAAAAAAAAXs/c5MTIYMEal8/s1600/1506-11%2BFort%2BWilliam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sQ7G9HTb_CM/VXCdqCkMcCI/AAAAAAAAAXs/c5MTIYMEal8/s400/1506-11%2BFort%2BWilliam.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Usually we chuckle at the unusual words on signs, but this time it was the sketch!</td></tr>
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Tomorrow we're off to Helensburgh for our second Esperanto gathering. Meantime, at the 4-week mark (out of 19) Les, as usual, claims "This is the best vacation ever!"Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-79264641802699591252015-05-27T11:28:00.001-07:002015-05-27T11:28:34.906-07:00Last stop in North America<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nTNKWmi0gQg/VWHZy0ZiLjI/AAAAAAAAAVU/sj0KEDgspqc/s1600/1505-63%2BKingston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nTNKWmi0gQg/VWHZy0ZiLjI/AAAAAAAAAVU/sj0KEDgspqc/s400/1505-63%2BKingston.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Downtown Kingston as seen from Fort Henry</td></tr>
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We took a train to Kingston, Ontario, where we spent six days with Les' sister Mary. Kingston is a historic place (the first capital of the province of Canada), and had some interesting sights: Fort Henry, Royal Military College, Marine Museum of the Great Lakes, locks on the Rideau Canal that connects Lake Ontario with Ottawa, Penitentiary Museum, Queen's University, farmers market, ferry to a nearby island. One day we drove to Gananoque and Charleston Lake, stopping on the way for the Military Communications and Electronics Museum and the MacLachlan Woodworking Museum.<br />
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When we travel I always use <a href="http://www.happycow.net/" target="_blank">HappyCow</a> to find vegan/vegetarian restaurants, and it didn't fail in Kingston, where we found two nice places downtown. One of Les' favorite stops was the Kingston Olive Oil Co., with hundreds of samples of oils and vinegars. I took advantage of my last chance for cooking, which I know I'll miss over the next few months.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PaaWfeDo4ek/VWHZyp7QBDI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/PrrAapyLMwA/s1600/1505-69%2BKingston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PaaWfeDo4ek/VWHZyp7QBDI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/PrrAapyLMwA/s400/1505-69%2BKingston.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a wonderful lunch at The Sleepless Goat</td></tr>
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Mary has a puppy named Paddington, a mixture of Bichon Frise and Shih Tzu. At first I was wary of him, as I always am with new dogs, but Paddington won me over through the course of the week.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P-AoAdJJe_w/VWHZyY0t6mI/AAAAAAAAAVM/jhDgD_ts3jk/s1600/1505-77%2BKingston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P-AoAdJJe_w/VWHZyY0t6mI/AAAAAAAAAVM/jhDgD_ts3jk/s400/1505-77%2BKingston.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paddington</td></tr>
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Our days were sometimes jam-packed, with lots of city walking and sightseeing, other times very relaxing with Mary and Paddington. We next went by bus back to Toronto, to spend a couple of days with Judy B., who's been a good friend since our Cornell days 48 years ago. We went to Black Creek Pioneer Village, where we used to bring David and Julie when they were toddlers and we lived in Toronto, and we poked around the University of Toronto campus.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7TXtE9D2l88/VWW7XtQ2KpI/AAAAAAAAAV4/EFrl7jGDK_c/s1600/1505-79%2BToronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7TXtE9D2l88/VWW7XtQ2KpI/AAAAAAAAAV4/EFrl7jGDK_c/s400/1505-79%2BToronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They were filming <i>Anne of Green Gables</i> at Black Creek Pioneer Village</td></tr>
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But mostly we lazed away our last days in North America. We closed a loop by eating lunch at the restaurant that the Esperanto group ate at 11 days ago, a meal we missed due to the train accident. It was so hot that we ate on the patio—our first sidewalk dining this year. And Judy introduced us to <a href="http://www.yelp.ca/biz/dr-laffa-toronto-3" target="_blank">laffa</a>, similar to pita, and yummy with falafel, eggplant, coleslaw, and other fillings. As a bonus, Judy showed me the easy way to peel an orange; I can't believe the stupid way I've been doing it all my life.<br />
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Tonight we'll fly to Glasgow, via Reykjavik, to begin our European adventures.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-34921951640802736682015-05-18T12:35:00.001-07:002015-05-18T12:42:32.755-07:00MeKaRoWe've spent the last six days in Ontario. We flew from Minneapolis to Detroit on Spirit Airlines, for which we have high praise. We took a shuttle van across the border to Windsor, where we rented a car for two days in order to get to Point Pelee. This is the most southern point of Canada, and a famous birding area.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Do9zG-8NhHo/VVo5afiRjbI/AAAAAAAAAUI/U8UI02uRpZM/s1600/1505-39%2BPoint%2BPelee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Do9zG-8NhHo/VVo5afiRjbI/AAAAAAAAAUI/U8UI02uRpZM/s400/1505-39%2BPoint%2BPelee.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Point Pelee, the southernmost point in Canada; Lake Erie in the background</td></tr>
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It was spring migration season, with hordes of birders searching the treetops and beaches, carrying humongous scopes and cameras. With not even a pair of binoculars (can't spare the weight), and not much ability in identifying by sound, we didn't get to see any "new" species or anything, but enjoyed the variety of terrain on several trails, with ten or so different species chattering in the background. We drove many back roads in the area, a pretty farming region between Lake Erie and Lake St. Claire.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B0JMBWqPQj4/VVo6WEMBt5I/AAAAAAAAAUc/qfexuytfoLs/s1600/1505-55%2BToronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B0JMBWqPQj4/VVo6WEMBt5I/AAAAAAAAAUc/qfexuytfoLs/s400/1505-55%2BToronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Toronto skyline, as seen from Toronto Island</td></tr>
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Our train ride to Toronto turned out to be eventful. After four hours, and with only 10 kilometers to go (in Canada now, need to use the metric system), our train hit and killed a pedestrian. I just felt some bumps, but Les sensed immediately what had happened. By law, the train had to stay put until a police investigation was complete. After two hours, several buses appeared, and the passengers were evacuated from the train to complete the journey by bus.<br />
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We were therefore late to MeKaRo, the <i>Mez-Kanada Renkontiĝo</i>: a 3-day Esperanto event held every year in either Ontario or Quebec.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1LMC44YszE/VVo6VtwT4wI/AAAAAAAAAUY/sz-LfXo57R8/s1600/1505-46%2BToronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1LMC44YszE/VVo6VtwT4wI/AAAAAAAAAUY/sz-LfXo57R8/s400/1505-46%2BToronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We played a getting-acquainted game the first evening at MeKaRo</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sPbYx78-QdI/VVo6VsHuXrI/AAAAAAAAAUU/6cvPhlh4ldw/s1600/1505-48%2BToronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sPbYx78-QdI/VVo6VsHuXrI/AAAAAAAAAUU/6cvPhlh4ldw/s400/1505-48%2BToronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of several walking tours with fellow Esperanto speakers</td></tr>
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The thrust of MeKaRo is always tourism in the city where it's held. We checked into our dorm, and hurried to catch up with our group doing a walking tour of ethnic neighborhoods of Toronto. Other days we had a tour of Roundhouse Park (Toronto's rail history center, which Les of course loved), took a ferry to Toronto Island where a guide led us in an old lighthouse, and had a tour of the provincial parliament (Toronto is the capital of Ontario). MeKaRo is geared to the younger generation; the first day's events went until midnight, but we didn't last that long, and the next day we reluctantly passed up the late evening "haunted tour of Toronto" because we were just too tired from already walking about eight city miles. We ate all our meals together in various restaurants.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JTIkVrgJn_8/VVo6Vm1ho1I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/Emq1ueDbigc/s1600/1505-53%2BToronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JTIkVrgJn_8/VVo6Vm1ho1I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/Emq1ueDbigc/s400/1505-53%2BToronto.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had special permission to climb to the top of this lighthouse</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6HobjKgacow/VVo6WSnjXRI/AAAAAAAAAUg/XH6FipMs2i0/s1600/1505-57%2BToronto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6HobjKgacow/VVo6WSnjXRI/AAAAAAAAAUg/XH6FipMs2i0/s400/1505-57%2BToronto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The provincial parliament building is very impressive</td></tr>
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Though visiting the sights was fun, the best part—as is always true at Esperanto events—was seeing old friends and meeting new people. A record sixty-one participants, from age 3 (yes, a good speaker already) to over 80, and from Ontario, Quebec, and several parts of the U.S. About a third were French speakers, but that was irrelevant as we all spoke Esperanto.<br />
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Tomorrow we'll take a train to Kingston, Ontario, and hopefully the ride will not be as memorable as the last one. :-(Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-8745614798084817022015-05-12T17:30:00.001-07:002015-05-13T11:59:11.702-07:00MinnesotaThis is our last night in Minnesota, and we've had a wonderful time here. We stayed at a nice old hotel in St. Paul for the first three nights. We got to know the light rail and bus system very well, using it to see the Minnesota History Center, the U of M campus, farmers market, Stone Arch Bridge, and other attractions in both St. Paul and Minneapolis.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UBcgYDWRoeY/VVI1XKJ0AcI/AAAAAAAAASw/t4i4YjyaH24/s1600/1505-09%2BWeisman%2BArt%2BMuseum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UBcgYDWRoeY/VVI1XKJ0AcI/AAAAAAAAASw/t4i4YjyaH24/s400/1505-09%2BWeisman%2BArt%2BMuseum.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weisman Art Museum on the University of Minnesota campus</td></tr>
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Biggest disappointment of the trip so far (for Les, anyway): finding out about <a href="https://www.extremesandbox.com/" target="_blank">Extreme Sandbox</a>, where you can operate full-size earth-moving equipment, and then discovering that it's open Wed.-Sat., but we were only available Sun., Mon., and Tues. Bummer!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Emz9kGh8yIA/VVI2G8H12qI/AAAAAAAAATE/2jNO6N__FwE/s1600/1505-16%2BMississippi%2BRiver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Emz9kGh8yIA/VVI2G8H12qI/AAAAAAAAATE/2jNO6N__FwE/s400/1505-16%2BMississippi%2BRiver.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paddling on the Mississippi River</td></tr>
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With Les' cousin Madeleine and her husband Dave, we paddled in their kayak and canoe on the Mississippi River; I'm embarrassed to admit that we hadn't even realized beforehand that the Mississippi came this far north.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ARZB-3zqJ-4/VVI5R0OjC4I/AAAAAAAAATk/p3QO2Q0CDns/s1600/1505-18%2BStillwater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ARZB-3zqJ-4/VVI5R0OjC4I/AAAAAAAAATk/p3QO2Q0CDns/s400/1505-18%2BStillwater.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stillwater's lift bridge across the St. Croix River</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6EYF8V8KvPc/VVI2HKxtLyI/AAAAAAAAAS8/EtTTMGg6ezs/s1600/1505-19%2BStillwater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6EYF8V8KvPc/VVI2HKxtLyI/AAAAAAAAAS8/EtTTMGg6ezs/s400/1505-19%2BStillwater.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Elephant Walk B&B is filled with art objects from Thailand</td></tr>
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Then we rented a car and drove to Stillwater, where we're staying at the wonderful <a href="http://www.elephantwalkbb.com/" target="_blank">Elephant Walk B&B</a>. Host Rita makes beautiful and delicious four-course breakfasts, so filling that lunch is not necessary. We explored a lot of the St. Croix Scenic Byway, which follows the river that forms the border between Minnesota and Wisconsin. Actually, Les fell in love with Osceola, a small town on the Wisconsin side with a Mayberry feel to it and a historic railroad operation. It was sometimes cold enough that I wore everything I could find from my small bag to supplement my summery clothing: long underwear, lightweight nylon rain jacket and overpants, fleece cap, and knit gloves.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qe__0VCsjgM/VVI2HHPAfhI/AAAAAAAAAS4/zILTbGP5Tws/s1600/1505-23%2BOsceola.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qe__0VCsjgM/VVI2HHPAfhI/AAAAAAAAAS4/zILTbGP5Tws/s400/1505-23%2BOsceola.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Les fell in love with Osceola, a small town in Wisconsin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WG_MFajqrLI/VVI2HyGWp7I/AAAAAAAAATI/3ZdsnmxpzZ0/s1600/1505-26%2BMarine%2Bon%2BSt%2BCroix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WG_MFajqrLI/VVI2HyGWp7I/AAAAAAAAATI/3ZdsnmxpzZ0/s400/1505-26%2BMarine%2Bon%2BSt%2BCroix.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave & Madeleine's "barn" houses 24 canoes and kayaks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Dave took us to Interstate Park with its amazing glacial potholes. Also amazing is Dave's "barn" (a large, garage-like structure), filled with boats. Dave and Mad live on a lake, one of the state's 10,000; we saw only 25 or so. Dave prepared his North Canoe, which can be paddled by up to ten people, and we towed it to a boat launch on the St. Croix River. Then we had a potluck nearby with some other paddlers, a wonderful group, and after a couple of hours the consensus was that—since it was drizzly and cold—we'd all rather keep partying. We'll save the huge canoe for next time we visit the area, along with Extreme Sandbox. :-)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pMdhPw_Q-qk/VVI4mqEp01I/AAAAAAAAATc/FEV30-2H_-E/s1600/1505-31%2BInterstate%2BPark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pMdhPw_Q-qk/VVI4mqEp01I/AAAAAAAAATc/FEV30-2H_-E/s400/1505-31%2BInterstate%2BPark.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trees grow out of the rocks at Interstate Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tomorrow we fly to Detroit, take a shuttle van south(!) to Windsor, Ontario, where we'll start the next phase of our adventure.Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-8387991384517681972015-05-06T22:09:00.003-07:002015-05-08T05:35:28.664-07:00We're on our way!We closed up the Pied-a-Mer and started our big trip today. Our first destination? West Seattle! Yes, the first leg of our journey was just a ten-mile bus ride. This may be the best decision we've made so far. Our flight to Minneapolis doesn't leave until tomorrow morning, but we were anxious to get started and this made for a much more relaxed departure from the houseboat. We're spending our first night with friends in West Seattle, who treated us to a wonderful dinner, and we had a fun game of Scrabble.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ycTOk_PPWgA/VUrjmfw7CpI/AAAAAAAAARI/P6uj-dm4dyU/s1600/1505-03%2BChina%2BHarbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ycTOk_PPWgA/VUrjmfw7CpI/AAAAAAAAARI/P6uj-dm4dyU/s1600/1505-03%2BChina%2BHarbor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All packed and ready to go</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IBVEMTvj9CU/VUrlTutgQYI/AAAAAAAAARk/QMbHS1wYlmI/s1600/1505-02%2BChina%2BHarbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IBVEMTvj9CU/VUrlTutgQYI/AAAAAAAAARk/QMbHS1wYlmI/s400/1505-02%2BChina%2BHarbor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Locking up the boat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a1_vXwRjKQI/VUrjp5HMMsI/AAAAAAAAARY/Ab4De1jCepA/s1600/1505-05%2BChina%2BHarbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a1_vXwRjKQI/VUrjp5HMMsI/AAAAAAAAARY/Ab4De1jCepA/s1600/1505-05%2BChina%2BHarbor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our good friends at the dock gave us a warm send-off</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Before we left, several friends had us over for a meal, and my hiking group gave Les and me a wonderful going-away party. One of the Trekkers wrote this poem for the occasion:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Your bags are all packed.<br />
Your belongings are stacked.<br />
Round the world you will go<br />
Speaking Esperanto.<br />
Just be sure, very sure to come back.</blockquote>
Yesterday we took our car to a friend's place in Bellevue and left it in her garage. We disconnected the battery and put fuel stabilizer in the gas tank. When we went to lock the doors with our remote, we were surprised that it didn't work. Duh, we had disconnected the car's battery, right?<br />
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Today we prepared the Pied-a-Mer for leaving it unoccupied for the next four and a half months. We turned off the heat, disconnected the water, shut off the propane, turned off the fridge after giving away all our unused food, serviced the composting toilet, and removed batteries from the smoke alarms (so a possible low battery alarm wouldn't annoy the neighbors).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CMYNtJN2VNI/VUrxaWUG2-I/AAAAAAAAASQ/PNGK-q5ewqE/s1600/1505-06%2BWest%2BSeattle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CMYNtJN2VNI/VUrxaWUG2-I/AAAAAAAAASQ/PNGK-q5ewqE/s1600/1505-06%2BWest%2BSeattle.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of our first day, as seen from our friends' house in West Seattle: <br />
the sun setting behind the Olympics in the background, Bremerton ferry in the foreground.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We're looking forward to the days, weeks, and months to come. <i>If you'd like to be notified of future blog articles, sign up in the sidebar to the right. This sidebar also has links to archived articles, and a link to our itinerary. </i>Send me an email if you have trouble getting these features to work.<br />
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Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-37254089840950178982015-04-06T18:20:00.002-07:002015-04-06T18:20:43.969-07:00PortlandWe're back from our second and last "shakedown cruise", so to speak. This was a 9-day trip to Portland. We stayed in the condo of my high school friend, who lives in New Jersey but keeps the condo for when she visits her grandchildren in Portland (and generously lets her friends use it). The condo was quite luxurious, yet very homey, and in a good location near the Rose Garden and Nob Hill neighborhood. We enjoyed meeting my friend's son, his wife, and young twin boys, all for the very first time.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-44n2xzfos-A/VSMp5trnbSI/AAAAAAAAAO8/M2OW-Wvk7aY/s1600/1503-57%2BWooden%2BShoe%2BTulip%2BFarm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-44n2xzfos-A/VSMp5trnbSI/AAAAAAAAAO8/M2OW-Wvk7aY/s1600/1503-57%2BWooden%2BShoe%2BTulip%2BFarm.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tulips were blooming early this year</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o0kQIKTrgkI/VSMqJIAssSI/AAAAAAAAAPE/QsFjp3A2hXU/s1600/1503-59%2BOregon%2BCity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o0kQIKTrgkI/VSMqJIAssSI/AAAAAAAAAPE/QsFjp3A2hXU/s1600/1503-59%2BOregon%2BCity.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only outdoor municipal elevator in the country<br />
connects the upper and lower parts of Oregon City</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-23FmuDDcmAs/VSMqbw1AKiI/AAAAAAAAAPM/WrYvEdlB850/s1600/1503-48%2BEsperanto%2BMeeting%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-23FmuDDcmAs/VSMqbw1AKiI/AAAAAAAAAPM/WrYvEdlB850/s1600/1503-48%2BEsperanto%2BMeeting%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the weekly meeting of the Oregon Esperanto group, everybody was<br />
looking up the translation of an obscure word on their various gadgets</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PDcVuEjkNC8/VSMq5pdna5I/AAAAAAAAAPU/cT8bgyV80mw/s1600/1503-47%2BWood%2BDuck%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PDcVuEjkNC8/VSMq5pdna5I/AAAAAAAAAPU/cT8bgyV80mw/s1600/1503-47%2BWood%2BDuck%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were many wood ducks at the rhododendron garden</td></tr>
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Over the years we've probably been to Portland at least a dozen times, but during our seven days we managed to find a lot of places that were new to us: Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden, Reed College campus, Oregon City, Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm in Woodburn, OMSI (science center), Railway Heritage Center, Hoyt Arboretum, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Audubon center, Lan Su Chinese Garden, and Bob's Red Mill factory tour in Milwaukee. We attended the weekly meeting of the Portland Esperanto group. We walked for miles on most days, on both trails and city streets. We went on every mile of the various streetcar lines.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rHBUt85yPh0/VSMrPDa0EHI/AAAAAAAAAPc/m32LXG6z9c4/s1600/1504-02%2BBob's%2BRed%2BMill%2B-%2BMilwaukee%2C%2BOR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rHBUt85yPh0/VSMrPDa0EHI/AAAAAAAAAPc/m32LXG6z9c4/s1600/1504-02%2BBob's%2BRed%2BMill%2B-%2BMilwaukee%2C%2BOR.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tour at Bob's Red Mill was very interesting, but photos<br />
of the production line were not permitted</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CpoJfY6JXFw/VSMrk-ZZReI/AAAAAAAAAPk/CrwUMteeMGQ/s1600/1504-08%2BMill%2BEnds%2BPark%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CpoJfY6JXFw/VSMrk-ZZReI/AAAAAAAAAPk/CrwUMteeMGQ/s1600/1504-08%2BMill%2BEnds%2BPark%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mill Ends Park is the smallest park in the world,<br />
according to the Guinness Book of Records</td></tr>
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We drove to Portland the fast way, stopping at Nisqually Delta and the Discovery Historic Loop Trail in Vancouver. After our week in Portland we spent a night at the Flying L Ranch near Mt. Adams. Coincidentally it was Easter weekend, so we participated in a potluck dinner there Saturday evening. We drove on a wonderful scenic road from Glenwood to Goldendale, up to Yakima, and the back roads around Umtanum Ridge, before heading home.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E60HhlFeJFA/VSMr2s1VPBI/AAAAAAAAAPs/kMcHvqoo0gA/s1600/1504-15%2BMt%2BAdams%2BLodge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E60HhlFeJFA/VSMr2s1VPBI/AAAAAAAAAPs/kMcHvqoo0gA/s1600/1504-15%2BMt%2BAdams%2BLodge.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our lodge in Glenwood had a view of Mt. Adams</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a fabulous week. Les wrote to his sister on the fifth day: "Having a fantastic time in Portland. Have lost track of time. Haven't felt so free and independent in my whole life. It's exhilarating!" His two favorite experiences on the trip were: (1) meditating in the Chinese Garden during a rainstorm (see <a href="http://arlynkerr.blogspot.com/2015/03/i-love-rain.html">previous blog entry</a>), and (2) being lost on the back roads near Umtanum.<br />
<br />
In preparation for the big trip, we experimented with Dropbox for storing our documents and photos in "the cloud". It worked out very well. And since Pandora doesn't work outside the U.S., we tried using YouTube for background music. Once we figure out how to avoid annoying ads and mid-stream interruptions, it might be a reasonable substitute for Pandora. The real problem, though, will be the lack of decent loudspeakers.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T8N6Ts647zE/VSMtvZfznfI/AAAAAAAAAP4/-es3yauZNik/s1600/1504-03%2BOMSI%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T8N6Ts647zE/VSMtvZfznfI/AAAAAAAAAP4/-es3yauZNik/s1600/1504-03%2BOMSI%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even with one block missing, Les was able to construct an arch bridge at OMSI</td></tr>
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Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-66253295602180121422015-03-31T19:52:00.000-07:002015-04-07T22:49:39.128-07:00Les loves rainHi. This is Les, your guest blogger for today. We're here in Portland this week, staying at the condo of Arlyn's friend. Arlyn will post a summary of our trip in a few days, but I want to write about an experience we had today that may prove to be my fondest memory of the whole trip.<br />
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The weather has been generally sunny since we arrived in Portland, but there was rain in the forecast for today. We planned to do a walking tour of downtown, and one of our destinations was the Chinese garden.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Btc-rI5kvJA/VR35BidjE4I/AAAAAAAAAOM/m9rbXX6DHp4/s1600/1503-64%2BChinese%2BGarden%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Btc-rI5kvJA/VR35BidjE4I/AAAAAAAAAOM/m9rbXX6DHp4/s1600/1503-64%2BChinese%2BGarden%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portland's Chinese Garden</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While we were there, a heavy rainstorm passed overhead. We quickly found shelter from the rain under a nearby pagoda. The garden, which had been full of visitors before the rain, suddenly was almost empty.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v4ZJs9aiI9k/VR36CTr3BFI/AAAAAAAAAOU/OR7roL2S9EI/s1600/1503-66%2BChinese%2BGarden%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v4ZJs9aiI9k/VR36CTr3BFI/AAAAAAAAAOU/OR7roL2S9EI/s1600/1503-66%2BChinese%2BGarden%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking shelter from the rain</td></tr>
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It was very pleasant to hear the rain on the roof of the pagoda and see the patterns the drops made on the surface of the pond. I took advantage of the opportunity for twenty minutes of sublime meditation while we waited for the rain to let up.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i18MVEssFZQ/VR38DBi2c2I/AAAAAAAAAOg/k9y9j6oRVHY/s1600/1503-67%2BChinese%2BGarden%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i18MVEssFZQ/VR38DBi2c2I/AAAAAAAAAOg/k9y9j6oRVHY/s1600/1503-67%2BChinese%2BGarden%2B-%2BPortland.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raindrops on the pond</td></tr>
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We had our rain jackets and light-weight travel umbrellas with us, so we continued on to Powell's. It made us feel confident that we're well prepared for the unpredictable weather we might run into in Scotland two months from now.</div>
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Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7733499464994149680.post-25979569728150379472015-03-17T09:10:00.000-07:002015-10-05T19:00:57.931-07:00Shakedown tripWe've had a wonderful trip up north. We spent a few days on Quadra Island with old Cornell grad-school friends who recently moved there; we didn't get to see them often enough when they lived in Ontario, so it's great that they're relatively close now. Quadra is a beautiful island off the east coast of Vancouver Island. We'd only been there once before, when we were kayaking in the area, so we did a bit of walking and car exploration. On one walk we saw over a hundred bald eagles, mostly juveniles, soaring in slow lazy circles over the bay. We enjoyed helping our friends babysit their three grandchildren one evening. Les also had fun spending time with the family dogs and cats. Chucky, our kayak, is now going to live on Quadra, so we'll have many happy reasons to return.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wAMlirJX9Eo/VQZhJp_dxvI/AAAAAAAAANE/457kmpsK8Eg/s1600/1503-13%2BQuadra%2BIsland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wAMlirJX9Eo/VQZhJp_dxvI/AAAAAAAAANE/457kmpsK8Eg/s1600/1503-13%2BQuadra%2BIsland.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the end of the road on Quadra Island</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E7ChmNH_aac/VQZhj7LbyMI/AAAAAAAAANM/-GpJNZr_3fg/s1600/1503-18%2BQuadra%2BIsland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E7ChmNH_aac/VQZhj7LbyMI/AAAAAAAAANM/-GpJNZr_3fg/s1600/1503-18%2BQuadra%2BIsland.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leo pulling the kayak on its wheels</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bvyrn0hRK2Y/VQZh3af8AyI/AAAAAAAAANU/l5kwzHT0ll4/s1600/1503-23%2BQuadra%2BIsland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bvyrn0hRK2Y/VQZh3af8AyI/AAAAAAAAANU/l5kwzHT0ll4/s1600/1503-23%2BQuadra%2BIsland.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arlyn reading to Forrest, Leo, and Ivy</td></tr>
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We then had a couple of days in Vancouver at CelticFest. The Welsh men's choir concert was excellent, and included an equally good performance by an Irish dance group. We saw lots of short performances and workshops: fiddlers, dance groups, various combos, etc. Les especially enjoyed the workshop on the uilleann pipes, an Irish instrument somewhat similar to bagpipes, and a favorite of Les.<br />
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The St. Patrick's parade was fun. Remembering how three years ago I had found it difficult to see through the street crowd, this time I shlepped a plastic stool from Seattle, and Les enjoyed teasing me about it. During the parade I didn't need it, because we found a retaining wall to stand on. So the stool was sitting on the sidewalk when suddenly a woman rushed up, shouted "I need to borrow your stool!" and bolted off with it. How bizarre, we thought. We watched her race up the block to a horse leading a carriage in the parade.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nxts3T-3sxE/VQZi2FVa1UI/AAAAAAAAANc/EYpdsnIesms/s1600/1503-27%2BSt%2BPatrick's%2BDay%2BParade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nxts3T-3sxE/VQZi2FVa1UI/AAAAAAAAANc/EYpdsnIesms/s1600/1503-27%2BSt%2BPatrick's%2BDay%2BParade.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our stool saves the day!</td></tr>
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She got up on the stool, and—with some difficulty—replaced a decoration which had evidently fallen off from the horse's head. So my stool played an important part in the parade, and Les was quite impressed at my foresight! The only negative in Vancouver was cigarette smoke on the streets; we're both very sensitive to it, and we know that it will be a potential problem in Europe.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KORMc2cTDcA/VQeCRcqraEI/AAAAAAAAANs/BtFN0BylbbY/s1600/1503-28%2BLummi%2BIsland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KORMc2cTDcA/VQeCRcqraEI/AAAAAAAAANs/BtFN0BylbbY/s1600/1503-28%2BLummi%2BIsland.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We found a lovely, deserted beach on Lummi Island</td></tr>
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Yesterday we visited Lummi Island off the Washington coast. It was our first time there, and we were surprised at how different it is from the nearby San Juan Islands. In circumnavigating the 10-mile long island, we saw hardly any people (population is about 900), and definitely no tourist attractions. We then drove to Anacortes to spend the night. Today, our final day of nine, we're going to have lunch with an Esperanto friend as we pass through Whidbey Island. Today is also the 8th anniversary of our daughter Julie's death, so we've been thinking about her a lot the last few days.<br />
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This trip was meant to be a "shakedown" trip for the big one this summer. Doing this blog entry while on the road, for instance, is more challenging than doing it at home on the large computer. We saw some attractive waterfowl on the ferry to Lummi, which might have been rhinoceros auklets or some kind of puffin, but I wasn't able to identify them online; it felt like I really needed my bird guide back at home. After years of printing off one or more New York Times crossword puzzles each day, we're learning to solve them online, but it's not nearly as enjoyable that way.<br />
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We tried out two credit cards and two debit cards in a foreign country—Canada—to see which ones incurred foreign transaction fees. We resolved a banking problem with the help of Skype, so it's nice to know that we can take care of financial matters while we're away. We tried out our new Visa card that has a chip; we had to open a new bank account to get it, as our regular bank doesn't offer a chip yet, and we know we'll want that feature in Europe. We discovered that it's best to have a PIN for the chip credit card, which apparently our bank only issues on request. I'm glad we're learning these things now, and not while we're in Europe.<br />
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Les created a new system for keeping track of cash and credit card expenses on our laptop, so we'll be able to reconcile online bank statements on the road. We confirmed that Pandora doesn't work outside of the U.S. (boo hoo), also that Netflix streaming works but the selections are more limited. When a new user ran into a problem with Les' MorseKOB program, other users around the country jumped in with suggestions; it gives Les confidence that support for the program will not depend solely on him during our long trip.<br />
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So, all in all, we've had a most enjoyable and successful week. Les says, "It's been the best vacation ever!" But, then again, he often says that. :-)Arlynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03450003443811048366noreply@blogger.com