Being There - A Pilgrimage

Back on Canadian Soil - July 9, 2009

2011-08-01T23:05:00.002-06:00

The flight from Frankfurt landed in Calgary – almost home. We had a three hour stopover – but that was a good thing because the security line in Calgary was very long – in fact some people may have missed their connecting flights, there was lots of frustration and a lot of cranky people. Fortunately for us our stress level was low thanks to the long lay-over.

Beth adds: I have to say that I didn't realize how much I missed Canada and everything familiar until we came through Customs and one of the first things I saw was a Tim Horton's. Finally I could get a simple cup of coffee without fumbling through foreign currency and language barriers. I was back in well-known territory.

We went through Customs in Calgary and were relieved to discover they didn’t care about the goat cheese! Yes, in spite of saying I wouldn’t do that again, Sissel and Terje gave us two big packages of gjetost to take home! There were no other problems at customs either, even though we were a little over our limit for the amount of purchases we were allowed to bring in duty free - they simply waved us through (big sigh of relief). Now all that remained was the last little flight home!

Landing in Regina was bitter sweet. On the one hand we were very glad to be home, but this also meant the end of our wonderful trip. When we came down the stairs in the airport we were greeting by two of our children (Anna and Thomas – Joshua was at work). A pleasant surprise was also being welcomed home by our friends Irene and John Edworthy. To see these familiar faces really brought home the reality of being back home. The pilgrimage was over – now to share our adventure with the many curious folks who would be wondering how it all went. But that was for another day – today we simply wanted to take ourselves and all our luggage to our house, then to try and get some sleep and get back on Saskatchewan time.

Once at our house we waited until Joshua got home from work, then we spent some time handing out the souvenirs we brought back for the kids. We shared some stories, answered questions, got caught up on the important happenings around home, then went to bed (after being up for close to 26 hours straight).

Thus ended our 6 week trip – so much packed into so short a time – and memories to last a lifetime. So too does this blog come to an end (ironically 2 years after our trip was finished we finally got around to finishing up the final days of entries!) Both Beth and I will post one more reflection piece each – as we look back over this whole adventure and make some general observations about the trip and how it impacted us. Thanks for sharing this pilgrimage with us through this blog. Now on to whatever the future holds.

Final Day of Travel - Frankfurt Airport - July 9, 2009

2011-08-01T22:26:00.004-06:00

Our last day in Europe started very early as we had to get to the train station to catch the high speed train to Frankfurt (which rolled out of the station at 6:41 AM). The train was ride was fast, and smooth and before we knew it we were arriving at the airport in Frankfurt (the train pulls right into the Airport terminal – that’s effective and convenient public transportation!)

It was a good thing that we arrived at the airport early because the line up to get through security turned out to be very long. While waiting for our boarding call we marvelled at this city within a city – the Frankfurt airport is huge, indicated by the airport security people who rode around on bicycles inside the terminal! What a place to people watch – folks from all around the world, many different skin colours, clothing styles, languages, all waiting to go somewhere.

The last official duty we had in Europe was to complete and mail our forms for the VAT refund (Valued Added Tax - remember the leather purchases we made in Florence?) The deal there was that some of the tax was waived because we were from out of country, the trick is that there was a certain form that had to be submitted within six weeks. Beth mentioned that we wouldn't be leaving Europe before that so thus wouldn't be able to process the form through customs in time. She was assured (by the very skilled salesperson at the leather store) that this would be no problem (and it wasn't except that the extra tax portion wound up being charged to our VISA since we didn't submit the paperwork in time. Beth had quite the process after we got home to get it refunded.) It took a very long time but we did eventually get our refund. Anyway, enough side notes.

We wandered through the Frankfurt airport and found a convenient post box where we could mail the completed form. First Beth needed to go to the customs office and have the official stamp put on it. There was quite a line-up but we had lots of time. Imagine our surprise when as we waited, we heard the initial call for our flight. We were a little panicky until the woman ahead of Beth told her we would be just fine - she was one of the stewardesses for that same flight!

It turns out that our plane was over-sold and so they were checking us into the gate early (we didn’t take the offer to take a later flight and get some credit or something – we simply wanted to get home to our family). Soon enough we were settled in our seats for the long flight home.

The flight itself was memorable for only three things – it was very long, the movie system kept crashing, but the food was good (better than what I would expect on an airplane).

A Tale of Two Hotels - July 8, 2009

2011-08-01T12:11:00.003-06:00

We woke up to our last day in the Scandinavian countries refreshed and ready to go (in spite of the very small hotel room – and small beds to match!) Little did we realize that the contrast with our accommodations later that day would be a study in contrasts. After breakfast we lugged our bulging suitcases (now I know where the term luggage comes from) to the train station. Thankfully we had wheels on the largest suitcases and thus we made our way down the sidewalks of Copenhagen looking very much like tourists.

After waiting for a little bit we were able to board the train that would take us to Hannover, Germany. By this time we were experts at getting all our luggage and ourselves onto the train and settled into place. The train trip had nothing of note – or perhaps we were simply worn out and didn’t pay attention to things that would have caught our fancy earlier in the trip. Actually there was one cool thing about the trip - at one point the train boarded a ferry to cross a body of water. We had to leave the train while the ferry sailed, and doing so we were able to see the train tracks built into the floor of the ferry. Thinking back on this now I realize that within a 24 hour span we travelled by rail, sea and air!

Once in Hannover we walked the couple of blocks from the train station to the hotel where we discovered that we had been upgraded because the room we had booked was not available. This was one of the hotel rooms booked using our Airmiles. So up we went to the top floor of the hotel and walked into the most luxurious and spacious suite we had been in the whole trip (see the picture above). The irony was we weren’t able to enjoy it very long because we had such an early start the next morning.

The best thing about this room was all the space! We were able to unpack everything, and then re-pack it as efficiently as possible for the trip home. So rather than being able to enjoy the spacious room and huge bed with a lazy day and sleeping in the next morning (in the lovely huge bed) we simply grabbed some food from a grocery store in the train station and proceeded to eat, and repack. When that was done we fell into bed exhausted… it was time to head home!

Marilyn Mazur Concert - July 7, 2009

2011-08-01T12:02:00.004-06:00

Back in Copenhagen after running around Malmo for the day. The Copenhagen Jazz Festival was taking place at the time so I thought I would see if there were any concerts I would be interested in. One name jumped out at me – the American/Danish percussionist Marilyn Mazur. I recognized her name from a number of recordings I have, most notably Jan Garbarek’s recent ECM albums. Playing with her that night were a couple of musicians I recognized from ECM recordings - John Taylor (an English pianist who I first heard as part of the group Azimuth) and Anders Jormin (a Swedish bass player who I knew from his playing with the Bobo Stenson Trio). The group was rounded out with Josefine Cronholm, a Swedish vocalist I didn’t recognize. The concert was in The Queen's Hall of the Royal Library (Det Kongelige Bibliotek)and with a little checking we discovered it was within walking distance of our hotel. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up, so we decided to take it in.

We had a little time for shopping before the concert so we wandered around the city streets near our hotel. It was a lovely evening and many people were out and about. I was specifically looking for a Danish vimpel, but also any other Danish souvenirs to bring home. We grabbed some food from a street vendor - the Scandinavian equivalent of a hot dog – a thin long sausage in a baguette. When you ordered one of these the vendor asked what condiments you wanted, these then were squirted into the hollowed out baguette and finally the sausage was stuffed in - well not all the sausage, a good 4 or 5 inches stuck out the top! A little unusual looking but they tasted good.

Being a beautiful summer day there were also buskers about including a couple of guys in full North American Indian outfits, complete with huge feather headdresses. They looked like they could be of aboriginal descent, they certainly advertised themselves that way – but rather than the drum circle music we are familiar with from the plains tribes, these fellows were playing their version of Native American music: Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” played on pan pipes! Beth and I laughed at this ‘authentic music’ of the North American first nations peoples – but the Danes were eating it up!

The Queen's Hall in the Royal Library sounds like it should be an old ornate space, but it turned out to be a very cool looking new facility (it is also known as 'The Black Diamond'), and the theatre inside was modern and comfortable. When we took our seats the first thing I noticed on the stage was what looked like a cage made out of all kinds of percussion instruments; cymbals and chimes, bells and drums. This was going to be interesting!

Shortly after settling into our seats the lights dimmed, and Marilyn Mazur’s Celestial Circle (as the group was called) took the stage. For the next 90 minutes we were treated to a display of focussed energy and percussive precision that was truly captivating - this from a woman in her 60’s! It was not all banging and crashing either, much of her playing was subtle yet intense – supporting the musical expression of her band mates. I found myself thinking “This is like listening to an ECM recording – but live!” I was really pleased at this happy musical discovery, and Beth was very patient.

After the concert (and buying a couple of CDs of course!) we walked back to our hotel with thunderstorms threatening in the distance, but we never got wet. A pleasant end to day that, in spite of being pretty spontaneous, was filled with wonderful sights and sounds.

Day in Malmo - July 7, 2009

2011-08-01T11:59:00.005-06:00

Tuesday was another great day, weather-wise and we decided to take advantage of it. Dennis wasn’t feeling too inspired about exploring Copenhagen, he had seen what he wanted to in 1980 and apparently the little mermaid is overrated anyway, so we hopped the train and headed back to Sweden. Even though we had gone to some very specific places and had accomplished what I had hoped we would, I was feeling disappointed that we hadn’t had more time to just soak up the ambience. Turns out that I’ve become very pro-Swedish since we came back (or so I’ve been told).

Malmo is only about ½ hour from Copenhagen by train so that’s how we spent our afternoon. One of the first things we saw was a four piece marching band artwork made out of steel - quite funny! Then we talked to a very informative man in a souvenir shop who drew all over a city map and told us about some sights we really should see. So we went through yet another Saint Peter’s church. Some interesting points about this one - the pulpit was resting on the shoulders of a statue of Peter (see the picture above) Was this a reference to Peter being the rock upon which the church would be built? Also there was a medieval side chapel with some subtle ceiling paintings.

We also saw a building with the craziest architecture ever - the floors were slightly offset so it looked twisted and almost leaning. There’s a river running through the center of the downtown core, quite the focal point. There were these water features flowing into the river and on the steps beside we saw statues of cats - they almost looked life-like, at first glance you didn’t realize they were statues.

We discovered a great cake shop and tried a few amazing cupcakes (along with a pretty decent cup of coffee). We needed another piece of carry-on luggage so the helpful man told us about a shop that had used to be next to him when he was located in the train station. We covered a lot of ground looking for it (even though we were talking about a ten block radius probably, just did it several times) but never found it. We even went to the tourist office in the train station to try to get an address but had no luck. Good thing we didn’t try to find the restaurant he highly recommended (which was apparently a little tricky to find). However, it was good of him to be so helpful and we did end up getting another bag, just not from his friend.

Finishing the Blog

2011-08-01T11:15:00.002-06:00

Well it has been two years since we travelled in Europe, and finally we are getting around to finishing the Blog. Once we got back to Canada we got caught up in our busy schedules again, and good intentions of finishing off the final entries never happened. To tell you the truth I think we were simply worn out. Besides that we were focusing on our upcoming 25th Wedding Anniversary celebration held only a couple weeks after our return. A few of our readers kept asking when we were going to finish the Blog, thanks to their gentle reminders Beth and I decided that this summer we were going to do just that. We took Beth's laptop up to the Hedlin family cabin at Christopher Lake and while relaxing at the lake we took some time to review the notes about the final few days of our trip, looked at pictures to refresh our memories, and then sat down to write the final entries. Now this long weekend we finally will post these long-awaited entries, and the Blog will be mostly complete. We also hope to each write a personal reflection on the whole trip that will complete the Blog, but for now here are the entries to finish the trip. Thanks for your patience.
Dennis

IKEA adventure

2009-08-15T13:14:00.003-06:00

We left Gotheburg bright and early on the Monday (well, okay it was 9:30) ready for our visit to IKEA. Little did we know that just getting there was going to be as much of an experience as being there. We had decided to save some money on the train tickets so we didn’t get reserved seating. This was how we had travelled around Scandinavia and so far it had worked well, but not so well today. The train was crowded and we ended up moving seats about three times (no easy feat when you consider the amount of luggage we were hauling).

If that wasn’t challenging enough, our train was running late and I started to get concerned about making the connection in Halmstad. I even asked the conductor, as we were getting closer to the station, if we would be alright - would the train wait? He assured me that we would be fine and maybe we would have, if we had known where we were going when we arrived at the station. We had to catch our connecting train two platforms over which meant going up some stairs, through the pedway, back down the stairs (did I mention we were really loaded down with luggage?) and down the platform to where the train was waiting. It was a relief to see our train still there until we noticed the conductor getting back on board, then the train started to move. We ran down the platform, waving our arms frantically, only to see it pick up speed and move right past us. This was the one time I saw Dennis really angry, I was glad I wasn’t the person at the ticket office. It wasn’t so bad though. They extended our tickets so we could catch the next train which would be in an hour. This just gave us a little more downtime than expected.

In due time, we arrived at Älmhult. We discovered that, unlike most train stations, there were no lockers for storing luggage at this station. However, the people at the ticket office graciously allowed us to leave it there so it wasn’t an issue after all.

After a short walk we arrived at the IKEA complex. I have to admit I was a little disappointed with the flagship store - except for a sign in the entryway, it looked like every other IKEA I‘ve ever been in. However, I did pick up a Dala horse baking pan and I’m not sure you’d find that anywhere else.

When I called it a complex earlier I wasn’t kidding. To get to the store itself we walked by a couple of big warehouses and across the parking lot we saw the IKEA hotel and restaurant. I wondered if it was furnished entirely with IKEA product. In lower level of the hotel was an IKEA museum. After we finished shopping, we decided to have a look through it and see what would be there. We arrived just before 3:00 (which was the closing time) but the staff there encouraged us to go through anyway and to take as much time as we wanted. It was basically a history of IKEA (as expected) and had rooms set up with furniture from the different decades - similar to how the stores have their demonstration rooms. We also received a book talking about the life of Ingvar Kampar and the evolution of IKEA. The book was actually written as an internal training tool for new employees so gave a fascinating glimpse into the whole philosophy. Just as an aside - that’s how he came up with the name IKEA - Ingvar Kampar Elmtaryd (family farm) Agunnaryd (home parish)

After leaving IKEA, we spent a little time looking around the town square (bought a Dala horse for myself and a few more things for the kids) then got back on the train and headed for Copenhagen.

In Copenhagen we had booked a CabInn hotel about 5 blocks from the train station so once we got our bearings (or rather once Dennis got his bearings since I’m directionally-challenged) we set off to find it. Once there, we discovered that this room was probably the smallest and least luxurious of any we had stayed in yet - really brought definition to the term ship-shape. I’m pretty sure it was even more compact than our ship cabin, even had bunk beds. Oh well, we had decided while planning the trip that hotel rooms were only a place to lay our heads at the end of the day so this fit that purpose.

After a nice supper at an Italian restaurant (Vesusius in Copenhagen, go figure!) we wandered around the area for a little. We saw a few shops that we pegged for visiting the next day (to hopefully fulfill the quest for a Danish vimple). We also saw a pair of buskers dressed as Native Americans (the full headdress and everything) but their music was nothing like I was expecting - mostly pan flutes, the Sound of Silence, that type of thing. Oh well, they certainly drew a crowd and I guess that was the point.

It had been a long day so we went back to our little hotel room (Dennis opted to sleep on the pull-out bed rather than the top bunk) and prepared to rest up for whatever adventure the next day might hold.

Those Goofy Ears and Riding a Wooden Rollercoaster

2009-08-11T22:34:00.002-06:00

Both on the way out to Hestra, and on the way back, I noticed an amusement park with a large wooden rollercoaster. Beth and I had figured there must be an amusement park nearby because we kept seeing young kids (and not so young) wearing these goofy looking pink rabbit ears. I got a yearning to try a wooden rollercoaster, something I’ve never been able to do to date. Once we got back to Göteburg we went to a tourist brochure display and picked up some information on Liseberg Park. Now the presence of so many young families made sense, it was a weekend get-away for people; take the kids to Liseberg Park (something like taking the family to Disneyland - though not quite as big, and with lots of games of chance… the favourite prizes being oversized chocolate bars, including the largest Toblerone I’ve ever seen).

A little checking on the internet and we determined the park was open until 10 PM, which would give us time to go to the park and for me to ride the rollercoaster. It was at this point that I discovered the wooden rollercoaster is called Balder, and has been voted the world’s best wooden rollercoaster several years running. In rollercoaster fan circles the wooden rollercoasters are known as Woodies, and some people have made it their life’s passion to ride every wooden rollercoaster in the world. So after brief deliberation we decided to squeeze this little adventure in.

The gal at the reception desk must have thought we looked like walkers (which we are) because that was how she gave us directions when we asked. About 20 or 25 minutes later we were at the gate (it was now 9 PM), the admission person said “You know the park closes in one hour” which we assured him was enough time (though we didn’t get a break on the price of admission). Once inside we made our way quickly across the park (Balder being on the opposite side of course), looking for a token seller (the first booths were all empty, but eventually we found one and I bought my three tokens needed to ride the rollercoaster).

Beth was not going to join me in this adventure, instead she became the keeper of my stuff as I wasn’t about to have my money pouch, Rider hat, or camera go flying off into space on one of those sharp turns. At that hour the line up wasn’t too bad and within 15 minutes I was strapping myself into one of the rollercoaster cars. Then the cars began climbing a long, long hill of wood and steel to the top of Balder, then whoosh we dropped at a 70 degree angle and the ride was in full speed.

I don’t know why, but I start laughing and yelling “woooooh” on rollercoasters, this happens spontaneously, and for the next 2 minutes and 15 seconds that’s exactly what happened. I can’t compare it with any other wooden rollercoasters since this is the only one I've ridden, but it certainly was a great ride (the ride seemed less jarring than most of the metal rollercoasters I’ve ridden). We have a picture to prove it, one of those ones taken by the amusement park which you can purchase for an arm and a leg after the ride.

After I had my ride on Balder we walked around the park looking at rides that you would catch neither of us on (ones with spinning involved simply make me sick - in fact the only amusement rides I really enjoy are rollercoasters, and now I can say that I have ridden one of the best in the world). We decided to grab a bite to eat in the park, and expected typical fair food, but I had a sausage in a baguette and Beth had little meatballs with mashed potatoes and lingonberry sauce - and both dishes were really tasty! So we sat in the growing twilight listening to the screams and laughter from people on the rides and enjoyed our simple meal. Then I took a picture of Beth by a giant Dala horse, something we’ve been looking for since getting to Sweden (a little one to take home, not a large one). Even though the park closed at 10 PM, most of the food places stayed open later, and people were not pushed out of the park, so we actually had a little more time to enjoy our food after which we strolled leisurely out of Liseberg and back to our hotel.

This was one of those pleasant, unplanned surprises of our trip. I had no idea the world’s best wooden rollercoaster was in Göteburg, but it was a bonus for me that it was, and that we had enough time to allow me to ride it. So we’ve been to Liseberg park, and I have ridden Balder (and have a picture to prove it), but in case anyone reading this blog was wondering, no we didn’t buy any pink rabbit ears.

Hestra

2009-08-11T21:05:00.003-06:00

We arrived at Hestra in the rain, good thing the bike rental idea had fallen through. When we got out of the taxi we saw some people down by the cow barn so started heading in that direction.

We introduced ourselves to Bjorn, the current owner of Hestra. Bjorn’s parents, Helge and Sonja Stensson, had purchased the farm from my great-uncle, Johan Huvudsson back in the 1950’s. (I think I mentioned in an earlier post that only one of my grandfather’s brothers and a sister had remained on the farm with their parents and neither of them had married.)

It was interesting to look around at the outbuildings. With the exception of the new barn, the farm looked much like the pictures I’d seen of it.

Bjorn had limited English, mostly he was just self-conscious about it, and my Swedish was limited to what I could look up in the pocket Swedish-English dictionary I had purchased in Gothenburg - so needless to say, our conversation was limited. He had tried to arrange for some relatives to act as a buffer but no one was available so we just had to muddle through it ourselves. He actually could speak better than he thought so we didn’t have to resort to too much pantomime.

The rain had let up enough for us to tour some of the farmyard but when it started to come down again, Sonja came to the door of the farmhouse and called to Bjorn to bring us in.

We had planned to have the taxi wait because I didn’t want to impose on Sonja and Bjorn’s generosity and take up too much of their time. It was a pleasant surprise to discover that they had planned to have coffee with us and that Bjorn was willing to transport us back to Fristad afterwards.

Sonja is a delightful lady. She’s in her 90’s but, similar to my mom’s cousin Karin, is so full of life. One of the first things she did when we sat down to the table for coffee was to bring out a guest book for me to look through and identify my relatives. This book was amazing - it dated back to the 1960’s. I found many entries written by my relatives, including a few different ones by my parents (Dad once and Mom twice). It was fun to see how often the Hedlin name cropped up, and interesting to see some unfamiliar relatives, obviously some of the U.S. branch of the family had also made this pilgrimage.

After we had perused the guest book and added our own entry, Sonja was off on the search through various photo albums and once again I was called upon to identify pictures of my relatives. It was great to see the old photos, always taken with Sonja and her husband. Before we left we had our picture taken with Sonja, and I intend to send a print to her to be added to her photo album. It was also interesting to me to see pictures of my great-uncle Johan’s funeral and a picture of my great-aunt Ida, taken on her 85th birthday. Community events were apparently very meaningful to Sonja.

Sonja didn’t speak any English so a few times we did have to resort to a form of sign language to communicate. I had to laugh to myself when she showed us that she could count to ten in English, which was certainly more than I could manage in Swedish. However, I did attempt to write a thank you note in Swedish, with the help of my little dictionary. (I included an English translation just in case I wasn’t actually saying what I thought I was.)

A few times during the process of getting to Hestra, I had been tempted to just cancel the whole expedition. It seemed like there were so many roadblocks, that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. After visiting with Sonja and Bjorn, I was so thankful that Dennis had been willing to persevere. We had such a nice visit and it was very meaningful for me to see where my grandfather grew up. Sonja welcomed us so graciously, it really was a joy to be in her house.

How We Got to Hestra

2009-08-10T16:39:00.003-06:00

There were only two times on our trip that we thought we might need to rent a car to get to the places we wanted to visit. The first was in Denmark where were wanted to visit the Mårup Kirke and Rubjerg Knude Lighthouse - which we managed to get to by public transportation and walking (as covered in an earlier post). The second occasion was in Sweden when we wanted to get to Hestra, the farm where Beth’s grandfather grew up.

One problem we didn’t count on was trying to rent a car on Sunday. Doing internet research we discovered that the only place we could rent a car from in Gothenburg on a Sunday was the airport (which was a fair distance from the train station and our hotel). The other problem was that renting a car for one day simply wasn’t economical - most car rentals only became reasonable with a rental of a week or longer. So the next option was public transportation, combined with cycling. We found out that often Tourist Bureaus had bicycles to rent, and we knew that it was possible to take bikes on the train (at least in some places) so we started checking into that option. The reason we were looking into bicycles was because the closest we could get to Hestra by public transportation was the small town of Fristad which was still about 10 kilometres from the farm.

So here is how our travel adventure unfolded: We started off by taking a bus from Gothenburg (or Göteborg as the Swedes spell it). The bus depot was in the same building as the train station, so that was handy. We first looked at taking a train from Gothenburg to Borås but the trains didn’t run as frequent on the weekends, so the bus became our best choice based on our schedule. Once we got to Borås we walked to the Tourist Bureau to check on renting some bikes. In talking with the Tourist Bureau people we discovered that we would have needed to get the bikes back by the time the office closed, which was 3 PM, and there was no way we could make that happen. So time for Plan B.

Back to the Borås Train Station (which looked pretty cool - see the picture), and went inside to buy some train tickets to Fristad. The next problem we encountered was that there was no one in the ticket office (because it was Sunday). There was an automated ticket machine, but it didn’t like any of our credit cards. As a last resort we figured we should be able to buy a ticket directly from the conductor on the train. When the appropriate train pulled into the station we got on board. The trip to Fristad was not that long, less than half an hour, and in that time no conductor ever came through our coach… so when we arrived a Fristad not knowing what else to do we simply got off. It turned out to be a free ride! (I felt justified in this because the stupid ticket machines didn’t accept any of our cards - we tried to pay, honest!).

Now the question was how to get to Hestra from Fristad. The good news was that there was a local bus service that stopped right by the farm (the bus stop is actually called ‘Hestra’) but the bad news was that the bus wasn’t running that day since it was a Sunday. This was where we had been planning on using the bicycles, but that plan fell through, so then we contemplated walking, but it seemed to be a bit far for that, so finally we decided to call a taxi. There was no pay phone at the train station, so we went wandering in search of a pay phone, eventually ending up at a gas station where we asked the attendant where the closest pay phone was. When he found out we were trying to call a taxi he offered to do that for us, and within ten minutes the cab was there.

We showed the cab driver a map of where we wanted to go and he said he could do that for us, and I asked for an approximate price which he quoted and which seemed reasonable. So we loaded in the car and drove to the farm. When we arrived there we asked the driver if it would be better if he waited for 10 minutes, or came back to get us later. He said he would wait and even turned off his meter while doing so!

When we found out that we were invited to stay for coffee, and that Bjorn (the current owner of the farm) would drive us back to Fristad, we sent the taxi driver on his way with a big thank you and a (hopefully) decent tip. Beth will write about our time at Hestra, but I will conclude this post by explaining how we got back to Gothenburg. Bjorn did drive us to Fristad, and by that time it was raining pretty good (including some thunder and lightning) so Beth and I were glad the bicycle option didn’t pan out - we would have gotten soaked!

From Fristad we ended up taking a bus back to Borås simply because the bus was available before the train. As this was a local bus we were dropped off somewhere other than the train station (where the regional buses were based). It took a little wandering and asking to make our way to the train station, but eventually we found it, and having just missed the hourly run to Gothenburg, waited for close to an hour in an outside bus shelter (much like you would see at a city bus stop) until the next bus arrived. At least by that point it was no longer raining.

The trip to Gothenburg was uneventful and eventually we were back in our hotel room glad to have survived our transportation adventure. I did a little mental calculating and the way I figured it, even with the taxi ride, we probably spent as little as a third or a quarter of what we would have spent renting a car for a day… so in that way our adventure was definitely worth it.

First Hotel G

2009-08-10T13:24:00.002-06:00

Our train arrived in Sweden around 9:00 pm. Typically our next step at this point would be to schlep all our luggage off the train, through the station and out the front door to see if we could find a taxi (by this point we’d pretty much given up on the idea of walking to our hotel, unless it was within a few short blocks). Today we could skip the taxi ritual because our hotel (called First Hotel G) was built right into the train station! We did have to go out of the train station because the entrance to the hotel was on the exterior but at the end of a long travelling day it was a treat to just have to walk a few more steps. It was a surprisingly quiet hotel, from our room we heard very little of the train/bus announcements (did I mention that the train and bus system run out of the same complex?). It probably helped that the station basically shut down by 10:30 pm and didn’t start up again until around 8:00 am.

Speaking of things shutting down - we thought we’d try to be proactive and do some of our research into travel to Boras. However, that was when we discovered that the all the ticket offices were closed, as were the currency converter offices and virtually all the shops.

However, we weren’t totally out of luck. We hadn’t really eaten supper, just some snacks on the train, so were both feeling like we needed some food. We didn’t feel like venturing out of the train station so Dennis settle on a sub from Mr. Sub (just like being at home) and I got a couple of tubs of yogurt and some bananas from 7-Eleven - I never imagined I’d be buying fruit from 7-Eleven. Dennis had an interesting experience with the server at Mr. Sub so this is probably a good time for an editorial comment.

<Here's my story from Mr. Sub: I decided on a Louisiana Chicken Sub, and went through the normal process of adding extras like mushrooms, onions and such. Then the girl behind the counter asked if I wanted any sauce on that. I asked "What kind of sauce do you have?" She replied by listing off 5 different kinds of sauce, after which I picked the one I thought sounded good - it was a Honey Mustard sauce if I remember correctly. Her reaction was pretty funny, she shook her head and said "You don't want that! You want the Southwestern Sauce" and proceeded to put on the 'right' sauce. I wondered why she had asked about sauces in the first place if there was only one 'right' sauce for this particular type of sub sandwich. Beth and I had a good chuckle over that, and to be fair the sub really did taste good! DH>

So at the end of a long day with another full day looming in front of us, it was nice to go back to our nicely appointed room and settle in for a good sleep. Another bonus was that we had booked two nights in this hotel so would have a brief reprieve from packing up and moving suitcases.

On the Road (Rails) Again

2009-08-10T13:07:00.003-06:00

Saturday July 4 was another travelling day and a long one at that. This was our trip from Kolbu to Gotheburg via Oslo. In total I think we spent about 6 or so hours on the train - we’re sure getting good at organizing all our luggage and ourselves, especially when each country seems to have a different system of doing this.

Geir had plans for his day so Gae came to spend some time with Grandpa and Grandma. She is certainly Bestemor’s girl (I love the Norwegian names for Grandpa and Grandma, wish I’d known them about 20 years ago).

As a special treat before we headed for the train, Magne had made waffles - I finally got to try the famous ‘vaffle and kaffe‘ combo that I‘ve heard so much about. The Nosterud clan laughed about we Canadians eating waffles drowned in maple syrup and I could understand why. We ate these with some sour cream and strawberry jam - a delightful change. It was not nearly so sweet as what we’re used to - I wonder if the kids will go for this?

Before we left Kari was looking through her address book and came across a letter that had been written to her oldest son, Tore, from my cousin (who shall remain unnamed). This letter dates back to 1976 or so, shortly after my parents and Grandpa had been over visiting. She had asked him many questions about himself and life in Norway but Kari said she didn’t think he had ever responded. I’ll have to ask her if she remembers sending the letter.

Linked by a Pilgrimage

2009-07-20T14:23:00.003-06:00

One of the sites we looked at in the Kolbu area On July 3rd was the local church. When we were walking into the church yard I noticed a familiar looking sign post - it was a pilgrimage marker, just like the one we saw at the Bønsnes Kirke in Hole! A quick look at a descriptive sign confirmed that this church was another stop on the Ancient Pilgrimage Route to Trondheim. This was another of those amazing coincidence moments from our trip - to discover that both our families were connected by this ancient pilgrimage route.

Pilgrims would have stopped at the churchyard where my grandfather played as a child, and then further north a few stops later on the pilgrimage route they would have stopped at the church that Beth’s great-grandparents could see a short distance across the valley from their home. This whole trip of ours we have been considering a pilgrimage (as evidenced by the title of our blog), and then to discover that our families had a connection of sorts through an ancient pilgrimage path - that was another thread in this interesting tapestry our life together.

The Kolbu Kirke is interesting because it is built in the shape of an equal armed cross (like the Red Cross symbol). Many churches are built in the shape of a cross, but with the traditional cross shape, with shorter horizontal arms than vertical. For the Kolbu Kirke the centre of the building is where the aisles meet, and in the centre of that space is the baptismal font. This arrangement I thought appropriate considering the Lutheran understanding of the centrality of baptism in a Christian’s life. Our understanding is that baptism marks the beginning of a journey of faith, a pilgrimage through life, and in Kolbu we were given another reminder of this interconnectivity of faith and life.

Visit to Torgunrud

2009-07-19T17:35:00.004-06:00

We seemed to go from relative to relative. About the time Asbjorn was leaving, another cousin, Klara, and her husband came. Klara had grown up at the Torgunrud farm and was prepared to take us there to see it. The first thing I that struck me about the farm was the spectacular view (see the picture). Torgunrud is built on a bit of a hill so you look out across the valley and see all these farms, each with their own forest. (We were told that in Norway each farm included a forest, for firewood among other things.) We also saw the spot where my great-grandparents, Otilia and Anders, lived. The house isn’t there anymore but if we had looked through the overgrown area, we could probably have found the remains of the foundation. They left the area shortly after marrying, seeking a better life in the States. Again, as Dennis has mentioned in his entries, it must have been a very difficult transition from lush farmland to the harsh conditions they encountered but we, their descendants, are certainly better off because of it. We were able to see the main house and the outbuildings. We also saw some Norwegian elkhounds. It’s hard to believe that such a small dog could hold a moose at bay, that would be quite a sight to see.

Then it was back to Kari’s for supper. We were joined by Roar’s daughter, Mette along with her husband Bjorn and son Eskil. Poor Eskil, at ten years old this was not a fun crowd to hang out with - Gae was far too young to be interesting and the rest of us were just too old - thank goodness for computer games.

Mette’s older son is the one who races cars. I asked her how she felt about that, if it worried her. She said of course it did but when she was there watching him race she would get so excited she forgot about worrying. She also showed me a short video on her cellphone of him racing - clearly a proud Mama.

Kari pulled out her books with family tree records, it was interesting to piece together how everyone was connected. She has some very detailed records also, listing Confirmation dates and everything. I think if I had more time genealogy is something I would really like to pursue, it probably fits well with my love of puzzles.

Torgunrud Time

2009-07-19T17:34:00.003-06:00

We must have been tired because once again we slept in (seems to be a recurring theme, time to think of going home). When we got up we had a nice breakfast with Kari, Magne and Roar; then it was time for Roar to leave - he was committed to providing some musical entertainment at the Senior’s Home where his mother now lives.
We lingered over coffee a little longer, then also headed over to the Senior’s Home. It was fun to hear Roar play the piano and sing along to (I believe) some old Norwegian folk tunes. Then he sang a song in English in our honour. I also very much enjoyed meeting Kari and Roar’s mother, Karin. She is over 90 years old but has so much spirit, there’s an unquenchable twinkle in her eye. I hope I have even half that much enthusiasm for life as I reach her age. When my parents and grandfather were in Norway in 1976, they stayed with her at her house. She had a very unique relationship with my Mom - they managed to communicate without words (probably because Mom is good with talking with her hands). I could see why she holds a special place in Mom’s heart.

Karin also has many artistic abilities. At breakfast that morning we had used a set of dishes that she had hand-painted. The plates were decorated with poppies which had included an amazing amount of detail. The incredible thing to me is that she didn’t take up painting until she was over 70. Then she started weaving when she was close to 80. We ended up bringing home a table runner that she had woven. I will certainly treasure it and it will bring back memories of our time here.

Friday proved to be Torgunrud family day. After entertaining at the Senior’s Home, Roar packed up his bus to head to Sweden to watch his grandson race cars. Cindre is 16 and this is something they like to do together.

We were not without company though. A cousin, Asbjorn, showed up in time for lunch. He is retired now but as a side-line is involved with some development in his hometown of Lena. He brought along some plans for a proposal he and other investors are working on for commercial development in the centre of town. He also had a book that he and another cousin had put together showing some of the town history, specifically pertaining to an old building that had been converted into office space.

The evening before at the restaurant, Dennis had expressed an interest in trying a “Toten” burger (Toten being the region where Kolbu is located). He had eaten a chicken dish instead so, low and behold, Toten burgers showed up on the lunch menu and they were very tasty. For dessert Kari had made something called “World’s Greatest Cake” and I had to agree with the name - it was a confection made of cake, meringue, custard cream and served with strawberries - most yummy.

While we were enjoying the coolness of the shade, Magne brought a pair of binoculars out of the house and indicated that we should look in the field across the road. I saw three cranes - a pair of adults with a young one. I’ve never seen a young crane before so this was a real thrill for me. One more unforgettable event to store up. I still wish I could have seen a moose (or Elg) while we were in Norway, but we were out of luck. Maybe next time.

On the Move Again

2009-07-19T17:32:00.003-06:00

Now it was time for us to reconnect with my side of the family. I had made arrangements with a relative (also named Kari and married to a man named Magne, how confusing is that!) that we should spend some time with her at their farm near Kolbu, north of Oslo. Kari’s grandmother is a cousin of my grandfather (her mother is a first cousin of my mother, I’m not sure what that makes us.) We had met her when she was in Canada a few years ago and she had come to our house with my parents.

After wandering in the Oslo train station for a short time we met up with Kari and Magne (Kari had said she would be holding a Norwegian flag but Dennis recognized her even without it). We got back on the train and rode for about an hour until we reached a small town near their farm. We had a short scenic tour, stopping briefly at their son Geir’s house - mostly I believe for Kari to see their granddaughter, who she hadn’t seen for a few days. Gae Isabella is a sweet almost two year old, she has spina bifida so isn’t walking independently yet but she is so easygoing and lovable. I could see why Grandma needed to see her again.

Kari had promised us a relaxed time with them and she was true to her word. When we got to the farm we took a little time to settle into our room (again, in the lower portion of the house so most comfortable temperature-wise) then Kari’s brother Roar came. He had been in Canada with Kari and Geir so it was time to get re-acquainted. He was driving this huge touring bus converted into an RV. It was most interesting to see him manoeuvre it, especially when it came to backing it down the driveway between the two trees which flank the space (see the picture).

Shortly after that, Geir came driving in his little red sportscar and we all went to a neat restaurant on the Mjøsa Lake. It was on a boat that was built specifically as a restaurant, even though it’s half on the water and half on the land. The location is a bit of a resort area so we were able to watch people zipping in and out of the marina and kids diving into the water as we ate. Then it was back to Kari and Magne’s for a coffee time and then to bed, it had been another long day.

Final Update from Europe

2009-07-08T15:00:00.002-06:00

As you can see I added many postings today, I took advantage of our long day on the train to catch up in my postings. We're now at the point in our trip where Beth will take over the writing (since it is about visiting her relatives and family farm site). However as I write this post we are about to go to sleep in our luxurious room in Hannover (the nicest room on our whole trip... and we're not quite sure how we ended up with it).

Tomorrow we board the train bright and early (6:41) to head to the airport in Frankfurt where our plane will leave for Canada around 2:14 PM (Germany time). We may do some more writing tomorrow, but of first priority is getting all our customs stuff straight. We may get an opportunity to post something before we board the airplane, but that's unknown. We will finish our blog when we get back to Canada (if nothing else), if nothing else for our own sake as we seek to set our memories down for future reference. To all of you who have been following our blog we hope you enjoyed reading about our adventure. There will be further postings after we get back, especially as we reflect on our experiences, so keep checking back to this site in the weeks to come. Now to get to bed, the morning will come mighty early.

The Tord Gustavsen Ensemble

2009-07-08T14:33:00.002-06:00

As promised, Kine from the Jazz Festival Office had reserved two seats for us at the Kino (something not usually done, thank you Kine!) right in the center a few rows up - perfect seats! And we arrived just in time, settling into our seats just a few minutes before the concert began. It didn’t take long to know that this was going to be a very different concert than the one we had just left. The Tord Gustavsen Ensemble concert was quiet, sublime and introspective - with Norwegian poetry spoken between (or sometimes as part of) the songs.

Sometimes the playing was very energetic, but it never had the sense of being showy, or flashy (unlike the previous band). The music unfolded in a very organic fashion, and the ensemble playing was great - the musicians showing a high level of sensitivity to each other, never stepping on each others toes musically, always supporting and enhancing each other‘s playing.
Part way through the concert I realized why I like Tord Gustavsen’s music so much, - it’s because his music always has a spiritual quality to it… there is something deeper going on in his music than simply notes being played well. In this concert there was one moment I felt close to tears, but I have no idea why (other than the music was touching my spirit), I didn’t understand the Norwegian poetry, and didn’t know the names of the songs either - it was simply the direct impact of the music being produced so organically and intimately right in front of my eyes (and ears). Simply put, this concert was a spiritual experience between the band and the audience (Tord compared it to a congregation being in tune with a worship service) and for me it was highly inspirational.

The ensemble included Tord, playing piano and Rhodes (sometimes at the same time), Jarle Vespestad on drums (whose playing I knew from Tord’s trio recordings), Tore Brunborg on saxophones, Mats Eilertsen on bass, and Kristin Asbjørnsen on vocals (I have one recording with her singing on it, and she has an usual voice - a bit Janis Joplin, a bit Kate Bush, and a bit Bessie Smith) - Beth commented that hearing her sing live her unique voice was not a distraction, but seemed to blend into the music well. The Norwegian poet was a women whose name I didn't catch, and while we didn’t understand the words, the way they were spoken wove a spell over the audience, including us.

After the concert we waited around for a little bit, then saw the band go out a side door to get some fresh air - so after a little deliberation we went out the same exit where I was then able to personally thank the musicians for a great show. The highlight of this post-concert time was being able to talk with Tord Gustavsen in person for a few minutes. He, like the rest of the band, was very gracious. As we chatted Tord came across as a very humble and authentic person, gentle and quiet - but with much depth, much like his music.

Beth and I walked back to the hostel enjoying the cooler air and the beautiful surroundings of Kongsberg. Back in our room we opened the window wide to help cool off the room. While the room was cooling down we spent a couple of hours researching train and hotel information (taking advantage of the free wireless in the hostel). By the time we went to sleep the room had cooled off enough to allow us to get to sleep without too much trouble.

Blood Sweat Drum ’n’ Bass

2009-07-08T14:29:00.002-06:00

After a little rest we walked back into the town center to the fair area to grab a bite to eat at one of the booths. I had some kind of curry rice wrap, Beth had a kebob. Then it was off to the Tubaloon. We didn’t arrive too early but there were plenty of decent seats left so we set ourselves close to the sound board where we could see well and I suspected we would get the best sound mix.

The Blood Sweat Drum ‘n’ Bass Danish Big Band came on shortly after 8 PM. The concert started with guest artist Palle Mikkelborg (he is a older Danish trumpet player who is pretty famous in Europe) playing his flugelhorn through an echo and reverb unit, some very atmospheric stuff. Very subtly the band came in with some lush background chords, and then the tune slowly grew in sound, complexity and energy - it was a great beginning to the concert.

The write-up in the program suggested that this band could get wild, and sometimes they were indeed wild and raucous, but at other times they were subdued and melodic - always they were surprising. I really enjoyed the times that Palle Mikkelborg interacted in am improvised way with others in the band like a trumpet player, or the female vocalists, or even rhythm section. I also enjoyed watching the conductor who directed with much energy and unique hand gestures (my favourites being when he wiggled his fingers or when he stabbed his arm in the air). Before we knew it the band was leaving the stage after an hour. I had to check with someone to know that this was the intermission not the end.

After the intermission a different guest artist, Jørgen Munkeby, joined them on stage (someone whose name I didn’t recognize). This guy looked wild, like some kind of cross between a Fonzie character and a Viking. He was listed as a saxophonist, but in the first song of the second set he started by picking up a electronic wind instrument (EWI). When he started playing this instrument I realized that this was the sound I had thought earlier to be a synth keyboard. It was very nice soloing; strong, fluid and melodic - but as he played he prowled around the stage like a caged wolf (or some kind of rock star). In the next song he picked up an electric guitar at one point and proceeded to do some power chording and fast soloing… just like a rock star! On the third song in this set Jørgen actually played the tenor sax, with the same fierce intensity he showed on guitar - fast and powerful!

There was some tight ensemble playing with this group, some interesting interplay between various musicians (who took turns coming to the front of the stage to be featured). The band has two female vocalists, who sometimes sang wordless parts as part of the ensemble, and sometimes like a lead singer out front. Overall I thought it was a great concert, complete with musical humour (that most of the audience didn’t seem to get - my favourite being one song called I Have a Cold which began with two female horns players honking on their horns).

We didn’t get to hear the end of the concert, because we needed to get to the Kino and the Tord Gustavsen concert, which was the main reason we came to Kongsberg in the first place. So with the band still blasting out a tune Beth and I headed out of the Tubaloon and down to the Kino, the sound of the band slowly fading into the evening.

Kongsberg - Where Silver is King

2009-07-08T14:23:00.002-06:00

Wednesday July 1 we enjoyed our final breakfast at Per’s, following which Per played some music for us, first on his Hammond B3, and then on one of his accordions. He is an excellent musician, and we heard more evidence of this in the car on the way to Kongsberg as he played us a recording from a band he was part of. He also gave us a CD of his most recent recording and we look forward to being able to play it when we get back to Canada.

Per and Truls drove us to Kongsberg (saving us from taking the train, a very generous act on their part). Along the way they showed us various places of interest (and told us that the round straw bales wrapped in white plastic are known in Norway as tractor eggs). We saw the largest Ski Jump in Norway, and I wondered if that sport would ever grow in Canada. With the Olympic facilities in Calgary I thought that might have happened, but perhaps we are too stuck on hockey (which is not a big sport in Norway unlike its neighbour Sweden). The Ski Jump facility in Oslo could hold crowds of over 50,000 spectators, it is a big deal in Norway.

In Kongsberg we settled into our Hostel Room - and were pleased to discover that it was a nice facility, but unfortunately it had no air conditioning (and our room faced south, so it got a little warm to say the least). Of all the hostels I have been in I think this may have been the nicest, but then again it was also the most expensive to stay in by far (but cheaper than staying in one of the local hotels which were twice as much money or more!) Speaking of money, Kongsberg was originally a town built around the silver mines, and silver is the theme of the city. From what I understood the coins for Norwegian currency have been minted in Kongsberg as long as there have been Norwegian coins - we saw the building where the Royal Norwegian Mint is currently housed.

Beth and I wandered around in the afternoon (with the purpose of finding the venues for the evening concerts at the Jazz Festival). The Tubaloon (a special structure designed for the Jazz Festival as their main stage), was actually quite close to our Hostel - right next to the famous Kongsberg Church. This structure, partially framework, and partially inflated fabric, is supposed to represent the inner ear in a stylized manner… certainly is interesting to look at.
We didn’t think the Kongsberg Church was much to look at from the outside, but we had some time and so we went in (had to pay admission however). The inside took us completely by surprise - baroque and big (seated 2400). Apparently the church was designed by two architects, the first was a pietist who didn’t have much use for excessive adornment, he was responsible for the exterior of the building. After he died another architect took over, and he was a flamboyant man - which accounted for the drastically different approach to the interior. Some interesting features of this church:
- the pulpit was built into the altar piece (right above the altar and below the pipe organ - see the picture, that‘s the pulpit and altar - note the large silver candlestick holders).
- there was a box for royalty (just like a theatre box) still used today only for royal visits.
- the main chandeliers were made with multi-coloured glass (very unique and very expensive).
- the altar faces west (rather than east) because this was the direction of the mountain with the silver in it, something the Kongsberg folks felt was a blessing from God (though to me it almost seemed like it was a subtle statement about the worship of money rather than God).

During our time looking about the church we heard the Danish Big Band warming up outside, this whet my appetite for the first concert of the evening (especially this nice synth keyboard playing… which I later found out was something else). Following our time in the church we walked into the city centre, where many booths were set up selling a variety of goods: hand crafted jewellery, clothes, art items, and so forth. We found the Kino (or Cinema) where the Tord Gustavsen concert would be later in the evening and then we headed back to our room where we rested and did a little internet work (the hostel had free internet!)

More of Royse

2009-07-08T14:17:00.003-06:00

Our tour around the Royse area (where the Nosterud farm is situated) continued with a trip to the Hole Church (not 'hole' as in a empty space, but a Norwegian named pronounced something like hol-la), which was rebuilt after a fire in the 40s. I think that this was the church my grandparents were married in (though none of the cousins could answer that for sure). The rebuilt church has a very modern design painted on the ceiling, certainly not what we expected when we first walked in. The over all look of the sanctuary was simple and uncluttered (very different from all the other churches we have visited in Europe), only some decorative items from the original church building that were rescued from fire (the altar piece for example) were more fancy in appearance.

I also was invited to play the organ in this church. It was a nice relatively new instrument in great condition (though I am reminded that I am a pianist, not an organist - my attempt at pedal work was laughable). It is a tracker organ, meaning that all the workings are mechanical (versus having the keys trigger an electronic switch that opens the air flow to the various pipes). As a pianist I like tracker organs, simply because the more stops your have pulled (meaning the more pipes you have playing with each key you press) there is a bit more resistance to the fingers - thus it has a similarity to the piano in that regard. The family wanted Beth to sing something, so she sang one verse of I am So Glad Each Christmas Eve (the only song she knows in Norwegian) much to the delight of the relatives.

In the Hole Church graveyard we could not locate the grave of my great-grandmother (my grandpa Nosterud’s mother). It is in an unmarked grave and the church records were too vague to determine an exact location. However we did see the grave of my great-grandfather (and his last wife). This same grave site was also used for Truls and Per’s parents - it was common for the same gravesite to be used by multiple members of the same family. The cousins had purchased some flowering plants, and they spent some time that afternoon cleaning up the grave site a bit and planting the flowers. Over here we have seen many people in the graveyards watering the flowers around the graves of their family members - each cemetery has large watering cans just for this purpose. In some cases the family can pay for someone to care for the gravesite, but from what we could see many people took this responsibility on themselves.

After visiting the Hole Kirke we took a road up the side of a mountain by the lake, known as the Queen’s Road. There used to be a chair lift going up the side of the mountain years ago, it has been a favourite lookout site for many decades. The view from the top was awesome. At the top we also saw part of the King’s Road, and ancient road that went through this region. It was so steep that horses used to pull a tree behind them on the way down as a form of brakes. Hard to believe horses and carts used to go up and down that road - no nice switchbacks or tunnels to make the grade less steep!

The final lookout point we stopped at was a hang-gliding take-off point (though it looked like it hadn‘t been used very much recently). Apparently this was a great place to hang-glide, the up-drafts are strong and people can stay in the air for a long time. I tried to imagine running down the wooden ramp and jumping into thin air - even with a hang-glider it still seemed crazy.

At the bottom of the mountain we said goodbye to the cousins who came along for the trip (Kari, Anne-Berit, Sissel & Terje). Then Beth and I were taken back to Per’s house for some relaxing. We started on our catch-up work, mostly backing up and cataloguing pictures. Before supper we went for a little swim in the Tyrifjord, the lake is shallow for a long ways out right by the Nosterud farm, so we took the row boat out a few hundred meter and jumped in there, but even so it wasn’t very deep. The water was a nice temperature however.

The day concluded with another fantastic meal cooked by Per (a wonderful chef), and then we spent some time afterwards visiting. The idea was to get to bed earlier than recent days, but we weren’t all that successful. But when we did retire to bed the coolness of the room was nice after a long hot day. Sleep came easy!

Across the Tyrifjord to Djupvarp

2009-07-08T14:10:00.004-06:00

Just down the hill from the Bønsnes Kirke is a boat loading area. There we met Truls who would take us by boat to Djupvarp - the summer home of my Grandma Nosterud’s family. This summer home (or cottage in Canadian parlance) was across a large bay from the Nosterud farm. As we leisurely motored across the lake I imagined my grandfather Lauritz rowing a boat across these very waters to meet his sweetheart Aarny (who became his wife and thus my grandmother). It would be a little ways to row, but young love provides lots of energy. From the Djupvarp property one can look across the water and clearly see the Nosterud farm (and vice versa).

We took some time to look around the outside of Djuvarp - unfortunately there was no one home to let us in to see the inside of the house. I noticed that there was a major addition since the last time I saw it in 1980 (a deck and sun room). Arriving by boat gave me a new appreciation for the beauty of the buildings and their setting, it truly is a special place. The current owners have done a nice job of maintaining the buildings, and even making the new additions blend in stylistically. I was glad to see that it was still in good condition, obviously well loved and used.

The rest of the group drove around the bay by car and met us at the property. Here on the shore we had a picnic lunch enjoying another hot and sunny day. The Norwegians love the outdoors, and we did as much eating and visiting outdoors as possible, and they especially took advantage of nice weather like we were fortunate to have.

A few interesting notes from our visit to Djupvarp:
- the two little cannons on the property have been restored since my last visit.
- Thor (Per & Truls’ father) made the iron gate to the entrance to the property.
- glancing in the windows we could see that the kitchen was a mixture of modern and traditional.
- leaving the property it became obvious that the easiest way to Djupvarp was by water, the road through the trees was rather rough and difficult to navigate (how much more difficult with horse and cart).

One final thought, after seeing the beauty of Djupvarp I found myself thinking of the incredible contrast my grandmother must have experienced coming to the prairies of Canada. Going from living in relative comfort and a certain level of wealth to living in poverty in a non-insulated wooden grainary must have been a monumental shift in experience. Even just the weather would have been enough of a contrast, southern Norway does not get nearly as cold as the prairies in the winter, and seldom gets as hot (though it was plenty warm when we were there). I don’t ever recall my grandmother as a bitter person, which would suggest to me that she came to accept this huge shift in her life and would simply make the best of it. I admire both my grandparents ability to survive such a life-changing move, though I know it was very difficult… it makes any problems we face today seem tiny in comparison.

Bønsnes Kirke

2009-07-08T01:42:00.002-06:00

Tuesday morning, June 30th, we awoke to another beautiful day in Norway. After a nice breakfast at Per‘s we loaded into cars and went on a tour of the area. The first stop was the Bønsnes Kirke (Church). King Olav the Saint (995 to 1030 AD) was born near the site of the church and there is a tale that says it was built by the King himself (the tale says during a voyage on the Tyrifjord Lake he found his life in danger and he promised to build a church if he and his men would reach the shore alive). Olav is important in Norwegian history because he is the first King to establish what would become the modern borders of Norway, unifying the people (at least briefly) of the whole land. He is considered a saint because he brought Christianity to the interior and north of Norway, and after he died people claimed to be healed by his relics - thus began a long tradition of pilgrimages to Trondheim where Olav was buried. This Bønsnes Kirke was one of the stops on the pilgrimage journey.

Some of my mom’s cousins participated in a modern pilgrimage a few years ago, retracing the route the early pilgrims took. They had pictures and newspaper clippings of the event - it seems to be a significant thing to do and the pilgrimage trail is marked along the whole of its route. Here we were on our own pilgrimage intersecting with an ancient pilgrimage that until we arrived in Norway, I did really know about.

The church is from the 11th century, and is one of a few privately owned (or endowment) churches in Norway. This means that rather than being owned by the Church of Norway it belongs to the people living in the Hole area. An elderly fellow, who has been looking after the church since the early 70s let us in to have a look around. Inside we found some interesting features, here are a few of them:
- a pew with a lock where prisoners could sit while attending worship.
- chairs in the meeting room made from trees, in one piece (including the hollowed out part under one of the seats to store some drinks.
- a old pipe organ, at least 2 and a half centuries (which I got to play).
- an altar piece with mermaids as part of the decoration (see the picture).

Some special services are still held in the church, but only about 6 times a year, the regular worship services for the area take place in the Hole Church, which we saw later that day. I ended our time at the church by climbing up to the bells, which I tried to record a bit by ringing them with my fist, but I’m not sure it turned out that well, but it was fun to try. For the first stop on our tour that day it turned out to be an interesting and educational place to visit.

Crustaceans and More Crustaceans

2009-07-07T15:18:00.002-06:00

As we were touring around on Sunday morning with Sissel and Terje, Sissel got a text message from Kari saying that we were going to have prawns for dinner that evening. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach until Sissel continued with the message saying that Kari would help me. I knew I would be fine with these cousins to guide me. When we sat down for the meal later that evening, there were indeed two very large bowls of prawns on the table (complete with their eyes and everything). As promised, we were shown how to peel these shellfish and get the meat out. We then put it on bread with some mayonnaise and dill - a most delicious thing to eat. Kari had also put cheese on the table as an alternate, but that wasn’t needed. (Sissel is most efficient with the prawns and quickly gave Dennis & I each a sandwich to start us off.)

The very nice thing about a prawn supper is that it becomes a lengthy affair. It’s pretty labour-intensive so you also have lots of time to visit while you’re working on your meal. As Anne-Berit’s husband, Knut Erik, commented, you don’t just sit down at the table for 10 minutes and then go off to do other things. This becomes a real occasion.

The second occasion was at Per’s house the next evening. As Dennis mentioned, Per had prepared a lovely four-course meal for us and the last thing to be served was a huge wooden boat filled with what they call Kreps. These were about the same size as the prawns we had at Kari’s but quite different in appearance. They were dark red and had claws similar to a lobster. Except for the color, these reminded me more of what I had tried to eat in Scotland. Once again I needed a lesson, I knew sort of what to do with the main body but wasn’t sure about those claws. Per told me he didn’t bother with the claws because you couldn’t get much out of them, although I did notice other people tackling them as well. So again, these were peeled (making sure you got rid of a part of the spine that was apparently poisonous) and put on bread with mayonnaise. Kreps live in rivers and later on when I looked them up in a Norwegian/English dictionary, it called them crayfish. Whether you call them Kreps or crayfish, they are still a very tasty dish.

Nøsterud Fixed Up

2009-07-06T15:39:00.003-06:00

After the park we walked back to the subway and this time took it all the way to Kari’s neighbourhood, and then a short walk to her house. This could easily be the most walking we’ve done in a single day on this trip, Beth’s pedometer was over 30,000 steps - at least 5000 more than any other day that I was aware of. At the house we had a simple supper with some of the other cousins (with Sissel & Terje and Anne-Berit) who had showed up. Then we loaded into cars and headed out of the city to Nøsterud, the family farm.

When we arrived we unloaded our luggage at Per’s place then walked a short distance to the Nosterud farm. The first thing I noticed is that Truls has fixed it up quite well, the outside of the buildings are in much nicer condition than the last time I was here 29 years ago. We wandered around the farm yard, taking pictures, the cousins sharing memories, and generally enjoying the beautiful evening. We took a quick look inside the house where my grandfather grew up, marvelling that such a large family was raised in such a relatively small house.

The day ended with a wonderful four course meal at Per’s place (Per has been a caterer as one of his occupations, and his great cooking and hosting skills were shown in abundance that night). We ate on a deck built up on the hill behind his house, giving us a beautiful view to go with the wonderful food. Looking out over the top of Per’s house (which has a grass roof!) we could see the lake, the family farm and the surrounding landscape. The meal included smoked salmon with a spiced mustard sauce, rummegrot, sandwiches with a platter of cheeses and smoked meats, and concluding with kreps - Beth will tell you about these in another post).

Finally the long and very full day drew to a close. Beth and I went to bed in a basement room in Per’s house, which was nice and cool, and a welcome change after a very warm day. Everyone keeps telling us how fortunate we are with the weather - we’ve been hearing this since we were in the U.K. - and certainly we can’t complain about the weather, even when it gets a bit too hot for me.

Walking Through Oslo

2009-07-06T15:32:00.002-06:00

After the visit to Rainbow Studio we began a walking tour of Oslo with Kari Grande. We walked down the path by the river, going through the old textile mill area. The river was lovely, and the coolness that we felt walking beside the water and in the shade of the trees was welcome on a very hot day. There were some nice waterfalls and interesting buildings. Along the way Kari would give us bits of history, pointing out various monuments, buildings and sites.

Here are a few cool things we saw: the first iron suspension bridge in Norway (with a sign that read “100 men can cross this bridge at a time, if they are not marching”); an old concrete grain terminal converted into student housing; an old church (the Gamle Aker Kirke - literally “Old Aker Church” in Norwegian) - from the 11th century, but still in use today. Kari was baptised, confirmed and married in this church. We had a young woman as a guide, and it turns out that she is nearing the completion of her studies to be ordained as a pastor (or priest as they call them here) in the Church of Norway. It was good to see some evidence of faith in the younger generation over here.

We ended up at the central Library (Kari worked in a library for many years and seemed to be a devoted user of the library system, including finding the choir recording of Dype Stille Sterke Milde which I had mentioned in this blog). Downtown Oslo was interesting, especially the street that had quotes from Henrik Ibsen, perhaps Norway’s most famous and significant author, embedded in the sidewalk. From downtown we took the subway to Oslo’s most famous tourist attraction - Vigeland Park.

It was amazing to see this nicely landscaped park filled with bronze and granite sculptures by this early 20th century artist. There are over 200 large sculptures in the park, and much small detail work on things like the fountains and stairways. We found the famous statue called “Angry Boy” which has apparently been stolen and retrieved twice in its history. We concluded our visit to the park at the monolith, and huge sculpted column that is supposed to represent the struggle of humanity to improve its place in the world. When the park first opened the Norwegians weren’t too sure of it because of all the nude figures, but from my perspective Vigeland was simply following in the footsteps of the Greco-Roman, and later the Renaissance artists who desired to show the human form in its most basic and beautiful form. Certainly modern Norwegians have no problems with these statues, and as a society are much less inhibited about their bodies than Canadians - except of course for the Muslim Norwegian women, of which we saw many (covered up as required), especially in Oslo.

In the Rainbow

2009-07-06T15:19:00.004-06:00

Monday morning, June 29th, we ate an early breakfast with Kari and Magne because we had the possibility of visiting Rainbow Studio at 9 AM. Because Kari and Magne don’t have a car we took a taxi down to the studio (which is situated in the old textile mill area of Oslo beside a picturesque river). From the outside there is little to indicate the great things inside, just a little nameplate above the door buzzer. When 9 AM rolled around (we got there 10 minutes early so we just looked around the area first) Kari pushed the door buzzer. We heard a click indicating the door was unlocked so we pulled it open and walked in.

There didn’t seem to be much on the first level (and no one around) so we headed up the stairs - saw some old analog tape recorders and misc gear, but still no people so Kari called out hello (in Norwegian of course) and we heard a response from downstairs. Down we went to meet a man who looked to be in his mid to late 50's… and sure enough, this was Jan Erik Kongshaug - the great recording engineer himself. He greeted us warmly and showed us into the studio (which was on the main floor behind an unlabeled door).

For those of you who missed my early blog about Jan Erik Kongshaug let me recap a bit. This recording engineer has been behind the mixing board of many of my favourite recordings of all time. He probably has been involved in half of the recordings made for ECM Records, the most significant European Jazz Label for the past 40 years. Many of the recordings on ECM have been recorded or mixed at Rainbow Studio in the past number of years. Not at this specific space, because Rainbow Studio moved to its current location about 5 years ago (apparently the original space ended up with an Irish Pub underneath it, thus some unresolved disputes with the landlord, and eventually a move to the current space which Jan Erik said he likes very much). Mr. Kongshaug has been almost single-handedly responsible for changing the way jazz recordings sound - in the 70’s he (along with producer Manfred Eicher) created an approach to recording that resulted in “the ECM Sound” - which as best as I can describe it is a warm, clear, crystalline, detailed sound which hints at being in a cathedral. Jan Erik Kongshaug is a musician who also has an interest in technology, and this combination results in a high quality recording from both a technical and musical perspective. Jan Erik has won many awards and accolades over the years (and also some criticism in the early years from those who thought jazz should sound only a certain way). This was the legend that we met at the Rainbow, and it was a dream come true for me.

For half an hour Jan Erik showed us around the studio, talked about the equipment, reminisced about some of his favourite sessions over the years. During this time a group was setting up (bringing in drums and other gear), and the piano was being tuned. Mr. Kongshaug told me that the most important element in getting a good recording of a piano is to have it well tuned, this is the single most important thing he stressed. I think, once he saw that I wasn’t a crazed lunatic, but someone who simply appreciated his work very much, he was quite happy to show us around. At one point he was talking about doing a recent session with the Norwegian Pianist Ketil Bjørnstad to which I responded “I’ve been trying to get his Rainbow Sessions CD for months now but I haven’t had any luck” to which Jan Erik replied “Oh, I think I have a copy of that here.” This recording features three CDs, the first being the last recording session in the old Rainbow Studio, the second disc being the first recording session in the new Rainbow Studio, and the third disc being the first recording on the new Steinway piano which is now part of Rainbow Studio's gear.

After half an hour of visiting and looking at the studio I felt we should leave and let Jan Erik get on with his work, so I thanked him for allowing us to see the studio and to take some of his time. He was a very gracious and humble person and I was genuinely happy to meet him. Just before we left he said “Wait a minute” and he popped into another room briefly, returning with the 3 CD set we had spoken of earlier. He offered it to me, I asked if he would sign it (which he did) and how much I owed him for that - he very generously said “No, nothing, I hope you enjoy it”. So a big bonus, not only did I get to see Rainbow Studio, and meet Jan Erik Kongshaug, I also was given a rare CD set by a wonderful Norwegian pianist! It wouldn’t matter what happened the rest of the day - as far as I was concerned it was already a big success.

Oslo From Above and Movies From the Past

2009-07-05T15:51:00.002-06:00

Once we arrived at Kari and Magne’s house, we unloaded our luggage, then loaded back up in the car to get a good view of Oslo. We kept driving up the side of this small mountain (on the west side of Oslo), past the famous ski-jumping site (which was being rebuilt for the World Championship next year), and finally at the top was a spectacular view of the city. We could see the harbour where we first arrived, and many of the important places of Oslo. After a few pictures we got back in the car to get back to the house for supper.

Kari Grande has been following our blog, and she knew of Beth’s prawn experience on Iona… but that was the menu for this evening much to the amusement of everyone. I remembered having a family meal in that very dining room back when I first came to Norway. The attached picture is very similar to a picture I have from that first visit years ago… it was a bit of a déjà vu experience for me.

Following the meal we gathered in the backyard for conversation and some fresh air (we were in Oslo during a bit of a heat wave). Lots of enjoyable conversation, exploring more of the family history, or the history of Norway in general. Occasionally from further down the mountainside we could hear the cheers of fans at a football game (that would be soccer for us North Americans). We learned so much about Norway’s history and culture, and current realities that it was hard to soak it all in, but what an interesting way to spend an evening. The visiting continued until quite late (because as I have mentioned before the sky never started to darken until very late in the evening).

The evening ended with some home movies shot by the father of Kari Grande. This was mostly black and white footage from more than a half century ago. Some of the footage was taken at the Nosterud farm, and it was interesting to see moving images from that era - it made the history of Nosterud come alive a bit more than simply still photographs - an interesting experience for me.

Family Forest and Folk Museum

2009-07-05T15:47:00.002-06:00

After the big family gathering, the next day started rather quietly, which was a nice change. After breakfast we went to see the cabin in the forest. Sissel and Terje actually have three cabins, one in Sweden which they use in the winter for skiing, a larger one near their place which they use for family get-aways, and this little one that was built by Terje’s grandfather many years ago as a place to sleep while working in the forest. In Norway much of the forest is owned by individuals, often connected with a farm. Terje’s grandfather would spend the week in the forest harvesting trees (or sometimes hunting) and come home on the weekend. This cabin was not large (even though in the early years it would often be home to 8 men who were all cutting trees (think of that smell!). It over-looked a little lake, and was perfectly secluded from civilization (at least that’s how it felt). Now it is a place that Sissel and Terje will go to for the afternoon, just to get some peace and quiet (it’s about 20 minutes by car from their farm). Both Beth and I thought it would be a lovely place to spend a couple of days. In some ways it reminded us of the Hedlin cabin at Christopher Lake, but much more secluded (see the picture).

After visiting the cabin we drove to the school where Terje worked for many years, and right around the corner was Oddlaut’s newly finished house. It too over-looked a lake and was built with a traditional look and layout. It has kept Oddlaut and her husband Thor busy for the past couple of years, and they were proud to show it off now that it is completed (and rightly so, it was a lovely place).

Here we picked up Oddlaut’s twin sister Marit, who would catch a ride into Oslo with us. However, before heading into the city we stopped at a nearby Folk Museum. This community effort featured a number of old buildings restored to their original condition, and showed how people in the area lived a century or two ago. We saw many interesting features of these houses, but the most interesting were the short beds (not only because people were shorter in those days, but also because the practice was to sleep sitting up in bed). There was also a cute device in the one kitchen which was a pole that extended from the floor to the ceiling and had a hoop attached near the base. This device allowed a mother to put her toddler in the hoop allowing the child to walk in circles (and yet stay safely away from the fire - sort of like a early version of a Jolly Jumper).

We didn’t have time to look at everything in this Folk Museum, but we saw lots, and gained a deeper appreciation for the way our ancestors would have lived in Norway… it was not an easy existence, though they figured out many clever ways to make life a little bit easier.

Before we reached Oslo we dropped Marit off at her home in Lillestrom. It is an apartment which we only saw from the street, as we needed to get into Oslo in order to attend a family supper at Kari Grande’s place. Once in Oslo it took a little time trying to find the house (if streets were laid out in a nice grid like prairie towns it wouldn’t be a problem!). After a few inquires we arrived at the right house, which is partway up a mountainside, thus giving the occupants a nice view of part of the city.

A Program of Surprises

2009-07-04T15:26:00.002-06:00

Following the meal I was taken over to the local church where I met the organist (a British fellow named Richard). He showed me the new organ (which is an electronic instrument, similar to the one at Christ Lutheran in Regina, but using current technology and built by an individual organ builder, subsequently it had character like a pipe organ, and was easily the most realistic copy of a pipe organ sound I have ever heard from an electronic instrument). After a few lessons about the various buttons and settings Richard left me to play the instrument for myself. This was something my sister did when in Norway a number of years ago, she played the various pipe organs in the various churches they visited - I think the assumption was I would like to do that too. Well, I do love the sound of the pipe organ, but I am hardly an organist - my pedal technique is non-existent for one thing.

So I played through some hymns, then did some improvising. I tried to play the piano as well but it was locked. Soon the family gathering came to the church. There was to be a short program, with me playing the organ! Well I decided to bite the bullet and try something. I started by playing a couple of the hymns that my mom‘s cousin Kari had printed up (these were both from the album Dype Stille Sterke Milde, that features Tord Gustavsen‘s arrangements… Kari had been reading our blog!) Then I did an improvised piece beginning with a bell sound playing the melody of Dype Stille Sterke Milde. I got through it, and I think it sounded okay, now it was time for the next part of the program.

The oldest surviving cousin of my mom, Johan, told about the family history and some of his memories about the Nosterud farm. He was nice enough to tell all this in English so Beth and I could understand. For some of the stories he switched to Norwegian (these were some of the improvised moments) and these stories resulted in some laughter from the gathered family. Johan gave us his notes so that we could have something to share with the family back in Canada.

As part of the program another of the cousins, Per, played accordion while Kari Grande led the group in singing some Norwegian folk tunes. Everyone seemed to enjoy the music and the stories, but when the program ended, it was time for a group picture on the steps of the church then folks started heading for their various homes. It had been a full and interesting afternoon. Many of the folks there said they should get together more often and talked about doing something like this barbeque on a regular basis. Thus while Beth and my visit was the impetus for the gathering, it really had a life of its own. I hope they continue to meet so that the family history has a chance of being passed on to the younger generations.

I learned some new things on that day, things such as the information that my great-grandfather Christian Nøsterud (whom I never knew, nor actually did my mom) came to the United States (to Duluth, Minnesota specifically) in 1880 with his brothers, and that he was the only one who returned to Norway. Thus there is a good chance that we had Nosterud relatives in the United States that we never knew about (I think none of the family in Canada know this - or maybe I just wasn't listening, it certainly seemed to be a surprise for the Norwegian relatives to learn this information). An even bigger surprise was that my great-grandfather may have been married three times, not just twice. According to a history book from the region that the Nosterud farm is situated in, my great-grandfather was married to a widow with seven children for a year between the marriage to his first wife (my grandfather’s mother who died young) and his other wife who bore him 5 more children. No one had heard of this before, and it is a big mystery, all the book said is that this marriage took place and lasted only a year. I have a photocopy of the chapter with this interesting information that I can share with my family back in Canada (though it is written in Norwegian and they’ll have to do some translating).

The day ended with a few of the cousins sitting outside at Sissel and Terje‘s place visiting as the sun slowly set. The other two cousins who were there were a set of identical twins‘ Marit, and Oddlaug (as if it wasn’t hard enough keeping all the family members straight! Sharing stories and yummy Crème Carmel (left over dessert from the barbeque) the day came to a delicious and delightful end.

Boys Became Men

2009-07-04T15:18:00.002-06:00

Saturday June 27th started with a lovely breakfast, at which both of Sissel and Terje’s boys showed up. When I visited back in 1980 they were just boys with whom I enjoyed playing (being nothing more than a big boy at that stage anyways). Now they are grown men with families of their own. Leif is a dentist (with a practice in Oslo) who lives on the farm in the house I talked about in the previous post - he and his wife Tone have three children. Tryggve is a teacher and lives with his wife Kjersti and two children in Fetsund, about a 20 minute drive from the farm. Tryggve pulled into the yard in his sports car, and I found out that up until a couple of years ago he raced motorcycles (much to the concern of his mother).

After breakfast it was time to set up for the big barbeque, tents were set up, barbeques pulled out and loaded with charcoal, and chairs and tables put out on the grass. At 1:00 PM people began arriving in droves, in the end there were around 50 people there, many of my mom’s cousins, with their children and grand-children. Many of these folks had not seen each other for years and thus there was much visiting and reminiscing. I could not keep everyone straight, especially the children and grand-children… but I think I got all the cousins sorted out. Some of these folks had been to Canada to visit in years past and it was nice to connect with them again. I particularly enjoyed meeting Sven again. He had come over to Canada in 1974 and we spent many days fooling around as only young teenage boys can. A few years later, in 1980, he showed me a little of the night life of Oslo when I visited Norway following the Camrose Lutheran College Choir Tour. Now he has teenage children of his own, one who was in a golf tournament (golf has become a big sport in Norway) that day (36 holes in temperatures over 30 degrees and high humidity!) That's Sven with me in the picture.

Guests came from all over Norway, including some who came from Geilo, at least a 4 hour drive. Many folks wanted me to greet the family back in Canada, and many wanted to know how the Canadian Nosteruds were doing. Thankfully most of these folks could speak English quite well and so we had little trouble conversing. My Grandfather Nosterud had 4 siblings, and 5 half-siblings (his father re-married after his first wife passed away). So there are lots of cousins and extended family.

The food was organized as a bit of a pot-luck, and Beth and I got to try barbequed moose (which had been marinated in a nice sauce making it moist and tender). There was certainly more variety than one would see at a typical Canadian barbeque - besides the moose there we noticed fish, sausages, pork, beef and something that looked like huge Hersey‘s Kisses.

Fjord and Farm

2009-07-04T06:57:00.003-06:00

On Friday June 26th we got up, had breakfast at the hotel, then called a cab. We had debated walking to the ferry terminal, which was only 4 blocks from the hotel in Frederikshavn, and had even gone there the night before to get our bearings (so we thought). It was a good thing we called a cab, because we would have ended up in the wrong place on the pier if we had walked. So, needless to say, we got on the ferry without trouble and were soon on our way to Oslo.

We both had been a bit worried about this crossing because it is the route that my dad got so sick on a number of years ago. However, our trip was very smooth, and the boat very big, so we hardly felt the movement of the waves at all. Our ferry seemed to be over-run with children, there were kids everywhere. Probably families heading off on summer vacation. One of the most bizarre sights involving kids on the ferry was watching adults playing the slot machines with their children or grandchildren. One time a little girl was pulling the arm on the slot machine with her dad (I assumed) feeding it coins. Wouldn’t you know they hit a jackpot, and lots of coins came out. I thought “Way to go dad, now you’ve shown your kid that gambling can pay off, perhaps establishing an addictive behaviour for life."

As with most of our trip, the weather that day was beautiful. Sailing down the Oslo fjord we noticed lots of little boats enjoying the perfect boating weather. There were many motorboats, often coming alongside the ferry for a bit to wave at the people on board. There were some sailboats, both large and small, and even a racing boat that went by us at an incredible speed (I think I managed to snag a shot but won’t know until I process my slide film). A few of the boats got too close to the ferry and as a result got a blast from the ferry’s fog horn. Apparently the ferry captains hate all the small boats clogging up their sailing lanes, that certainly was the case that day.

Once we disembarked we found my mom’s cousin Sissel waiting for us at the Ferry Terminal. We loaded our stuff in their van, and then she toured us around Oslo a bit, showing us many of the main sights in central Oslo. After a little of this we headed out to the farm she lives on with her husband Terje. Their farm is near a village called Lø ken (about an hours drive north-east of Oslo). Many years ago (in 1980) I stayed at this farm for a few days after being in Europe on a choir tour. The farm looked as lovely as ever, and now Sissel and Terje’s younger son lives in the house where Terje’s parents used to live. (Actually this is not technically correct because it is a new house. They story is that they were going to renovate the house, but the timber and beams were in rough shape so it was better to tear it down and build from scratch, which is what they did except they built an exact replica of the original house - only a little bit larger, and with radiant heating in the floors and other modern construction techniques. However the old house continues to exist in a form - Sissel and Terje saved many items from the old house, such as windows, and built a little summer house - like a gazebo but in the shape of a little house - and they placed old furniture and such items from the old house in it - see the picture).

Terje had been away at a funeral in the south part of Norway that day, but when he returned home we had a lovely supper with shrimp, eggs and peas in a cream sauce on some pastry shells (Terje’s favourite). It was very pleasant visiting and catching up on all the family news. Here the sun is still up in the sky quite late (Oslo is at the 60th parallel, the same as the northern border of Saskatchewan and Alberta - thus while not quite the land of the midnight sun, it was certainly light late into the evening and early in the morning. This was something that would take a bit getting used to.

Quick Update

2009-07-02T02:37:00.002-06:00

Hello to all who are following this blog... you may have noticed that we haven't posted for a few days. That isn't because we haven't been doing anything worth writing about, quite the opposite. Since arriving in Norway we have been busy morning, noon and night with my mother's relatives. It has been a great time, but not one with a lot of time for writing. I have been keeping some notes and hope to have some real posts in a day or two, but for now we just wanted you to know that Norway has been great!

We've met lots of family, seen lots of beautiful countryside, ate lots of yummy food and learned much new information. For those interested, we did get to Rainbow Studio and did meet Jan Erik Kongshaug, we did attend the Blood Sweat Drum 'n' Bass Big Band concert in the Tubaloon, and most recently we attended the Tord Gustavsen concert (which was very, very good) and even got to meet Tord for a few minutes after the show. So everything I wanted to do in Norway we have done (thanks mostly to my mom's amazing cousins). Now we are going to meet some of Beth's extended family.

It is very hot and humid here, and both of us are wishing we took more hot weather clothes rather than cool weather, which we have hardly used at all on this whole trip. Not that we're complaining about the weather, its been nice not having our sightseeing made difficult by wind and rain. So that's it for our quick update, hopefully some new posts will appear in a day or two.

The Sahara in Denmark

2009-06-27T15:27:00.003-06:00

Thursday we left the Skjern area and this would be a crazy day - one in which we would try to use the public transportation system in a country we weren’t familiar with, to reach a remote area where part of Babette’s Feast was filmed. The day began well enough, with Jørn being able to give us a ride into the train station (rather than take a taxi), he was heading in to the last day of school (he is a science teacher) and so his work schedule worked out perfectly with our travel schedule.

We boarded a train in Skern armed with my list of what station we had to transfer to a different train in order to get to Hjørring. At our first transfer point a train arrived earlier than we expected, but it was going to Frederikshavn, so we hopped on. Turns out this was a train that was late, and thus we were able to catch a train that would take us straight to Hjørring without anymore transfers, and as it was a bit of an express route, with fewer stops along the way.

This was great as it would allow us a bit more time to visit the Mårup Kirke and the Rubjerg Knude Lighthouse. When we got to Hjørring we loaded our luggage into some lockers, then walked a block away to the bus terminal. It was going to be almost an hour before the next bus left to Lønstrup so we wandered about Hjørring a bit. I managed to find a photo store that had Velvia film, so I bought some more rolls (because I am on the last couple of rolls of the ones I brought from home).

The bus, once we got on it, took us to Lønstrup, which is a bit of a resort town, with lots of camping and cabins available. We figured it was because of the beautiful sand beaches that we could see when we were at the coast. We were dropped off at the local tourist bureau which was just closing but we were able to get a map and directions (and a few postcards) then it was off on our own two feet.

We first walked to the Mårup Kirke. This church on the sandy cliffs by the sea is in danger of falling into the ocean soon, so most of the church has been moved (the interior furnishings and the roof). Still at the site is the large anchor (salvaged from a shipwreck a few centuries back) and the walls of the building. While we were there a tour group came, and while we were taking pictures we suddenly heard singing, and to our surprise the tour group was holding some kind of the service on the grounds of Mårup Kirke. Their singing reminded me of little section in Babette’s Feast with the sect members singing before and after the meal.

Off a little way away we saw the huge sand dune and the top of the Rubjerg Knude Lighthouse. There was a path along the shoreline which we took. Sometimes we were led through areas filled with a thorny type plants, and Beth’s bare legs (below the knees) were paying the price. When we finally got to the dune it was enormous, and made of very fine sand. We climbed to the top where you could see the wind blowing the sand around. We both thought that it felt a bit like being in the Sahara Desert - the huge dune, the sand getting in our shoes, and the heat beating down on us (it was quite a warm day).

The lighthouse was not covered by sand (I think it has been dug out) but sand dunes surrounding it were half way up the structure. We both took lots of pictures hoping that some of them will give a sense of the size of this dune. All along this section of the coast you could see the power of nature at work, especially the force of erosion.

We walked back into town and we figure it was a good 5 - 8 kilometre round trip. We certainly got our exercise that day! We managed to catch the bus back to Hjørring about 10 mintues after getting into town. From there we picked up tickets and waited on the platform for the next train to Frederikshavn. Right on the platform we had a bit of a picnic lunch eating left over bread and cheese from yesterday’s supper.

The train arrived, we headed east - I was looking out the windows to the north where the area where Bindslev is, this is the region where my ancestors on my Danish Grandmother’s side come from. More trees than I expected, and obviously not hand planted, it seemed like a pretty area - though perhaps when the winter winds blew it would not seem like such a nice place to be.

We got to Frederikshavn, where we took a taxi to the hotel (and got ripped off - the hotel was close enough that we could of walked had we had a map). The cab that was next in line at the taxi stand was a wheelchair accessible one, and I think we paid extra for it (this morning we paid almost half to get to the ferry which was three times as far!) Oh well, I’ll let it go - most of the time we have done quite well with doing things for a decent price, and I should be grateful for that.

So we did a crazy thing - we got out to the Mårup Kirke and the Rubjerg Knude Lighthouse without renting a car, and dealing with a pile of luggage to boot. So pretty well everything I have hoped to do in Europe I have now done (and Beth has been gracious enough to go along with me on these crazy jaunts). Now we are sailing to Norway (as I write this entry) and there family will take care of us, a nice change from the past couple of weeks.

The Land Where My Ancestors Lived

2009-06-27T15:21:00.003-06:00

I thought we were pretty well wrapped up after looking up the church records, but at this point Pastor Jens suggested we try to find the place where the family lived in Finderup. He dug out another book, did some checking in there, then suggested we visit a 87 year old man in Finderup for further information. Off we went, and then Pastor Jens was knocking on the door of a house, and then we were being led into the garden where the source of knowledge of days gone by was picking berries. Sure enough he knew of the family of bricklayers, and after a little more checking in a book about Finderup it was determined the exact location where the Henriksen’s lived. We drove a little way outside the village to a place that didn’t seem that old.

It turns out that the old buildings that were on the property have been long gone, though where the current house is placed matches the place where a small house with a thatched roof sat. So now we were standing on the land where the Henriksen’s lived before crossing the Atlantic to North America. This trip to the west part of Jutland was far exceeding my expectations, and Pastor Jens was being an excellent tour guide (that‘s him in the picture with me) - basically giving up his whole day to show us around. I felt blessed by all this.

I thought it significant that the oldest mission house of the Lutheran Mission movement was only a few hundred metres away from the home of the Henriksen family. It is possible that a certain form of pietism has been part of the family history for a number of generations. My understanding up to the point of this trip was that the approach to Christianity that my Grandfather had was the result of a religious experience in his young adult years with a travelling American evangelist. I’m now considering that a more pious and evangelical approach to Christian faith has long been part of the Henriksen experience. When I get home I plan to do more research into these 19th century mission movements in Denmark.

After seeing the land where the Henriksens lived we headed into Skjern with a stop by the river first (it is the largest river in Denmark based on water flow). Then Pastor Jens took us to a grocery store so we could buy a few items for supper (he really had thought of everything!), and finally we ended up at our Bed and Breakfast. After a supper we relaxed, did some work on the computer and took a few pictures - then our day of digging into my family history drew to a peaceful close.

In the Book

2009-06-27T15:04:00.002-06:00

After the church in Finderup, Pastor Jens showed us a large patch of land that showed the original way this region would have looked in centuries past. Instead of trees and fields of grain there was mostly heather. Apparently sheep can live on heather, and that was mostly what you would find in this area of Denmark, sheep farmers. We looked out over the land from this high point (set aside like a nature preserve). We got even higher by climbing up on a burial mound. These were dotted all over the landscape, and are very ancient, dating back 3000 to 4000 years.

Next we visited to Sædding Kirke, where Søren Kierkegaard’s father attended at one point in his life, and even Søren himself was there once. Apparently when he was about ten, Søren’s father cursed God from the top of a hill nearby, cursed God because God wasn’t taking care of God’s people. According to Pastor Jens (who was a bit of a Kierkegaard expert) that curse shaped the life and religiosity of the Kierkegaards, and influenced Søren in his writings many years later.

We also had many Mission Houses pointed out as we drove around. In this area of Denmark there were three revival movements (for lack of a better term). The one started by Grundtvig, but wasn’t as influential in this region, and then the Lutheran Mission (similar to the Haugian movement in Norway I think) and the Inner Mission (not as anti-church as the Lutheran Mission). These organizations would have their own meeting halls, and set up their own groups - though their members would probably be officially members at the local Lutheran Church (and would commune once a year to maintain that status).

We ended up at Pastor Jens’ new home, we would call it a parsonage (a house owned by the church but made available for the pastor to live in), but it was more than that. Attached to the house was Pastor Jens office (a lovely, large room looking out over a valley… I admit I was a bit envious), and a large meeting room where confirmation classes would be taught and Parish Council meetings would be held. While the setting and construction of the house was very nice, both Beth and I were unsure that having the Office and Meeting rooms attached was ideal. Another interesting thing was that Pastor Jens mentioned that they had just moved into this new house and it was smaller than their previous house. It seemed pretty large to me, until I saw a picture on the wall of the previous parsonage - which looked a bit like a country home for some aristocrat. But in conversations with Pastor Jens I determined that the high level of respect Pastors in Denmark were once shown was disappearing - in fact I found a number of parallels between their experience and ours.

One similarity, for example, is that they are struggling with rural de-population, just like the Canadian prairies. One of the ways they are managing this shift is by combining more congregations together into one parish. Pastor Jens used to be responsible for just 2 churches, in the past couple of years he has been responsible for 4 churches. They too are losing young people from their region, and the younger children do not attend worship like they used to due to sports and other activities on Sunday mornings… sound familiar?

At Pastor Jens’ home we met his wife Kirsten, who had a nice lunch prepared for us. In touring their new house we saw a room that was an art studio, Kirsten is an artist who likes to put religious themes into her artwork. The lunch was a typical Danish lunch - open faced sandwiches. I even had one they called “The Veterinarian’s Night Bite” which was basically a liver pate covered with a couple of pieces of some kind of sliced meat, and topped with a substance I can only describe as a jellied form of beef broth. We had a nice visit, us asking questions about Denmark and the Danish church, and them asking us questions about Canada and the Canadian Lutheran church. I believe the conversation would have continued for a long time if Kirsten didn’t need to go to work (she works in a local Senior’s Home).

Following lunch on Wednesday Pastor Jens said “Let’s see if we can find your grandfather in the records” (All the records for the past 100 years, from all 4 churches he is responsible for are stored in this parsonage in a fire proof vault in the basement). He dug out the book from 1908 and with the flip of a few pages there it was - the name Harry Henriksen, on the top of the page. That was quite a thrill for me, though it is hard to put into words exactly why. We spent a little more time looking for the records of others from the family (of which we found a few). I took photos of each of the entries, and Pastor Jens made photocopies for us as well. In some way seeing the names in the book made this journey seem more real, which is strange because it felt plenty real before that, but seeing the name Harry Henriksen in the book has made a difference.

Bricklayers and Finderup Kirke

2009-06-27T14:58:00.002-06:00

What an interesting coincidence that we arrived at Finderup to find some bricklayers (or murers) working on the church building (doing some maintenance). The whole reason we were coming to this church was because there is a very good chance that my great-grandfather and his brother worked as murers on this very building. The church construction started the year my grandfather was born (as indicated by the 1908 painted on the pulpit), but was not completed until 1909, the year the Henriksens moved across the Atlantic (where they became the Hendricksens). Because the church was not finished at the time, Harry was baptised in the Hanning Kirke in the next closest village.

Because this church was newer it was missing some of the features of the other churches we looked at - gone was the triumphal arch, and the weapons room, the 3 foot thick walls and narrow windows. In the Hanning Kirke the original windows were left on the one side of the church, but after the reformation, when the parishioners would now need to read the hymns and liturgy, larger windows were put in on the south side of the church to let in more light. The Finderup church had larger windows all around.

On the back outside wall of the church there was some interesting brickwork, which formed a cross. I wondered if my great-grandfather or his brother shaped that expression of faith in their handiwork. Most buildings in Denmark are still made with bricks - even the new parsonage (more on that in another post) was brick throughout, even the interior walls. In North America we build things to last decades, in Denmark they are built to last centuries… we could learn something from them.

So now I had seen the church where my grandfather was baptised, and the church that quite likely my great-grandfather helped build - that was all I had hoped to see, but it seemed like Pastor Jens had more to show us, and he said “I have arranged lunch for you.” This was turning out to be more than expected, much to the gracious and generous hosting by Pastor Jens Holmgaard.

Inside the Kirke

2009-06-25T15:27:00.003-06:00

After a lovely breakfast provided by our hosts, Jø rn and Irene, we were met by Pastor Jens Kristian Holmgaard from the local parish. Pastor Jens looks after four churches in this rural area of Denmark, including the two I was interested in seeing. After some quick introductions he suggested seeing Hanning Kirke (church) first. Driving through the area I thought it reminded me of the area around Brooks and Tilley, except here there were more trees. They were irrigating crops in places, and the ground was quite flat, the grain fields were beginning to ripen and I was beginning to feel at home (including the hay fever which has kicked in). Pastor Jens told us that all the trees in this area were hand planted a little over a 100 years ago, to prevent soil erosion from the strong winds… so it is like the prairies in many ways!

At the church the first thing we noticed were the immaculate graveyard beside the church. We met the caretaker of the grounds, and he seemed like he really cared about his job… within minutes he had located some gravestones of my ancestors, including one I will have to research more when I get back. But he somehow knew that the Henriksens were bricklayers (or murers in Danish). This man has a full time job looking after the graveyard (which is pretty much the whole of the church grounds), and we’ve never seen anything like it before - very beautiful and respectful - we could take a lesson in Canada from these Danes.

Inside the church I found the baptismal font that my Grandfather, Harry Henriksen (as it was spelled in those days), was baptised in. It was larger than I anticipated, large enough to immerse an infant, which was the practice for many years… but then too many infants got sick and died after being immersed in water in the cold months, so the practice of sprinkling was developed (according to Pastor Jens). The font is made of stone, and is very old, dating back many centuries - perhaps even older than the church building (which was built in the 11th century).

A few other interesting features about this church: There is an entrance called the weapons room and it was in there that men in the earlier centuries would leave their weapons before entering the sanctuary. There is an arch which divides the altar area from the nave, this is called the Triumphal Arch and is a symbol of the victory of Christ over sin and death. The arch can not be perfectly symmetrical however, since only God is perfect - so little imperfections, in the form of differences between the two sides of the arch, are intentionally put in by the stone workers. The altar in these old churches always is in the east, thus the congregation always faces east in worship - the place of the son rise, and returning Christ. Pulpits were added after the reformation (there really were no sermons prior to then), so in the case of this church in Hanning, a hole was cut into the one wall by the Triumphal Arch so that there could be room to put in steps up to the pulpit. Many of the pulpits that were created shortly after the reformation have paintings of all four of the gospel writers on them (we saw two examples of this on out tour with Pastor Jens).

We took lots of pictures, and even waited until 11 AM to record the church bell (Pastor Jens was amazed to learn that many churches in western Canada do not even have bells, let alone ring them regularly - he asked “How do people know it’s time to go to church?” We shrugged and said “They look at their watches”. Certainly not as interesting as hearing the bell ringing in the distance.) For us the bell meant it was time to move on to the next church.

Sailing into History

2009-06-25T13:11:00.003-06:00

Both Beth and I had an enjoyable trip on the ferry. I decided I had a little Viking blood in me because I have enjoyed our boating experiences so far (this one and the ones around the Isle of Mull). As we were arriving in Denmark we went past a huge wind farm out in the sea. It was something to see these huge wind turbines spinning their blades out in the midst of the waves. (We found out the the company that makes these huge wind turbines is from a little town called Lem, close to Skjern where we were staying). By 1 PM we had arrived in Esbjerg, Denmark. Wandering through the town we could tell that it had been a destination for ferries from England for many decades as many of the local restaurants had English menus, and there were English signs in lots of places. Later we learned that prior to the advent of cheap air travel there were 4 or 5 ferries making travelling that route regularly, now there is just the one travelling one way one day, then the other way the next day. I wonder when aviation fuel climbs in price if people will return to using the ferries.

We also saw off the coast of England many Oil Tankers, just sitting in the water, not going anywhere. I heard the ship’s information officer telling someone that they are waiting for the price of oil to rise. Some of these tankers have been sitting there for over four months.
Once in Esbjerg we had to take a cab to the train station (just too far to walk with our luggage pile). There were able to store our luggage, which allowed us the opportunity to look around the city a bit. Esbjerg is the 5th largest city in Denmark, but even so it was not it that big. Beth’s curling iron died the other day, so we were on the look out for a new curling iron, and I am running out of slide film, so we took our time wandering in and out of shops around the city centre.

We climbed the old brick water tower (which was legal in case you think this was like the mischief we might get into as teens). We got a nice view of the city and the harbour, including the boat we travelled from England, which was still in port. Right beside the Water Tower was the Music Hall (Musikhuset), and of interest to us was that it was designed by the same fellow who did the famed Sydney Opera House (the one that looks like sails billowing in the wind). This building was nothing like that, rather than billowing curves it was based on the hexagon, throughout the whole structure. Still it was an interesting building to have a look at.

By this time our stomachs told us it was meal time. We looked at a number of places, but settled on Café Valter. There I had the largest Ham and Cheese sandwich ever. My meal also included a pretty yummy milkshake with raspberry, pineapple and forest berry in it. The weather was perfectly delightful so we ate outside, the only problem with this was that was where all the smokers ate as well. We have seen more smoking in public on the European Continent than we’ve seen for years. I felt sorry for the little baby who was surrounded by two adults (mom and grandma?) smoking continuously.

After our meal we headed back to the train station, collected our luggage out of the lockers, and boarded a little modern train (2 cars) for Skjern. This train was very comfortable, with lots of room for our luggage, and it had free internet wireless access! I found out later that the west coast of Jutland in Denmark was the first place that wireless internet was made available on trains.

In Skjern it took a while to figure out how to get a cab, but eventually with help from the girl behind the train counter, a cab was called and we made it out to the Bed and Breakfast (on a farm about 5 kilometres out of town). Our hosts, Jø rn and Irene, were very gracious, inviting us to have some coffee and freshly picked strawberries (from their garden). They asked us questions about our trip, and about Canada - we are the first North Americans they have had stay at their place. Following coffee we got a tour of their garden, very nicely done. The whole place had a sense of calm and relaxation about it - a nice ambience for us at this point.

They also have wireless internet which has allowed us to do some catch up with the blog, some checking of financial items, and emails. I was going to catch up completely but found myself too tired, and so have left the rest of the writing until today (while we are on the train from Skjern to Frederikshavn). So I went to sleep thinking that I was in the same territory that my ancestors come from, and I fell asleep wondering what the next day would bring.

Eye in the Sky

2009-06-25T13:07:00.004-06:00

Monday morning we slept in a bit, enjoying our luxurious room a bit longer. Then the inevitable packing up, checking out, storing our luggage at the hotel. Once those practical concerns were taken care of we headed out for a bit more London sightseeing. This time we headed down the south bank of the Thames, which had all kinds of restaurants, museums and art galleries. We grabbed a quick bite at a place called EAT. Beth had a Full English Breakfast on a bun, and I had a Eggs Benedict on a bun. They were heated up in a panini grill and hit the spot nicely.

Following this quick bite we kept on down the Thames. We came across a section of the quay where all the tree trunks were wrapped with bright red and white polka dot material. We were trying to figure out what was going on until I noticed a sign on the sidewalk indicating that this was an artist’s installation called “Ascension of Polkadots on the Trees” by Yayoi Kusama. Shortly after this we got to the London Eye. For those of you not familiar with this name, it is the very large Ferris Wheel built in the centre of London for the Millennium celebrations. We had fortunately purchased tickets already through the concierge at the hotel, which saved us waiting in one line at least. Within 20 minutes we were loaded in our capsule and going up, up and around.

The day was a little hazy, but we still got a great look at London. It was weird looking down on Big Ben! There were a couple of little girls in our capsule, and they were amusing to watch on our ride - one kept saying “There’s an Ice Cream stand” and the other saying, “Don’t even bother to take a picture of it, I’ll just delete it.”

After the ride (which takes about a half hour) we walked past Big Ben (where I got a recording of it striking 12 noon, something I missed the other day). Then we walked along the north bank of the Thames back to our hotel. It was a nice way to spend the morning.

Back at the hotel we gathered our luggage, took a cab to the Liverpool Street Railway Station where we caught a train to Harwich, the port where we board the ferry to Denmark. In our short time in England we have used 4 different train stations in London!

At the port in Harwich we were met by a very cherry clerk at the Ferry Station, and then simply had to wait for our boarding call. When the call came it was a long walk to get to the boat, but soon enough we had wrestled our luggage into our little berth (actually it seemed very spacious compared with the berth we had on the train to Glasgow). The boat pulled away from the pier and we were on our way… goodbye UK, hello Scandinavia.

Moot Worship

2009-06-25T03:09:00.002-06:00

After spending a little time in the area with Big Ben we strolled back in the direction of our hotel, with a quick stop for ice cream along the way. We continued past our hotel heading towards St. Mary Woolnoth Church where we hoped to catch a Moot worship service. We arrived just in time for the beginning of the service, and were welcomed by the friendly group (which was not too large, perhaps about 20 people).

The Moot worship had visual elements in it, lots of silent spaces, some creative presentations of the scripture readings, and an interesting way to do intercessory prayer. Before I knew it the service was over, and folks were putting the audio visual gear away. Many folks came up and chatted with us, and we were invited to a local pub, which is a traditional thing this faith community does after the worship.

On the wall in the church was a plaque for John Newton (the writer of Amazing Grace) since this was the church he served for over 20 years at the end of his ministry. St. Mary Woolnoth is also another Christopher Wren designed church, and we were told by one of the members of the Moot community that he apparently used some of the dimensions from Solomon’s Temple in his design. It wasn’t a large church, but it was very tall. St. Mary Woolnoth is in the very heart of Old London, and is currently surrounded by the Banking Area of the city. In this way Moot is a bit like a prophetic presence, as one of their central concerns is justice and peace, not profit and power.

The Moot Community is hoping to establish a new monastic community, and have been working with the Church of England authorities to get this established, but so far have not had much success. They are an interesting group of younger people, with a commitment to the Gospel that is deep, and yet they function in a very accepting and non-judgmental manner. It was a good experience worshipping with them - completely different from what we experienced in the morning at Canterbury Cathedral, but inspiring in its own way.

After the service we walked over London Bridge to get to the pub where we had interesting conversations with a number of people from the Moot community. I particularly had an deep conversation with a young Irish man, who is seeking to find his place in the world (and the church). Eventually the sky grew dim and folks started leaving, so Beth and I bid farewell and walked back to our hotel.

Our hotel room is quite simply the nicest room we have stayed in yet (and will likely ever stay in our this trip). We found out when we booked in that we had been bumped up to a higher level room (I’m not sure why, but these Air Miles have gone a long way in this case!)

Along the Thames to Big Ben

2009-06-25T03:05:00.002-06:00

We arrived uneventfully in London, no Tamil demonstrations this time, had another talkative cab driver giving us information about various things, checked in at our hotel and decided to take advantage of the gorgeous weather and walk along the river embankment to see Big Ben. This was another of the things that Anna was interested in so we knew we had to get lots of pictures.

After a (very) quick 25 minute walk we arrived at Big Ben and the Parliament buildings. We had to jostle a little for picture-taking positions since a large portion of the London population (or maybe just all tourists) were also enjoying the lovely day. We got some great shots with the sun glinting off the tower. I was interested with the Parliament Buildings to also note how large and elaborate the Sovereign’s entrance was. I was also reminded of the turbulent history of Britain when we walked by the barriers protecting the Houses of Parliament from any potential car bombers. England on the whole is very security conscious, I first realized this when we were at Euston train station waiting to go to Glasgow and I couldn’t find a garbage can anywhere. This is common tradition, they have people continuously wandering through the station to pick up trash, there aren’t even garbage cans in the washrooms - it’s a very different feeling.

Anyway, back to Big Ben. Dennis also wanted to try and record the sound of the clock chiming the hour so we nipped through the park behind the Houses of Parliament. Unfortunately there wasn’t full access all the way around so he wasn’t close enough to get a good recording but I did get a nice picture of the statue of Emmeline Pankhurst in the park.

Worshipping at Canterbury Cathedral

2009-06-25T02:57:00.003-06:00

On Sunday morning we were woken up at 7:45 AM by the bells of the Cathedral sounding the wake up call - these bells went on for 10 minutes! There were actually bells throughout the morning, sometimes a single tone struck repeatedly, like the wake up call, or sometimes a variety of tones in a pattern, or even (seemingly) random. We couldn’t figure out what most of them were for, but it was nice to hear. Beth wondered if the locals got sick of the bells, but we enjoyed them.

After breakfast, which was delivered to our room, we got ready for worship. We went to the Sung Eucharist at 11 AM, the primary of the 5 services being held at the Cathedral that day. We were arriving pretty well right at 11 AM and so were held up by the ushers because the procession was about to start. All of a sudden we were surrounded by a massive organ sound, then the congregation swelled into song and the procession made its way into the cathedral. I was surprised that we were going into the front part of the cathedral since there was a huge nave behind us, but then we went through the doors at the tail end of the procession and were astounded by the huge space in front of us. The Cathedral was a bit misleading, it was very long, and the part we saw the previous evening (which we assumed was the majority) was probably not even half the space. (This service was using the High Altar, and we walked up a number of steps to enter the nave, and another bunch of steps to the altar rail for communion - High Altar indeed.) So we entered this historic space to a glorious sound of pipe organ and singing… the sound was as large as the space!

During the worship service I came to a new understanding of choral masses, participating in one in that grand space things clicked. The choral masses were written for spaces such as this, and in the Canterbury Cathedral I found a new appreciation for those works. That morning there was a visiting choir from Sussex as the Cathedral Choir was on tour somewhere. We were told by a guide that choirs from across England queue up to sing fill-in at the Cathedral, and I can believe it, it would be great to have the Christ Lutheran Chamber Choir experience singing in a space like that. This choir was not robed, and was obviously volunteers, but they did a really nice job, especially of some Haydn selections, and the Bruchner's Locus Iste (which the Luther College Choir sang this year). Beth and I were certainly getting to hear a lot of Haydn this past week.

I also came to a new understanding of how the choir can be used in worship. This was something I have understood theoretically, but having experienced it at Canterbury Cathedral has given me an actual example to relate to. However the architecture, acoustics and seating arrangement of the worship space helped in this regard.

During the service I found myself thinking “We are worshipping in a place where Christians have been worshipping since the days of the Roman Empire.” In fact, truth be told, I was thinking some of those thoughts during the sermon, which that morning was being delivered bv a female preacher, the Arch Deacon of the Cathedral. It was based on the Gospel, a reflection on fear, why it is sometimes necessary and good, but more often it is destructive and contrary to faith. But as the sermon had to be delivered in a measured pace (due to the acoustics in the Cathedral) it came across as a little dry. Being there I came to understand more fully why music, and speaking, needed to be done in a slower, measured pace, the reverb in there made anything else impossible… perhaps that’s why people associated slower hymns with reverence since that’s how the hymns were played in the cathedrals, thought of as the pinnacle of worship expression, and copied by church musicians back home.

I certainly felt inspired by the worship that morning, mostly because of the glorious organ music accompanying the hymns. I would have liked to sing loudly along with the hymns, but two things prevented that - first I’ve developed a bit of a cold and sometimes things like singing will induce a coughing spell, and second, none of the hymn tunes were familiar to me - even with the closing hymn, the words were very familiar (Love Divine, All Loves Excelling) while the tune was vastly different.

Following the service Beth and I took a long time wandering through the cathedral, and especially appreciated seeing the spot where Archbishop Thomas Beckett was murdered in the 11th century. It is partly because of this martyrdom that Canterbury became a pilgrimage site. I wondered if I would be as calm as Thomas Beckett, who insisted the monks unbar the door “I will not have the church become a fortress” allowing in the knights who murdered him on the spot. Later Henry the 8th ordered all shrines to Thomas Beckett destroyed (I guess he didn’t like the idea of people celebrating church officials who stood up to the King). We saw a stained glass window in Christ Church Cathedral in Oxford that was special because it is one of the few images of Thomas Beckett to have survived Henry the 8th’s purge. In the Canterbury Cathedral, where the original shrine to Beckett stood, there is only an empty space, with a large lit candle in the center of it (see the picture).

Some of the stained glass windows were incredible, but I liked a modern window the most - the red, purple and blue hues were deep and brilliant. The old technique was to paint on the stained glass windows, thus the natural beauty of the glass was often shrouded a bit, but this new window was simply glass in such great colours shining through in all its fullness.

Afterwards we checked out the shops in the Burgate (the little shop area right around the gate to the cathedral) and much to our delight a ceramic shop that we spotted the day before was open (even though the sign didn’t indicate a Sunday opening). We had noticed a beautiful red chalice and paten (the cup and plate used for communion). And the price was very reasonable… well now we could check it out more closely. In the shop was lots of beautiful plates, vases, cups and so forth - all fabricated on the premises. In the end we couldn’t resist, I picked up the chalice and paten set (along with a matching candle stick holder) and Beth got a very cool nativity set. We have paid to have the shop ship the items directly, and even with that added extra cost it was very reasonably priced.

Then we popped next door to a old fashioned candy store to pick up some unusual goodies for Beth’s candy jar at work. Then our time in Canterbury was up, we collected our luggage from the hotel (lugging it down the narrow flight of stairs to the street level), caught a cab to the train station, and headed back to London.

Pilgrims in Canterbury

2009-06-24T12:00:00.003-06:00

Once in Canterbury we took a cab to our hotel, the Cathedral Gate Hotel, then up the staircase to the second floor where reception was. We were shown to our room, which was known not by a number, but by a name - the Daybreak Room. This room was on the third floor overlooking the Canterbury Cathedral. To get to the room we had to take a few little twists and turns, and down a small flight of stairs - definitely an interesting design which was obviously put together over the centuries.

We went to the Cathedral to have a look around after the Evensong service was over (which we missed by half an hour), but were promptly chased out because they were preparing for a concert there that evening. So instead we looked around for a restaurant - Beth had a Ploughman’s dish, I had a Sweet Potato, Beans and Spinach with Curry dish (not exactly what I would think was a traditional British dish, but then again sitting right next to us were a couple of gentlemen of East Indian descant having some pints of Ale. We were so full when we finished that we couldn’t even have dessert though it looked great (more Sticky Toffee pudding which Beth was eyeing, and some Raspberry and Pear Crumble that I thought looked good).

Our stomachs full we wandered around the streets only to find that most of Canterbury packed up Saturday evening (other than the pubs) so we could only do a little window shopping. After this lost its charm went up to our hotel room to take it easy. This turned out to be a nice change, we just relaxed and listened to the concert from the Cathedral (it was the Verdi Requiem, and we could hear it pretty well at times from our room (that’s how close we were). So we looked out our window at the cathedral (the picture is the Cathedral in the evening from our hotel room window), I did some catch up on the computer, and Beth recorded her pictures and did some reading. Every once and a while the bells would chime, the music would swell and it was a nice way to spend a few hours.

We slept in a four poster bed with night curtains (not that we needed them, it was a beautiful evening. The windows over here do not have screens on them which I found a bit strange at first, but then again I’ve hardly seen anything that looks like a mosquito. The Cathedral was lit up at night, so we could continue to look at it, even when it got dark (at least until they turned the lights off at 11 PM, but by then Beth was already asleep, and I was getting ready for bed).
We both agreed that it was a good thing not being able to get into the Cathedral Lodge as originally planned, this hotel room was a decent size, had a good bed, and a great view…. and we were going to have breakfast delivered to our room (at no extra cost) the next morning - but that’s another day and another post.

Leaving Oxford

2009-06-24T11:58:00.002-06:00

Saturday meant time to leave Oxford behind. The first order of business was to box up all the books I have purchased so far on this trip, and ship them home by post. Yes it was somewhat expensive, but it was worth it knowing that I didn’t have to haul that pile of books around the rest of Europe with me. I sent them the cheapest way possible (by boat) and have been told it can take up to 3 months to arrive by that method, but the way I look at it, three months from now we will have a delightful reminder of our Europe trip show up on our doorstep.

In my limited experience I would say that Oxford changes tone on the weekend. For example, when I went to mail our parcel the street I walked down had various religious groups proselytizing the crowds, there were Christian evangelicals, Jehovah Witnesses, an Islamic group, and some other group that reminded me of some of the cults of the late 70s. Gone were the crowds of students (many probably on their way home, or simply still in bed recuperating from the year end festivities.

And gone were we as well, it was an enjoyable stay in this historic city that we have heard so much about over the years, but it was time to head to Canterbury. We walked with our luggage to a spot on the street where a regular bus service to London departs from. In London there were some demonstrations going on, so at first it appeared as if we weren’t going to be able to be dropped off that the train station we needed… fortunately just before we arrived the demonstration cleared up enough that we got to where we needed to go. Once I figured out how to purchase tickets, and for which train (with help from the Information person) we managed to board the train and head south to the ancient pilgrimage city of Canterbury.

Evensong and Danish Royal Chapel Choir Concert

2009-06-24T11:38:00.002-06:00

Friday evening began with Evensong at Christ Church Cathedral. This service is similar to the Sung Eucharist we attended the previous evening, but without the celebration of Holy Communion. Most of the liturgy in the service is sung (at least 90%) much of that by the choir. It was a nice way to shift gears after a full day of checking out Oxford. Following Evensong we went back to our hotel to freshen up and change into our formal wear so that we would be ready to attend the concert at the Sheldonian Theatre that night.

The concert we attended Friday evening featured the Danish Royal Chapel Choir with the Oxford Philomusica orchestra. The Danish Choir was configured like a traditional Cathedral choir - two thirds boys, one third men, much like the group we had just heard at Evensong. The Oxford Philomusica is an orchestra made up of Oxford folks, in fact we noticed that a lector from the service at Christ Church Cathedral the previous day was one of the cellists.

The first part of the program was decent, but since both of us were a little tired from tromping around all day, and it was rather hot and stuffy where we were sitting (in the first balcony) Beth and I were struggling to keep awake. I did remember thinking during a Handel selection “So this must be pretty close to how it sounded in Handel’s time", both the size of the orchestra, the type of choir, and the actual room we were sitting in, all combining together to produce a unique musical listening experience.

After some fresh air during the intermission, which renewed our energy and spirits, we were able to enjoy the second half of the performance more fully, this was the Nelson Mass by Haydn. I don’t think I’ve ever heard this Haydn work before, certainly not live. It was a great performance, and the young singers in the Danish Choir did a super job.

I found out talking to a woman travelling with the choir that they have won a Grammy Award for one of their recordings, plus other significant awards in Europe - so the Royal Danish Chapel Choir is certainly a notable group. The guest soloists were good as well, especially the soprano who in the first half of the concert also sang a solo piece (accompanied by the keyboardist from the Oxford Philomusica) Two items of note about this, he played on an upright piano (rather than a Grand, mostly likely because it would be near impossible to store a large piano in that building, considering how it was built (which of course was before pianos had really come into existence). The second was that the keyboardist was a stereotypical Brit (this being Beth’s observation) and I would have to agree… he was most amusing to watch with his flourishes and awkward manner.

It was indeed a huge contrast from the concert we heard the previous day, but moving and delightful in itself. I especially enjoyed the Danish folksong they did as an encore, it featured an echo group singing from the top balcony - a very beautiful lullaby. Thus after the concert (and another full day) we were now prepared for sleep, which we did after making our way to our tiny room on the top floor of our historic hotel.

Toasting the Inklings

2009-06-23T15:45:00.004-06:00

In the middle of Friday afternoon we returned to the Eagle & Child Pub, where we were able to be seated in the Rabbit Room. This was the very room at the back of the pub where C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Charles Williams and other members of The Inklings would meet on a regular basis. It was hard to believe that we were sitting having a meal in the same room that was frequented by the authors of the Chronicles of Narnia, The Lord of the Rings and The Place of the Lion.

On the wall in the Rabbit Room were pictures of some of the Inklings, and of most interest to me was an original letter signed by many of these same writers. I think it would have been fascinating to have sat in on one of their sessions, if one could keep up with these intellectual giants quoting ancient sources, referring to academic ideas, challenging one another - engaging in passionate debate.

I thought of how each of these authors I have mentioned have influenced me over the years, and how they were focussed for a period of time in this little room. There is nothing about the room that would speak of the hugeness of their ideas and imaginations, it is simply another room in another British Pub, but for us it was a vivid reminder of some great authors. So I toasted the work and memories of the Inklings, and enjoyed a fine meal besides.

Perhaps it was the inspiration of eating in the Rabbit Room of the Eagle & Child, but the very next thing we did was head to Blackwells, a huge bookstore in Oxford. In order to get an idea of what this place is like, think of a large Chapters, then double or triple the size, and fill it will mostly academic books on a wide range of topics. The religion section along was the size of whole bookstores back home. I found a sale box (an especially dangerous thing) and in it found the Oxford Complete History of Christianity on for half price! It is a good thing I had a limited amount of time to spend in that store. As it was I came out with a handful of books, including one that promises to be interesting reading, an analysis of C.S. Lewis’ writings called Planet Narnia. Both Harry Maier and Bryan Hillis suggested I had to check Blackwells out, and their suggestion was right on - it is a book lover’s paradise.

Keble College and Another Light of the World

2009-06-23T15:39:00.002-06:00

After punting Beth and I headed to another area of Oxford to look at Keble College. This College has a different architecture than most of the other colleges, an interesting contrast. We saw inside the chapel, with its towering ceiling and beautiful mosaics depicting scenes from the Old and New Testaments high up on the wall. The primary purpose of visiting Keble College was to see another version of the painting The Light of the World by Holman Hunt. We knew about version of the painting because Dr. Bryan Hillis, who attended Keble College when in Oxford, told us that he spent many hours in the little chapel (off the main sanctuary) where this painting is displayed. It was perhaps half the size of the one at Saint Paul’s Cathedral in London, but still an original and beautiful picture that invites reflection and meditation.

Leaving the chapel we saw students having some fun playing croquet in the quadrangle. The days we were visiting Oxford were when the school year was winding up for most students, thus we saw many young people in their academic attire, or in black suit and ties (going to or coming from year end functions). We also saw many who had been covered with shaving cream, silly string, barbeque sauce, with fake leis around their necks, and other marks of having just been the victim of some student hijinks. The thing that Beth and I both said while in Oxford was “They’re too young to be graduating from University” which really meant “We can’t really remember being that young ourselves.” I suppose for a couple soon to celebrate 25 years of marriage, we shouldn’t be surprised when much of the world seems younger than ourselves.

Punting in Oxford

2009-06-22T15:25:00.006-06:00

The Botanic Gardens backed on to a waterway and at various spots we could see people out punting. This is another thing that we had been told we had to do so after finishing our viewing of the gardens, we made our way across the Magdalen Bridge and down to the riverside where there were punts to be rented. <A punt is a flat-bottomed boat that requires a person standing in the back using a long pole to provide steering and propulsion. editor>

We weren’t entirely confident about our punting or navigational skills (mine in particular) so decided to pay a little extra and get a punt complete with a punter (not sure if that’s the correct title or not). These punts are all navigated by students so we thought it was worthwhile to help subside tuition. Our punter, Faith, was very capable and gave us a smooth ride past the Botanic Gardens and St. Hilda’s College, under a picturesque foot-bridge and ended by backing into the original spot (I have to back my van into my parking space at work and know how challenging that can be - I was most impressed by her skill in this regard). Faith wasn’t really chatty so we didn’t get a lot of extra information with our trip but I appreciated her other abilities especially as we saw several other students really struggling with their punts. Later on I saw an advertisement for opera punting - you could go in a punt and have people sing different arias while you travelled. That would have been interesting but sort of a repeat of the gondola ride we had in Venice with the tenor singing different works. I think in this case we were better off with Faith.

Botanic Gardens

2009-06-22T15:25:00.004-06:00

Friday morning was another beautiful day, warm and partly cloudy, again no rain. This was just perfect for our plans to visit the Botanic Gardens. These are very extensive gardens which have been in existence for hundreds of years. It’s a good thing that a map was included with the modest price of admission.

There are so many literary connections to these gardens. It was overlooking the water garden where we found the bench used in The Golden Compass trilogy (this where Lyra and Will would sit, in their own time dimensions, to feel connected to each other). Lewis Carroll patterned the Queen’s gardens in Alice in Wonderland after the Botanic Gardens and J.R.R. Tolkien’s favorite tree was the basis for the Ents in the Lord of the Rings series. You could really see the personality when you looked at this Pinus Nigra extending its branches far above the wall.

I loved looking at the vegetable gardens. Besides making me reminiscent of my garden at home (my pretty much non-existent garden this year, did you kids ever plant the potatoes?), it reminded me so much of Beatrix Potter’s book, Peter Rabbit, with all of the upside down baskets over the lettuce to protect it from rabbits.

The rock garden with its central fountain was truly inspiring. I kept thinking about what I could do with my space if I only had lots of time, a team of trained gardeners and the climate of Britain.
My favorite area was the beds laid out according to notes from the Superintendent of the Garden back in the 1600’s. In 1648 he had published a catalogue listing the 1000+ species of plant present in the gardens. This area was planned to include many flowers from that list. Most of them were in bloom so it was a beautiful site.

The gardens were also used for research in conjunction with various Oxford Colleges so when we visited the conservatories we saw many exotic plants such as passionflower (with a really unusual blossom), bananas, varieties of orchids (unfortunately none of these were blooming), ferns of every size and description and so many other things you just have to go and see for yourself. The most astounding were the lily pads in the lily house. They were massive! Each one was probably three feet across, I’d never seen anything like it.

All in all it was an amazing experience. I thought if I lived in Oxford I would certainly have to get a season’s pass because you could go back every week and see new things. It’s probably a good thing that the Arboretum was 6 miles out of town or I might still be there.

Contrasting Musical Experiences

2009-06-22T15:25:00.003-06:00

One of the things we were highly recommended to do while in Oxford was to take in an Evensong Service at one of the colleges, especially Christ Church College. So Beth and I made our way to Christ Church College where we were greeted by a porter, who when we told him we were there for the service, pointed us through the quadrangle to the two arches which led to the chapel on the far side (see the picture). A quadrangle is the inner space, a large courtyard of sorts, that many of these colleges have. We made our way through the well kept green space, entered the appropriate doors where we tried to sit in the closest available seat (assuming we would be at the back). An usher told us we couldn’t sit there, that space was for the choir, and so we were ushered all the way down the center aisle to a place where it was appropriate for us to sit. The seating arrangement threw us a little, as we were directly facing other folks across the centre aisle in what I assumed was the chancel (I should have brushed up on my cathedral floor plans before I came over!)

We soon discovered that this was not an Evensong service, but rather a Sung Eucharist. We weren’t exactly sure what we were in for, but we weren’t about to walk down the centre aisle again to leave. Soon the choir and worship leaders processed in. The Christ Church Cathedral Choir (a traditional boys and men’s voices choral group) did indeed sit in the seats we had recently vacated. The Dean of the Cathedral and other ministers were seated up at the end we were at. We were welcomed, told which book would be used and invited to receive communion if this was something we did in our own tradition. With that the service began.

A Sung Eucharist is basically a standard communion service, but with many of the liturgical parts sung by the choir rather than spoken or sung by the congregation. The congregational booklet had an English translation of any music sung in Latin, so that was helpful. As a whole the service was beautiful and easy to follow. The choir were very skilled, in spite of some of the members being quite young. I’m not sure how young the youngest singer would have actually been, but I thought not more than 7 or 8.

When it came time for the distribution of the elements Beth and I were a little worried because we were going to be some of the very first people to commune, and we didn’t know how this would take place (would it be common cup, or intinction, do we kneel or stand, do we leave as soon as receiving the elements, or wait for a blessing?) Well it was fortunately fairly straight-forward (common cup done continuously kneeling at the rail) so we survived that without making some embarrassing blunder (like sitting in the wrong place).

After the service was over we both agreed that it was a good thing that we squeezed that worship experience into our day, and we made plans to attend the Evensong the next day (we found a schedule and thus knew the following day would indeed be an Evensong service). Both the wonderful choral singing, and the impressive space (with its reverberant sound) made this a special experience, one we were happy to repeat.

We headed back to our hotel room to relax for a little bit before we headed over to the Sheldonian Theatre for a concert that evening. I mentioned how perfectly located our hotel was, well the Sheldonian was only a block away! The concert we were attending this evening was unplanned. While wandering around Oxford in the afternoon I came across a poster advertising “The World Premiere of Solstice Suite for Trumpet, Voice and Jazz Orchestra with the Oxford University Big Band featuring Mark Armstrong (composer/trumpet)”. Then we came across a young man handing out hand bills about the concert. I asked him if he was one of the musicians (I had a hunch) and sure enough he played trombone in the group. He assured me we would love the concert, so I thought we’d consider it and see how we felt in the evening. We felt up to going (Beth was gracious here) and we bought our tickets and went to be seated.

This group is apparently the first jazz group to ever play in the Sheldonian Theatre (remember this is the building Christopher Wren designed, the building Handel played in, where convocations and other special ceremonies have taken place for centuries). The program began with some shorter original pieces or arrangements of standards by Mark Armstrong (the guest performer with the band and an alumnus of Oxford University). The first number blew me away with the tightness of playing and control of dynamics. It was apparent that even those these were University students, we were listening to the best of the best, under a skilled director. After one song I knew I was going to enjoy the show!

The first half ended with a three part composition entitled Oxford Suite with the movements named “I - Isolation, II - Meditation, III - Determination”. This suite was composed by Mark Armstrong while a student at Oxford and featured him on flugelhorn and trumpet. Some beautiful, complex, dynamic music well performed by everyone. I was impressed that Mr. Armstrong composed this while a student, it showed a lot of maturity and experience. By the way, Mark was inspired by the composing and arranging of a Canadian trumpet player Kenny Wheeler (who has recorded many albums on ECM records). I could detect a Wheeler influence in the composition and looked forward to the major work premiering after the intermission.

The Solstice Suite was in four movements with some nice contrasts in tone, colour, tempo and dynamics. This group had a flute player which was a nice colour used throughout, though when the brass kicked in it was really just a subtle spice at that point. The fellow I talked to on the street earlier in the day had some excellent improvised trombone solos, as did all the soloists. The drummer was fun to watch and was very creative and nuanced, even as he was rhythmically solid. In the end it was an excellent concert, well worth the time and money spent. Who knows, maybe we saw some future jazz stars playing that night, though I wondered if Handel was rolling over in his grave. <I also enjoyed the concert - just found myself wishing for a little more leg room! editor>

High Tea at the Grand Café

2009-06-22T15:25:00.002-06:00

One of the major things on my list of what to do in the U.K. was to partake of High Tea. When we got our map from the Oxford Information Centre, I also asked the man where he would recommend we go for High Tea. He suggested the Randolph Hotel (large hotel mentioned in Dennis’ C.S. Lewis blog) as well as three smaller establishments.

I decided that the Randolph would go to the bottom of my list, to be our last resort and we went in search of the other places. The first one we were able to locate was The Grand Café. There was a line-up to get in - which I figured was probably a good sign. If a place is that busy, it often means it’s good as well. It seemed like a massive space until I realized that the back and side walls were covered with huge mirrors so it looked much larger than it really was. After waiting about 15 minutes I was starting to second guess our decision and we were about to leave when we noticed a group of six people starting to pack up their things.

Finally we were in, seated and looking at a menu - there were pretty much two options for me - regular tea with scones or high tea which included sandwiches with the scones (we also had the choice of the Grand High Tea, with champagne alongside the sandwiches and scones.) Somehow champagne at 4:00 in the afternoon just seemed too decadent so we ordered the High Tea. Dennis did opt for a lemon fizzy drink so he was closer to the champagne than I was with Earl Grey tea. Anyway, the sandwiches were quite nice - smoked salmon and cream cheese on pumpernickel and egg mayonnaise on white bread - but the real treat were the scones. They were wonderfully light and fluffy and served with clotted cream and strawberry jam - they were most definitely the highlight of my afternoon. Oh, there is also a historic aspect to this outing - there was a plaque on the wall that proclaimed The Grand Café to be the oldest coffee house in Oxford (so it was delicious and educational, all at the same time).

Walking in the Footsteps of C.S. Lewis

2009-06-22T15:15:00.003-06:00

Thursday morning in Oxford was one of the moments during our journey that I was looking forward to the most - the C.S. Lewis Tour. We started by waiting for our tour to start outside the Randolph Hotel (the designated meeting place). For those of you who have seen the movie Shadowlands, the Randolph Hotel was used in the scene where C.S. Lewis first meets Joy. I also found out from our tour guide that Laval University (of Quebec) granted Lewis an honorary degree, the ceremony of which took place in the Randolph. Though a little late, eventually our guide Ron Brind showed up, along with a group of Americans who came in from London that morning just for the tour. Ron is an interesting chap, and is well suited to leading this tour because he grew up near the Kilns, the 9 acre wooded area that was Lewis’ home for most of his adult life. As a boy Ron would go up to the house at the Kilns and ask Jack (the name by which everyone knew C.S. Lewis) if he could go fishing or hunting on his land. Later when Joy and her two boys moved into the Kilns Ron became a friend with one of Lewis’ stepsons, Doug… and the two of them would get into mischief together. So Ron had first hand knowledge of C.S. Lewis, and being a native of Oxford was able to point out many interesting things, and fill us in on some of the unique customs and traditions of that college city.

We started by going around some of the places right in Oxford that had a Lewis connection, most significantly Magdalen College where Jack taught for many years. Lewis was never granted a professorship at Oxford, some say due to jealousy about his fame, and others because of his noticeable Christian faith, or others suggest a combination of the two. Whatever the reason Lewis ended his teaching years at Cambridge because that institution offered him a professorship (even though he taught a Cambridge he still maintained his home at the Kilns). This slighting of Lewis was a common theme throughout the tour, as Ron told us that in Oxford you find little mention or recognition of C.S. Lewis (other than at the Eagle and Child Pub - more on that later), no plaques or statues, no official recognition or honouring of this significant author. This is something that Ron Brind is fighting a one-man crusade to rectify. It was only through Ron’s persistence that a plaque was placed on the house at the Kilns acknowledging it as the former home of C.S. Lewis.

Outside of Oxford proper, in an area known as Headington Quarry, at the local parish church, known as Holy Trinity Church, our guide told us that this was the only place we would find souvenirs that related to C.S. Lewis. This church was the home parish for Jack Lewis and his brother Warnie, the place where the Lewis brothers attended worship regularly for years. I bought the souvenir cup and a few greeting cards that featured the Narnia Window installed in this church. It is also in this church’s graveyard that C.S. Lewis’ grave can be found (though not in great condition - another thing that bothered Ron). It was something special to sit in the very pew where Lewis would sit, Sunday after Sunday. (The picture is of Beth sitting in C.S. Lewis' usual spot in Holy Trinity Church).

It was here, at Holy Trinity Church, that I was suddenly, deeply and unexpectedly moved - I know not exactly why. I found myself in tears as I thought about C.S. Lewis, and all he has meant for my faith journey. I might have expected to have a sense of awe at being at the Kilns - Lewis‘ home, or amazement at being in Oxford - Lewis‘ academic home, but it was at his spiritual home that the intensity of the whole experience hit me… being in the place where Lewis prayed, listened to sermons (even preached a few), sang hymns and communed was, in the end, the most significant of all. I was grateful that our guide gave us plenty of time for pictures, or to look around, or in this case to simply sit in the pews in quiet reflection.

The tour stopped at a number of places, including one of the houses J.R.R. Tolkien lived in (which was also in Headington Quarry). The last big stop was at the Kilns. The house at the Kilns was smaller than I expected, but the grounds were larger than I imagined. Wandering around in the woods by Lewis’ house one could easily imagine themselves to be in Narnia! The Kilns is currently owned by a C.S. Lewis Foundation, based in California, and it is they who grant tours of the building - we were fortunate to be there on a day when we could tour the house. We saw Jack’s bedroom and study, the kitchen and common room, all done up in the manner they would have been in the 40s and 50s. In the Dining Room was the original typewriter of Warnie Lewis. This was significant because it was Warnie who typed up all of Jack’s manuscripts (Jack didn’t type himself - he wrote everything out in long hand). So on this very typewriter displayed in the Dining Room at the Kilns was typed the manuscripts for the Chronicles of Narnia, The Screwtape Letters, Surprised By Joy, Mere Christianity and many other classics.

The tour ended up at the Eagle and Child Pub (back in Oxford). This was where C.S. Lewis with a number of his literary friends, known as the Inklings, would gather weekly. This group included J.R.R. Tolkien and Charles Williams. Beth and I could have stayed with the tour group and had a meal there but I had a Doctor’s appointment to keep so we decided to say farewell to the group and planned to come back another time to have a meal.

You might wonder why I went to the Doctor, well… in the morning, while having my shower, I discovered some kind of bug attached to my arm. I tried getting it off but its head was burrowed into my skin. It didn’t look like a tick, but having been warned about Tick-borne Encephalitis in certain regions in Europe we thought I had better be safe than sorry. When I got in to see the Doctor he didn’t even think it was a bug at first, but I assured him I had seen little legs so he looked again and said “Well what do you know!” Some sterilized tweezers later, and the bug was removed - which he assured me wasn’t a tick (rather something more like a kind of flea or small beetle). He told me to take an anti-histamine to take care of the minor swelling, and to come back to him if there were any problems. I can tell you now that nothing came of it, the red swelling went down and all is well. I’m still not sure where I picked up that little guy, perhaps tromping around the estate grounds of Glengorm Castle. Wherever, we have now purchased our own set of tweezers for if we happen to encounter a similar situation later.

Back to the C.S. Lewis Tour… I was looking forward to this part of our trip for a long, long time and it did not disappoint. I feel fortunate to have been guided on our tour by such a knowledgeable and passionate person as Ron Brind. I believe I have a little more insight into the person of Jack Lewis, and perhaps that will enrich my reading of his works, which I am sure to dig into again.

More Art and Artefacts Than You Can Shake a Medieval Sword At

2009-06-20T15:13:00.002-06:00

Wednesday morning we awoke to the rain falling gently outside. A rainy day in Glasgow was fine with us as we only had to walk a few blocks to the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery . There we spent almost 3 hours looking at an incredibly diverse display of archaeological artefacts, historical weaponry, social commentary, and artwork. We saw paintings by Vincent Van Gogh, Claude Monet, and many other French impressionists, we saw huge paintings done for Scottish castles, we saw a World War II Spitfire and of greatest interest to me was seeing the original of Salvador Dali’s “Christ of Saint John of the Cross” - an interesting and controversial work (when it was first painted in 1951).

Perhaps the most moving artwork we saw was an unusual three panel set, painted on the back of old flour bags and created by an Italian prisoner of war (Giuseppe Baldan) for a mud chapel in the POW camp he was in. The flour bag paintings formed an altarpiece and depict the Madonna and Child flanked by kneeling angels. They are set against the backdrop of the prisoner of war camp. These paintings ended up in the Kelvingrove Museum because of a Scottish commander who was in charge of the POW camp (situated in north Africa) - this commander was humane and compassionate in his treatment of the prisoners, and they insisted on giving him the artwork at the end of the war (after he managed to save it from being destroyed from local soldiers). Reading the story of the paintings and then looking at the actual artwork almost brought tears to my eyes.

There was so much to see (that is an understatement), we totally missed the bird exhibit, and like Beth said to me, in the one gallery each of the paintings had interpretive centres that if you had the time you could explore the details of each painting - that one gallery alone could take hours! So maybe not the absolute “best museum and art gallery in the world", but we can certainly agree that it was big, it creatively displayed its collection, and there were some stunning pieces in that collection… and most astonishingly it has free admission! Amazing.

Back to the hotel to collect our luggage, and we were by the 4th generation of this family business! A very professional pre-schooler was helping her grandma, and dutifully took the key for the luggage closet and opened it up for Beth and I. Her grandma proudly told us that she has a lot of interest in running the hotel, and that certainly was in evidence at that moment.

We’ve started to figure out this train thing, like how to figure out which platform to get on, and which coach to get on, and when, and most importantly - what to do with our luggage. The train ride through the countryside on a rainy day gave us a picture of what I expected to see when coming to the British Isles, but as for the rain, so far it has mostly happened while travelling and hasn’t really put a damper on our plans at all.

By the time we got to Oxford in the early evening the rain had stopped. The taxi stopped outside our hotel, but at first I thought he was wrong - we could hardly spot it, since it was simply a small sign on a wall by a door, and nothing else. We rang the doorbell and were let in by a gracious, if somewhat informally dressed, host. He booked us in, showed us to our room. This hotel (or guest house as it is also being called) has real character: it has 17th century origins (which I was constantly reminded of as I kept banging my head on the low doorways); the floor in our bedroom was not level; old wooden beams showed up throughout the building; and of course the bedroom was small and we shared a bathroom with two other rooms… but the price was way better than the other accommodation in the area, and we are centrally located (ideally located as it turned out), it would be easy to walk to everything we want to see. While we did a little looking around that night, the real sightseeing would begin the next day.

The Best Museum (and Bus Driver) Ever

2009-06-20T14:43:00.002-06:00

Alas, before we knew it our time at Glengorm was over, and the taxi had arrived to take us to the bus. It turns out that the cab driver was a former constable from Glasgow, and when he found out we were from Canada he became quite talkative, telling us historical things about the area and things to see in Glasgow. He told us that the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery was “The best museum in the world”. He also informed us that all the museums in Glasgow were free admission, a truly remarkable commitment to culture and education on the part of the city. (Beth already knew this because of internet research, and had picked the hotel we were booked at because of its proximity to the Kelvingrove Museum… but it was nice to have that affirmed by a local). Even though he moved to the Isle of Mull because it was a good place to raise a family he still spoke with pride about his native city.

Buses in the United Kingdom work differently in Canada, at first I thought the Isle of Mull buses worked this way because they were a family run business unique to the island, however we discovered the same thing when we were going from Oban to Glasgow. After the taxi dropped us off in Tobermory we took the Isle of Mull bus down to Craignure where we boarded the ferry to Oban. According to my internet information we would have about 25 minutes between when the ferry docked and the bus for Glasgow left. We had decided to take the bus to Glasgow rather than the train for two reasons, first because there was a run that worked well for our schedule, and second because it would give us some different scenery than the train trip out.

So lugging our luggage off the ferry we walked around the terminal, past the train station to where the map indicated the bus station was. Only problem was that I couldn’t find the bus station and we were running out of time. All I saw were some bus stops on the street with a sign that read “Local Buses Only”. I was beginning to get frustrated (and a bit worried), and Beth took over, asking some local folks, and it was through this that we discovered that what looked like a standard curbside city bus stop was indeed where we caught the bus to Glasgow… there was no terminal! In the U.K. most of the time you buy the ticket directly from the bus driver. Sure enough, shortly before the designated time a bus pulled up and when I asked if this bus went to Glasgow it was affirmative.

So we get on, take the front seats so we can see, and have a lovely drive from Oban to Glasgow. Once the driver discovered we were visitors, and were from Canada he pointed a few things out to us along the way. We drove the road that follows the shore of Loch Lomond which was pretty, if a bit nerve wracking at times (the driver said his wife never drives with him when he’s on this route). At one point he asked where we were staying in Glasgow, and nodded his approval when we told him.

In Glasgow, when we had arrived at the station he asked us to stay on for a minute - I thought it was to let the others off first so he could help us with our luggage - instead, once everyone else were off the bus he said “I’ll take you folks to your hotel, it’s close to the bus garage anyway.” It turned out he had the wrong hotel at first (but the right area), and eventually after driving around the block, we were let off right in front of our hotel door! Could you imagine a Greyhound driver doing that in Canada? It seems that everyone we were encountering in Scotland went out of their way to help us.

That theme continued as we checked in at the Kelvingrove Hotel, an establishment run by three generations; grandmother, mother and daughter. We were met by a very friendly receptionist, shown to our room (surprisingly decent sized) and told about eateries in the area when we asked. Such pleasant people, everywhere!

Our day ended with a great meal at Sutherlands - a restaurant across the street from our hotel (Steak and Ale pie for me, Beth had Fish and Chips - the nicest battered Haddock so far! I also discovered a great Swedish Pear Cider called Kopperberg, what great pear flavour, even better than the one I had in London). After a long afternoon of travelling and a very filling meal we had had enough, time to sleep and get ready for tomorrow.

By the way, the picture is of Dennis pointing at an unusual traffic sign we saw in a number of places driving through Glasgow. In other words, it’s not just the law, it’s common sense too!

In Search of Bluebells

2009-06-20T07:14:00.002-06:00

After a fairytale sleep in the castle (the most comfortable bed yet) we were ready to start our day. First, down to the beautifully decorated dining room for a hearty breakfast. Those of you who know Dennis’ morning habits would be amazed to see him tucking into these Scottish breakfasts. You start off with fruit, yogurt and either cold cereal or porridge. Normally this would be my typical morning meal so I was caught off guard the first morning in Scotland when this turned out to be the appetizer, so to speak. After the fruit, etc. then you get the hot breakfast - eggs cooked to your liking, sausages, bacon (more like back bacon than the streaky bacon we’re used to), potato scone, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms. The good thing about such a substantial breakfast is that you really don’t need to eat anything else until supper. The bad thing is that with such a substantial intake you really need to balance with your calorie output or else. Glengorm has a valley on its property where bluebells grow rampantly. That was one of the things that interested me about it so we set off on a hike to find it (even though Tom had warned us that we were just at the end of the bluebell season so probably wouldn’t find that much).

As we were trekking along, we came across a herd of Highland cattle. This was also on my list of things I wanted to see because they’re very unique with really shaggy, long hair and long horns. It was fascinating to see so many up close. However, being a town girl I would have preferred a nice fence between us, especially since we had read that you have to be extra cautious at calving time. There were a couple of mamas eyeing us suspiciously so I took a couple of quick pictures and then we carried on. <Wearing a red jacket didn't add to my comfort level with those long horns pointed at us. Dennis>

Our path led us beside a stream and soon we came to Scout’s bridge. It was beautifully covered in moss but wasn’t safe to use so we had to ford the stream. Like Dennis said, you almost felt like Robin Hood or something crossing the water, going from rock to rock.

We finally got to what we figured was Bluebell Valley and there weren’t many bluebells left so we took what pictures we could and set off back to the castle (with a slight detour down to see the Atlantic). That was pretty much all for our time at the castle (the standing stones of the evening before were very much a highlight), just enough time for a quick stop in at the coffee shop, where I had fermented Victorian lemonade (another taste experience) and then it was time for our taxi to come and take us on to the next adventure.

Glengorm Castle - Living a Fairy Tale

2009-06-18T16:38:00.003-06:00

We took a cab to Glengorm Castle - something that at one stage we had thought we might be able to do walking… we would have been crazy! It was uphill all the way and over a twisty narrow rough road. The irony is that is cost us twice as much to take the cab to the castle as it did to take the bus across the island.

When we pulled up to the castle it was in an incredible setting, overlooking the ocean, high on a bluff. We were shown in by Tom, the owner and resident of the castle (he grew up here himself, and is now raising his family here). He showed us around the inside, the breakfast room was stunning, and the library like something out of a movie. Our bedroom was the largest sleeping space we have had on our trip so far - double the size of anything else. The bed had the fluffiest comforter and mattress, like sleeping in a cloud - I joked with Beth about the princess and the pea.

After we got ourselves established we went out for a hike and some picture taking - near the castle is an ancient ring of standing stones and I had wanted to get a picture of these. While we were out in the field (with all the sheep and goats - this place is a working farm) the sun came out giving me great light for some photography.

We ended the evening in the library, we both had a sample of Iona Scotch, can’t say that I really enjoyed, but it was something we thought we should try while here (and besides the samples were complementary). While Beth was reading some P.G. Wodehouse in the library I went back outside to take some sunset pictures, the nicest sunset I’ve seen since coming here. Then we retired to our big comfy bed. All the hassle of getting out here was quickly erased by the magical setting, it’s a little like living in a fairy tale.

Leaving Iona and Across Mull

2009-06-18T16:33:00.002-06:00

Monday morning it was raining on Iona, soaking our shoes which we had left out to dry! I didn‘t mind staying indoors for a little bit, we spent the time catching up a bit with our writing as well as organizing ourselves for the next part of our journey. Later in the morning the sun peeked out and I ventured out to the village to get a few things. Beth stayed back at the B&B, I think both of us were pretty worn out by yesterday’s evening hike.

Truth be told I entered the most dangerous place on Iona during this morning outing - the Iona Community Book Store. I looked through all the initial titles that caught my eye the previous day, did some humming and hawing - and came away with a pile of books, many new resources for worship at Christ Lutheran back in Regina and especially for the Mysterium Worship Gatherings. Beth and I decided that perhaps we could ship these books home from Oxford, where I also expect to get a few more titles since that is the home to Blackwells, the greatest bookstore in the world according to my Oxford taught friends Dr. Harry Maier and Dr. Bryan Hillis.

After making my purchases I headed back to gather our luggage and head down to the dock to wait for the ferry. Our Bed and Breakfast host also happened to be the local (and only) taxi driver on Iona, and he graciously offered to take Beth and I (and our growing pile of luggage) down to the ferry (thank you Lindsay!) It was beginning to rain again while waiting for the ferry (which we were doing outside as there is no ferry terminal on Iona) but fortunately we got on board the ferry and under cover before it really started coming down.

We took the bus from Fionphort across the Isle of Mull to Craignure. On this bus trip we sat in the front seat and were amazed at how the driver negotiated the single lane road. There were little turn outs all along the road probably every 200 or 300 metres, and traffic would have to figure out who pulled over and who drove through… always with a wave to each other. It was all about courtesy and patience. You could tell who the tourists were, they didn’t smile and wave, just seemed frustrated at not being to get where they were wanting to go as quickly as they wanted.

At Craignure we switched buses to head to Tobermory - the total cost of the round trip for both Beth and I was the equivalent of 8 or 9 Canadian dollars - a real deal. The same type drive on a single lane road and after about an hour we arrived at our destination. Tobermory is a beautiful, colourful harbour town. It is the setting for a BBC children’s show and I can see why it was chosen, so pretty, quaint and colourful - we were even treated to a rainbow over the harbour to add to the picturesque quality of the setting. Now we just had to find a taxi to take us to Glengorm Castle.

An Evening Hike - Following the Sheep Trail

2009-06-17T16:49:00.002-06:00

On Sunday evening, after a short break to regroup, Beth and I went walking again, to the south part of Iona again. Since I had purchased a map earlier in the day we were able to take a short cut and get to the golf course faster. There we encountered another hiker who told us we were on the right path to Saint Columba’s Bay (which is where he was supposed to have initially landed when first arriving at Iona from Ireland).

After some hiking over hill and dale we made it to the beach. This was not a sandy beach, but rather one covered in large pebbles and stones. We found some more examples of cool rocks (we are bringing home a few samples as crazy as that sounds). I also recorded the very cool sound of the waves breaking on this stony beach.

From there we went looking for the marble quarry. A guide yesterday said it was a bit difficult to get to, but worth the effort, so we were putting in the effort. We didn’t find the path marked on the map so we ended up climbing over some difficult terrain, but eventually we found the abandoned marble quarry. The altar in the Abbey was made from marble taken from this quarry, and it was a beautiful work of art. It was hard to imagine such a beautiful item coming from such a place as the quarry, which seemed to be primarily chunks of rock of varying sizes, albeit differently coloured than all the other rock on the island. We found a small piece of marble with some green in it (similar to the green rocks we found earlier), so into my pocket it went, another unusual souvenir from Iona.

From the Marble Quarry we took what I thought was a trail back marked on the map, but in reality it turned out to be nothing more than a sheep trail. It‘s a good thing Iona isn’t that big, so we couldn’t get really lost. So up and down over the hilly terrain we went making our way back to the village. In some of the low spots we encountered the famous Scottish bogs - and first Beth, then myself got our shoes muddy and wet. Walking over such soft ground was a new experience for me, used to the dry hard ground of the prairies.

Eventually we spotted the road we needed to get back to our B&B - where we changed our shoes and pants and went to eat, both of us being famished by this point (about 9 PM). The restaurant (same one as yesterday) was nice enough to serve us, even though we were there right at closing time (for the restaurant part anyway, the bar part remained open later). The fish and chips we both had tasted mighty good after so much hiking around (and since we hadn’t eaten a proper meal since breakfast).

Beth fell fast asleep, even with the lights on (as I was working on the computer, trying to catch up with my notes taking and picture transferring.) After a short bit, I couldn’t keep my eyes opened, so I joined Beth in the land of Zees.

A Full Day on Iona and Staffa

2009-06-17T16:43:00.003-06:00

Sunday began with a large breakfast served by our host at the B&B. Eggs, bacon, ham, oat cakes, cereal, mushrooms, tomatoes, coffee and juice. Needless to say when we were done all that we were full!

Then it was off to the Abbey for the Sunday Morning Communion service. Unlike the service of the previous evening, this one was done well and was a joy to participate in. They really do a good job of welcoming and including all people in their worship services. The presiding minister that morning was an Scottish Episcopalian Priest and his leading of the Eucharist was very gracious and inviting, yet at the same time reverent. There were some new songs that were part of the service that I quite liked and so I knew I would need to check out the bookstore. Which is what I did following the service, but oh what a dangerous place that bookstore was… too many interesting titles. I did some initial checking but decided that I would have to come back the next day when I had more time to sort through which ones I wanted the most (I couldn’t get everything I was interested in because it would make my wallet too light, and our suitcases too heavy).

Early in the afternoon we boarded a boat heading to Staffa Island (a small island about 5 miles north of Iona). On the island we were able to see puffins up close, really close (though it took a little time for them to come in from the ocean where the flock was hanging out as a protection from the ravens and gulls). Once they started flying we discovered how fast those little birds are - they don’t look like they are built for speed, but it was hard to get a picture of them in flight! Eventually when they started landing near us we got some great close up shots of these colourful and interesting birds.

At the opposite end of the island to where the puffins were is the large cave called Fingal’s Cave. It is in this place that Mendelssohn got inspired to write a symphony. The geological formation of the island is partly what makes this cave a fascinating place to visit, patterns of hexagonal rocks form most of the island, like stepping stones around the perimeter. It is actually on those ‘stepping stones’ that we walked to get to, then into the cave. Once inside Fingal‘s Cave one is surrounded by the sound of the sea. There was even a deep booming sound made by the waves crashing into the cave. I made a recording in the cave (though much of it has other tourists talking, mostly about posing for pictures… I was getting a little irritated, but didn’t think I could say “Could I please have a minute of no talking so I can record these sounds”. The boat was soon leaving so I had to stop recording and head back to the docking point.

We’ve been told by many locals, including the folks on the boat, that we had exceptional weather for visiting Staffa. I can attest to that because I came back with a bit of a sunburn! The only thing that could have made the trip better was to have spotted a whale, which is what one of the tours the previous day did. But we did see the puffins, and that was what we were looking forward to. The day wasn’t even over and it already was packed with great sights, sounds and experiences.

Martyrs’ Bay Restaurant

2009-06-17T14:23:00.001-06:00

Eating establishments on Iona are few and far between. Dennis and I had been touring through the Abbey and various sites but we also wanted to walk across the island to see the spouting cave and possibly St. Columba’s Bay. It was about 6:00 so we were starting to think about supper also but neither of the hotels on the island serve dinner that early. The dinner hour is fairly short, too, so we had pretty much resigned ourselves to crackers in our room later on. We turned the corner from the ferry to start following the map and there right in front of us was the Martyrs’ Bay Restaurant and Lounge. (As an aside, Martyrs’ Bay is where hundreds of years ago those dastardly Vikings came ashore and slaughtered the Benedictine Monks).

Anyway, the restaurant appeared to be a fairly new establishment which is probably why it wasn’t included on the island map. We went in and asked the woman when they started serving dinner and she replied “Just now”. This was great timing so we decided to have supper before our walk. Dennis opted for a scallop dish and I thought I should try the local prawns. I was expecting some nice shrimp in garlic butter. What I got were some nice shrimp but still completely in their little bodies. I was very taken aback by the number of legs they have. I’m a little bit picky about eating and don’t really enjoy having to work around bones so I knew I was going to have trouble with this. I started by chopping off the tail and digging out the meat (it tasted very good). After a bit Dennis asked me if I was going to get enough to eat because I just couldn’t make myself dig into the torso and I had no idea how to get anything out of the claws. I was also a little unnerved by the eyes ; they seemed so reproachful. So the lesson for me (other than that sometimes you don’t get what you expect in life and you just have to deal with it) is that I should read the menu more carefully and analyze about the naming of the dish - Whole Local Prawns; after all, these are the people who invented haggis.

The reward for me (and Dennis) was to share an order of sticky toffee pudding with cream for dessert - that made it all worthwhile!

Arrival In Iona and an Unexpected Lesson

2009-06-17T14:02:00.003-06:00

Sleeping on the train was fine, if a bit crowded, before we knew it we were pulling into Glasgow. A steward came around with coffee (for Beth) and orange juice (for me) just before we arrived. Taking the Caledonian Sleeper was another unique experience on this pilgrimage of ours.

We needed to change train stations to catch the train to Oban, so a quick cab ride, and we were boarding another train (this time just sitting, no berths). It quickly became apparent that the Americans sitting close to us on this train were also travelling to Iona. As the train made its way through the Scottish countryside we were interested to see boats left to rust along the shorelines. Beth said it was like old farm equipment left in tractor graveyards on the prairies.

Next was a short ferry ride from Oban to Craignure, we didn’t pay attention to how short it was and I ended up wolfing down my food. From the ferries we loaded onto some buses (two full buses heading across the Island of Mull to catch the ferry to Iona - there were a lot of pilgrims that day.

Once on Iona, we walked up to our Bed & Breakfast, which was not too far from the ferry terminal, but required us to walk a short distance down a gravel road - no rolling our suitcases over that terrain! There was no one there when we arrived but we were greeted with a note left for us by the owner. We settled in and breathed a sigh of relief, we could finally take it easy after a long journey with many transfers. There were sheep all over the place, a very pastoral setting, we were certainly not in any city anymore.

Once we had caught our breath we went to look at the ruins of the ancient nunnery (literally a stone’s throw from our B&B). After that we went to the Abbey, which is not in ruins because George MacLean, a 20th century Scottish minister, set about restoring it and developing a new Christian community within it. At the Abbey we got a guided tour, which was helpful because there is so much history in that little place.

We were both getting hungry but had a hard time finding a restaurant that was open - there are only three on the island, and it was too late for Tea, and too early for Dinner at two of them. Fortunately for us the Martyrs’ Bay Restaurant was open - I had scallops, Beth had prawns (for more about this read the next post).

Following supper we headed off for a walk to the south part of the island, we got as far as the golf course (which had the most natural hazards of any course I‘ve seen as it was populated with sheep and cows), We saw the spouting cave off in the distance (spouting water of course), and we found some cool rocks on the beach (including ones with unique green colouring, like nothing I’ve ever seen before).

We made our way back to the centre of the Island because I wanted to attend the 9 PM Welcoming worship service at the Abbey (the Iona Faith Community runs its programs from Saturday to Saturday - that was why there were so many people heading to Iona on that particular day). The service was not as impressive or moving as I had hoped it would be… but there was a message for me in this service (reminding me that the Spirit moves in mysterious ways). The preacher, a young woman from the Iona Community, talked about expectations, and the dangers of letting our expectations govern us rather than accepting what is and learning to see God's presence in the moment. She even said the phrase “expectations about travel” in her message - I think that was directed exactly at me! So it wasn’t an amazing service, but it was an amazing service - part of the mystery of Iona... it isn’t exactly what you expect, but it is more than you expect.

Following the service we retired to our cozy little place and went to sleep quickly, a little food and wine, and a lot of fresh air helped. Tomorrow would be our only full day on Iona I wanted to be rested for whatever would come.

By Ourselves in London (sort of)

2009-06-17T02:50:00.002-06:00

Friday we slept in a bit since our tour with Globus was over and we didn’t have to follow their schedule - that was nice. At breakfast we ran into a number of folks from our group who were getting ready to fly back home that day - so we ended up saying a bunch of goodbyes. This was a good group to travel with, no one really got on our nerves or caused problems, and there were some new friendships struck up in these past 11 days.

Beth and I took advantage of our hotel’s location to walk to Baker Street (only a few blocks away) where we found the Sherlock Holmes Museum. The supposed address of the fictional detective was 221B Baker Street. There actually never existed such an address, but in a building closest to that address a museum was developed. They had most of the rooms set up like they would have been in Sherlock Holmes day - with lots of antiques to set the mood. If was fun walking up and down the creaking staircase and seeing all the paraphernalia from a century and a half ago. Probably the most amusing part was a display of actual letters written to Sherlock Holmes by people wanting help to locate a missing wallet and such (my favourite letter started “Dear Mr. Holmes, I am writing to you, which is stupid because I know you do not exist, but I have to because my teacher is making me…)

After this Beth and I walked to Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, which is a huge green space in the heart of London. Beth informed me that this was where in the past all the rich folks went to see and be seen. It is a lovely space and gave us a sense of breathing room after being in crowds so much of the time. We saw all kinds of birds by the (man-made) lake, including a swan with her fuzzy cygnets. After wandering around this huge park for a couple of hours who did we bump into but Chris and Rich from our Globus group! That was an amusing coincidence for all of us.

In Kensington Gardens we saw the statue of Peter Pan, put there in secret one night by J.M. Barrie, the author of the book. J.M. Barrie’s residence was right on the edge of the park, close to where he placed the statue. There were all kinds of things to see as we wandered around, but we just enjoyed having some time with no agenda. Eventually we walked back to the Hotel where who should we meet again but Chris and Rich! We all decided to go to a British Pub for Fish and Chips. I had a Pear Ale for the first time, which I thought was quite nice. Of all the people on our tour we got to know Chris and Rich the most, and have really enjoyed their friendship. He is a retired Science teacher, and she is a Speech Pathologist from Upper New York State. We had an enjoyable meal together then headed back to the hotel where we said farewell (again). Beth and I collected our luggage and made our way to the train station in order to catch the Caledonian Sleeper - an overnight train to Glasgow.

We got to the station quite early, and ended up having to wait over 3 hours before we could board. During that time I searched desperately for an internet connection so I could post for the Mysterium gathering back in Regina - I finally found one outside the station and the message was sent and I could relax.

We boarded the train shortly before midnight where we were shown to our berth, our really small berth - but our staying in European Hotel rooms helped prepare us for sleeping in small quarters. After the train departed Beth and I went up to the lounge car for a glass of wine, then quickly retired to bed - which after such a lot of exercise (over 24000 steps on Beth’s pedometer) we fell asleep quickly to the gentle rocking of the train.

Changing of the Guide/Guard and other things in London

2009-06-15T05:28:00.003-06:00

As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, in London we said goodbye to Elzo our tour guide by this point, on Thursday morning we were greeted at the bus by a cheerful British lady, Andrea, who was our London tour guide. She was great as well, a very knowledgeable and experienced guide, with a quick wit she was entertaining as well as informative, and she had the craziest umbrella to indicate her presence to the group.

Driving around London in the tour bus was tricky because of the Tube strike, however we still managed to see all the highlights (though most of them only from the bus). We saw places I recognized from literature and news reports, saw statues of people familiar from history lessons, and it all went by so fast that it made my head swim. Of course we saw plenty of stuff related to the Royal family, but my favourite was the shop that was the Royal ‘Lamp Shade Shop’.

We finally got to stop and get off the bus at Saint Paul’s Cathedral. We were fortunate to arrive before any other groups that morning, which was nice because the church was not crowded with people milling about. I had a better sense of spiritual connection with Saint Paul’s Cathedral than any of the other large churches visited on this trip, perhaps because it wasn’t as filled with tourists, and perhaps because it was less ornate on the inside - the actual structure seemed to suggest that what happened in the building was more important than the building itself.

I made a special effort to seek out the painting The Light of the World by Holman Hunt. This famous painting portrays Jesus standing at a closed door with a lamp in his one hand and the other hand is knocking on the door. It was larger, and more colourful than I had expected. I could have stayed and admired it for quite a while, searching out the meaning and symbolism in the painting, but we had limited time in the Cathedral, so instead I bought a small poster of the painting (with a history of explanation of the artwork on the back).

There were many famous landmarks we saw, things like Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and 10 Downing Street - but we even saw some famous people: at one point traffic was being held up the police and our guide said this meant someone famous or powerful would be coming along, and sure enough along came a motorcade with Michelle Obama and her girls in one of the cars. I had read in the paper the previous evening that Michelle Obama and her daughters were in London (they had taken in a performance of The Lion King according to the news report) so it was a bit of a thrill to see them in person (sort of). Apparently President Obama was off doing presidential things somewhere else, but Michelle and the girls stayed behind in Europe for a bit of a holiday.

The morning tour ended with the changing of the guard ceremony at Buckingham Palace. The bus driver, Jimmy, had obtained a special permit which allowed him to drive the bus down the lane leading to Buckingham Palace (which apparently is a rarity) thus we saw the changing of the guards from two vantage points, the bus itself (which enabled us to see over the crowds) and the sidewalk in the ideal location thanks to our London guide (which enabled us to hear the band and take great pictures). Once the pomp and ceremony was over it was back on the bus, and back to the hotel.

There were so many things we saw that morning that I couldn’t begin to list them all, but let me end this post with a couple of favourites. We drove by one church that had a pulpit built into the wall on the outside of the building. This was done because at one time that church was so popular that it always had overflow crowds who stood outside the church during the service - so this outside pulpit was built so that the crowds on the sidewalk could hear a sermon as well (imagine that!) Another place of interest was the hospital where penicillin was discovered (and Princes William and Harry were born). And finally there was Baker Street, the address of the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes (though his address in the books, 221B Baker Street never actually existed) the 200 block of Baker Street has become a site sought out by fans of Conan Doyles’ famous creation (but more on that in another post).

First Impressions of London

2009-06-15T05:18:00.004-06:00

We had been warned before arriving in London that there was an Underground (Tube) strike. Since 3 to 4 million people take the Tube everyday, getting around was going to be problematic. We arrived at the Hotel, the biggest one we’ve stayed in yet (though the rooms were still small). There we said goodbye to our Tour Guide Elzo, who had really been an informative and pleasant guide. He was heading home to the Netherlands for a few days to prepare to leading a tour to Russia and China (including Mongolia)!

Beth and I settled in a little then decided we would walk to St. Martin’s Theatre for the evening performance of The Mousetrap. Walking down the street was an adventure in and of itself since the sidewalks were packed full of people due to the Underground strike. And what diversity of people, on the streets we walked down I think we heard more non-English languages being spoken than English. We saw many shops and restaurants for people from the Middle East, many signs had Arabic writing on them, and many of the eating establishments also had hookahs out front (quite often being smoked by all ages of Arabic looking men (though I did see a couple of Caucasian young women smoking a hookah at one place). This was certainly not the London of Mary Poppins!

It took a long time to walk the 15 or 20 blocks to the Soho area of London (where all the West End Theatres are), simply because the streets were so full. Once we got to the right area, and located St. Martin’s Theatre, we picked up our tickets and still had over an hour before the doors opened. We found a little restaurant in the area called The Stock Pot. Here Beth was able to have a Liver & Bacon special - I had a taste (it was pretty good, but it was still liver). Beth enjoyed this because she doesn’t get to have liver at home since the kids all dislike it, and normally it is not to my liking either. I simply had a chicken and mushroom dish, which was nice, if not adventurous.

Back to the Theatre, where we took our seats. First thing I noticed was that the theatre was smaller than I expected. We were in the front row of the first balcony, excellent seats - where we could see everything very well, and yet were pretty close to the actors as well (we could easily see all subtle face expressions). However, just like La Scala in Milan, my knees pressed up against the balcony - obviously built for smaller people with shorter legs!

The theatre lights dimmed, some music that sounded like it was recorded 50 years ago played an opening fanfare based on Three Blind Mice, a female voice screamed in the dark… the play had begun. Before I knew it the intermission was taking place (during which a safety curtain came down in front of the main curtain - which neither Beth nor I could figure its purpose - we knew that it was a ‘safety curtain‘ because those words were painted on it in really large script letters). Beth and I chatted about who we thought were the best suspects (this is a play written by Agatha Christie, thus a murder mystery of course). Then the second act began. When it finished neither Beth nor I were right, but one of the actors told us during the cast call to “keep the secret of whodunit locked in your hearts” so we can’t tell you who it was!

This play is the longest continuously running theatre show any where in the world - currently in its 56th year! There was a sign in the theatre lobby that noted which number of show it was - I don’t remember the exact number but it was over 50,000. I think it is such a classic that it has influenced many other movies, books and even games since it opened. I don’t know for sure, but I wondered if one of my childhood favourite board games, Clue, was influenced by this play. For sure it was influenced by Agatha Christie books.

Over all it was a most enjoyable production, with great acting, interesting plot twists, and a superb setting. There were some humorous bits, and some dramatic moments, and it kept us guessing to the very end. No wonder it has played so long.

Getting back to the hotel was an adventure as well. We kept trying to hail a cab (at the corner the theatre usher suggested) but every cab that drove by was already taken. We had been standing in this spot for 15 minutes when some other members of our tour group happened to walk by. We decided to combine forces to try an hail a cab. Still no luck, finally we started walking back to the hotel. At one point we came across a phone booth, and I tried to call a cab that way - after some frustration trying to use coins to make the call (ending up using a credit card!) I was further thwarted by the cab companies having a automated recording saying “Due to the Tube strike we are experiencing high call volume, please call later.” So we kept walking. Eventually, purely by luck we came across a cab that was available, and we were able to make it back to the hotel before midnight. I wasn’t too happy about the Underground Union that day.

The Mystery of Travel

2009-06-12T14:22:00.001-06:00

As I write this special entry for the folks gathering at Mysterium tonight, Beth and I are sitting in a London train station waiting for our overnight train to Glasgow, Scotland (and eventually Iona). I’ve been thinking about our experiences these past 12 days and what I could say about them that would be meaningful for a Mysterium gathering. I would like to share what I have learned on this travel adventure so far.

First I have learned that people are different from place to place, and to really experience this you need to encounter people in their normal surroundings. The people of Rome were different from the people of Lucerne, who were different from the people of Paris, and the people of London. Yet in spite of cultural differences, different languages and accents, different dressing customs, different foods and drinks, I also learned that people are the same wherever we’ve gone.

Our tour group had people from Australia, New Zealand and all across the United States, yet we had more in common than we had differences. As we interacted with the people in Italy, Switzerland, France and England, we were always able to find a commonality. In the larger cities the whole world was represented with immigrant populations from Africa, the Middle East and Asia, yet there too I was reminded that people are people and we have more in common than we have differences. I have watched parents interacting with their children, and it was easy to understand what was happening, in spite of language barriers. I have had strangers trying to help us when they recognized a look of uncertainty and frustration on our faces, in the same way I would attempt to help someone else. Travel has shown me something I have said for a long time, we live in a global village.

Specifically this trip, the travelling we are doing at this moment, has opened my understanding about how the Christian faith has decreased in Europe, once a stronghold of Christianity. Simply put, the Christianity of large lavish cathedrals, while perhaps inspiring in one way, also distracted people from some of Jesus’ central teachings - and when the church was less and less connected with political power the people over here, who experienced the hypocrisy first hand, simply disregarded that which didn’t make much sense to them, especially when there was no political or social price to pay. Too many wars fought in the name of Christ, too many wars fought by those who claimed the name Christian, too many lavish buildings while the masses starved, too much church and empire. The Kingdom of God was lost in the shadows of Christendom.

Yet at the same time I also see signs of hope, the spark of faith still alive. I cannot even come up with specific examples, but somehow I sense it in land of deep history. Being here is a reminder that today is not everything, that the important things are measured in decades and centuries, not in instant gratification. God is in the big picture, as well as in the details.

Lastly travel has shown me the beauty of an incredible creation, with diversity in landscape, climate, animals and more. Every day we have seen things that would not have been possible had we not travelled. There is beauty everywhere, though it is different aspects that reveal the beauty of a specific place. There is so much to see in the world and I am reminded how big the world really is, even though in the universe it is really small.

The Mystery of Travel is this… that it reveals new mysteries, more to learn, more to discover, more to wonder at, more to be in awe of. I wish we had more time to discover the fullness of each place we’ve visited so far… we have seen so much, and yet we have seen so little… such is the Mystery of Travel.

Posts to be more Sporadic

2009-06-12T03:34:00.002-06:00

Greetings to all our faithful readers. We are currently in London, and about to head out for another day of sightseeing. Up till now I have been using the travel time on the bus to write up my blog entries, but that daily routine is gone now that our Group Tour with Globus is over. Thus I'm not sure how often we will be able to find time to write further about our journey, and because we are staying in Bed & Breakfast places most of the time from here on, how often we will have internet access in order to be able to post.

We have been making notes, and intend to flesh them out into full postings when the opportunity arises, but if you don't see any new postings for a few days, this would be the reason. In general let me say that the group tour was great, and we saw lots of things, but we are ready to set off on our own, with our own agenda and schedule.

Notre Dame, Quiche and Crepes

2009-06-12T03:20:00.005-06:00

We are currently zipping along the France countryside, and I meaning zipping! This Eurostar train from Paris to London is faster than the Rome to Milan train (which I thought was pretty fast), but it’s not as smooth as the Italian train. Let me return to yesterday and our final evening in Paris.

Rather than join the group in the optional evening excursion to the Moulin Rouge, Beth and I chose to do some more sightseeing of Paris on our own. We took the Metro (the Paris subway) from right outside our hotel to a stop just by Notre Dame Cathedral. After heading in the wrong direction (because I thought I spotted the cathedral, but actually it was another church - this time Beth was right about which direction to go!) we made it to that most famous Paris churches, courtesy of Quasimodo. Earlier in the day I learned that it was Victor Hugo’s novel “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” that saved the Cathedral from falling into disrepair. Apparently the Parisians in the 18th and early 19th centuries didn’t like the building because it was built in the Gothic style, and thus looked too old, or unfashionable. I guess the Parisians have been concerned about fashion and looking good for a long time. After Victor Hugo’s novel came out, people flocked to Notre Dame to see the hunchback, or find Esmeralda. Then the Parisians decided it would be a worthwhile venture to restore the cathedral and keep it in good repair.

There was no line, and no fee, so Beth and I were able to walk right in. Right away I heard singing throughout the Cathedral. I thought perhaps they were rehearsing for the music concert that was being held there later that evening, but after a few moments I realized that a worship service was taking place. The middle section of the cathedral was roped off, and people could not enter there unless they were intending to go to Mass. Meanwhile all around the perimeter of the cathedral people were walking, talking, taking pictures and so forth (in spite of the signs in multiple languages requesting silence).

Beth and I walked slowly around the perimeter as well, and even stopped to light a candle and put it in one of the many prayer stations around the cathedral. Up near the altar we could smell the incense and watch the priest presiding. I never saw where the cantor was, but it was a woman with a pretty voice.

The whole scenario was surreal, people posing for pictures by some element inside the cathedral while a few metres away Mass was taking place… each seemingly oblivious to the other. Beth thought that those who worshipped there regularly were probably used to it, but I couldn’t imagine trying to preside at a worship service in such conditions. It was a bonus being able to hear the organ play (as well as the woman canting) as we walked about the inside of the cathedral. I ended up purchasing a CD there (one of Bach played on the organ of Notre Dame)… my first CD purchase over here (I’m a little surprised it has taken so long for that to happen).

Once outside we walked down a street near by to find something to eat. I thought quiche in Paris sounded good, Beth was looking for crepes. We found a little sidewalk café/bar that had both items on the menu. Beth started with salad that (to my eyes) was huge. It had lettuce, green beans, corn, goat cheese, tomatoes, and probably other stuff as well. My quiche came with salad and fries (or frites as they are called over here). Both dishes were great, but very filling, so we had no room for crepes when we were finished!

We did a little more walking around, souvenir hunting, and eventually found a place that made crepes right beside Notre Dame. Beth had a Nutella and Banana crepe, I had a Lemon and Sugar one. Were they ever great! I managed to get a recording of the bells of Notre Dame as we enjoyed our crepes, then it was back to the Metro and the hotel. On our way, walking over a bridge spanning the River Seine, we spotted a film crew setting up cameras and lights for some kind of shot. We didn’t stick around long enough to see if we recognized anyone, but maybe one day I will be watching a film and say “Hey, we were there, we saw that film crew.”

The Metro in Paris was easy to use, once we figured it out, and quite reasonably priced - less than $2 Canadian for each of us. We made our way back to our hotel with no trouble, and quite quickly. Apparently the London Tube (subway) workers just went on strike today, so getting around in London might be a bit more challenging. We’ll find out soon enough, for our train has already been through the Chunnel and we are now approaching London. This really is a cool train ride to be on.

Versailles? C’est Incroyable!

2009-06-12T03:16:00.005-06:00

We saw the word “incroyable” used a fair amount in Paris - usually used to describe the price of t-shirts in discount souvenir shops. I think it’s a great descriptor for the opulence of Versailles. From the moment the bus drove up to the courtyard, I was astonished by the amount of gold. It’s probably a good thing that it was a cloudy day, otherwise the gates alone would have been almost too dazzling. Versailles truly is an incredible work of art, containing many works of art (loved the Ming vase). It’s hard to imagine the egotism involved in building such a monument - needing to leave your mark on the world, to the point of having the Sun King image in gold on all the connecting doors, etc. However, we’ve certainly seen that in some of the churches as well, with more almost homage being paid to saints and popes than to God.

We also had an excellent guide who filled us in on lots of details of palace life. What a fish bowl existence they lived! There was very little privacy in their situation, hence all the secret doors built in to their bedrooms and the hall of mirrors and many other places, I’m sure. I was also awed by the artwork on the ceilings, again all the gilding and the paintings. We saw some fine examples of trompe l’oeil. I find it fascinating that you can paint something and make it appear to be three dimensional.

The disappointing thing for me was the weather that day. As we were heading out to look at the extensive gardens, it started to rain - not just rain but really pour. We huddled in the corner of the building under our umbrella until it seemed to let up somewhat and then we ventured out. Dennis gave me the umbrella and went off to get soaked taking his pictures. The gardens and fountains were magnificent and I could have spent a lot more time there (if we had more time and if it wasn’t raining).

Overall, it was a fascinating experience but I came away being more sympathetic to the people of France and the circumstances surrounding the Revolution. It must have been like a ‘poke in the eye’ to be starving, unable to feed your family, and to see the Royal family living in such opulence.

Up the Eiffel Tower and All Around the Town

2009-06-11T05:17:00.003-06:00

Here we are sitting on the Eurostar High Speed Train in the Paris station, waiting to head to London via the Chunnel. I am taking this opportunity to catch up in my writing for yesterday’s adventures.

Another early start to the day, which was primarily due to the reservation our group had to go up the Eiffel Tower (which was a good thing when we saw the line up at the base of the Tower - I bet it took some those people a couple hours to get up the tower). We had a little Parisian woman as a local guide, and ironically she said many of the same things Elzo said the evening before, and we saw many of the same buildings and monuments, but things looked different in the morning light and there was so much to take in it wasn’t a bad thing at all to have some repetition.

The most somber part of the tour was driving through the tunnel where Princess Diana was killed in the car accident 13 years ago. Both Elzo and the Parisian guide pointed this place out. It was the Parisian guide who noted that the car crashed into the 13th pillar in the tunnel, and Elzo noted that the tunnel was simple and straight and hard to imagine what could have caused the crash - especially the way people drive in Paris. The driving here is as crazy as Rome, and around the Arc de Triomphe, where 12 Avenues converge, its amazing that people get in and out of that huge traffic circle in one piece. Yet with all the crazy driving, the Europeans seem to manage just fine - and I never saw any evidence of vehicle accidents anywhere. We were glad for our bus driver Massimo who navigated his way around these cities without getting flustered, or losing his cool - he always seemed in complete control. We were sad to say “au revoir” to him today as he is not coming with us to London (there we will have a local driver for the remainder of the tour).

Paris is a beautiful city, with lots of incredible monuments, buildings and bridges. This one bridge, recently restored, was stunning with its angels at each corner gilded with gold leaf. There was also a new museum that had living walls, plants were literally growing out of the walls - very interesting. Paris has 109 museums, including the largest in the world, the Louvre. We saw the Louvre from the outside, but it would take days to go through the museum which has 6 kilometres of hallways, and that’s just on one level! You could tell that it is near the end of the school year because each of these places had groups of school children on field trips… imagine going to the Louvre, Versailles, or the Eiffel Tower as a school outing!

I thought we were going to be in trouble for going up the Eiffel Tower because the forecast was for rain. However the morning started sunny, and even though the clouds built up during the morning there was no actual rain while we were up the tower. Our group only went to the second level (due to time constraints) but actually that was just fine, we got a great view of Paris from that level - taking many pictures of course. It was a little windy and cold up there, but otherwise a positive outing. Can you believe that the Parisians did not like the Eiffel Tower at first, and wanted it dismantled. World War I saved the structure as it became useful as a radio tower. Now it is hard to imagine Paris without this iron masterpiece.

Following the Eiffel Tower we were brought to the Opera House and directed to Galleries LaFayette, a large department store, which had a cafeteria on the top floor which we could get lunch at. Beth and I went up to the top floor, grabbed some croissants and quiche and looked out at the Eiffel Tower in the distance which was now surrounded by a rain storm (we got down just in time). In some ways the Galleries LaFayette reminded me of the Bay department store in Calgary when I was young - which also had a cafeteria on the top floor, only this Paris store was much larger, much more upscale, and had very different items in its cafeteria.

After lunch we looked at the outside of the Opera House (or the Académie Nationale de Musique) - another majestic building with incredible ornamentation. Then we boarded the bus for Versailles, but that’s another post.

A French Meal and a Sparkling Tower

2009-06-09T14:57:00.004-06:00

Monday was mostly a long driving day as we made our way from Lucerne, Switzerland to Paris, France. For the most part of this trip the scenery changed very little, and thus (truth be told) Beth and I both nodded off a number of times (it had been an early morning!) A couple of stops at the European equivalent of the Husky Truck stop and finally we arrived at Paris. We were entering the city around 5 PM, and we got a good taste of the gridlock that Paris experiences often. It took a long time to make our way into the heart of the city where our hotel was located, but eventually we made it safe and sound. Once we checked into our rooms and had a few moments to get settled, the tour group headed out for supper, we had been promised a true French meal.

The restaurant was a quaint little place called the Le Montebello, it was just across the river from Notre Dame Cathedral in the very heart of Paris. It was a true multi-course meal (though not nearly as fancy as the one in Babette’s Feast). There were some in our group who had the snails for the appetiser, but I wasn’t that brave and stuck with the French Onion soup, which was pretty safe, and pretty tasty. The best part of the meal for me was the mashed carrots that came with the main entrée, that was the biggest surprise and I really loved how it tasted.

You could tell that our tour group was getting more familiar with each other because the conversation got very loud during the meal. One of the biggest topics of amusement was going to the bathroom, which required going up a very tight spiral staircase - some people almost got stuck. The meal and the setting was a great introduction to what the city of Paris had to offer - lots of flavour and character.

After the meal our tour guide Elzo took us on a quick drive through the city centre, pointing out all the various monuments and buildings as we made our way through the City of Lights. At one point the bus stopped and Elzo told us to hurry off the bus because we were going to see something that only happens for 5 minutes a night, the Eiffel Tower sparkles. No sooner had he spoken when lights began flashing on and off all over the Eiffel Tower - it really did look like it was sparkling against the darkening evening sky! Then just as suddenly as it began, it was over. We loaded back on the bus and made our way back to the hotel…our appetites for Paris had been whetted and tomorrow would be a full day.

More Wandering the Streets of Lucerne

2009-06-08T15:27:00.002-06:00

After another simple lunch (more of the bread, cheese and salami from yesterday) Beth and I headed out for more wandering about Lucerne. This was a pretty low-key afternoon, but a welcomed change of pace. Beth got a coffee at a Starbucks, and was glad to discover it didn’t really cost much more than in Canada. She also commented that after drinking espresso for a week the Starbucks coffee didn’t seem strong at all. We also enjoyed another round of gelato cones (mined was a most flavourful raspberry, combined with chocolate of course… after all we were in Switzerland).

I was hoping to record the bells of the Cathedral ring at 6 PM, so we made our way over to the church on our way back to the hotel. We took a peek inside the cathedral because folks from our tour group said it was beautiful inside - and that it was, but we couldn’t do much looking around as there appeared to be a service going on. We moved outside and waited for the service to conclude (so the bells would ring) 10 minutes went by and still no bells, so I sent Beth back into the church to see if the service looked like it was near the end. Next thing I knew Beth was waving at me to come in. When I got to the door she whispered that she didn’t think the service was close to being finished but that the choir was singing and they were pretty good.

It only took a few moments of listening to realize how right Beth was, so I whipped out the recorder and stood at the back of the church, just inside the narthex, and listened to (and recorded) the choir. There was a small brass ensemble with the choir, and the music was deeply moving as it reverberated in that scared space. Towards the end of the piece I closed my eyes and just soaked in the sound. This was the first spiritual moment I had personally experienced in one of these European cathedrals, and it was deeply satisfying. I was grateful. After the choral selection the Priest said some things in German, which led to the whole congregation standing and singing with the choir “Now Thank We All Our God” (in German of course). After an inspiring morning on Mount Pilatus, and listening to a moving choral work, I thought it an apt Benediction.

It turns out it wasn’t a normal service, it was some kind of concert with a special recognition for the choir (this much we were able to figure out without knowing the language). We couldn’t stay to the very end of the service/concert because we had to get back to have supper with the tour group. It was a short, but meaningful, moment in our time in Lucerne.

Supper was fish, lightly breaded and very enjoyable. More interesting conversation with members of the tour group. It was here that I found out that Mr. Stump, who was on this trip with his wife and two of their grandchildren, came from a long line of Lutheran pastors. He told us that his grandfather wrote the old blue catechism book (which I took to mean either translated or edited). This was the same Small Catechism that I used as a confirmand many years ago! Also sitting at our table was Mr. Singh and his wife. He was a retired University Professor from North Carolina, but who attended the University of Alberta, my old Alma Matter (it really is a small world). Today I discovered that Ricardo from our group is a corrections officer at Folsom Prison, the same facility made famous by Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues." So not only are we seeing interesting places, we’re meeting interesting people.

Mount Pilatus - Yes Dr. Friesen, It Was Great

2009-06-08T15:10:00.002-06:00

Finally we got to sleep in a bit, and we didn’t have to have our luggage ready to go for the porters, so it was a more relaxed start to the day. First on the agenda was breakfast in the hotel restaurant on the top floor of the hotel (with a bird’s eye view of the roof tops of Lucerne and the surrounding mountains). Then we boarded a new bus (European bus drivers by law can only work 6 days in a row, which meant Massimo had a day off, and so did his bus). Off we went the short distance to Mount Pilatus. This was something both Beth and I had been anticipating because our Dentist, Dr. Blaine Friesen told both of us about it with great enthusiasm when we had had dental work done shortly before leaving on our trip. I was worried about this excursion being a bust because the evening before I had checked the weather forecast which said cloudy and rainy - but the morning had blue sky and sunshine so things were looking hopeful.
Our group went up the mountain on a cogwheel train, the steepest incline tackled by any cogwheel train in the world - 49 degrees in places! A cogwheel train has a third track in the middle of the two normal rails. This middle track is what the gears or cogs of the engine pull the train up with. It was a 40 minute ride to the top, with great views of the mountain scenery and some vertigo inducing moments as the track passed next to a cliff. The cogwheel train was an experience in and of itself that was worthwhile, but then we got to the top and could view the panorama of mountain ranges and alpine meadows from the peak of Mount Pilatus - magnificent! Thank you Dr. Friesen for your encouragement to do this excursion, absolutely worth every cent.

By this point some clouds had moved in, but they moved around enough that during the course of our time up on the summit we had plenty of chances to see the whole panorama. Occasionally the clouds would envelop us completely, but this never lasted more than a few minutes. For the most part it was a beautiful, if a bit chilly, morning.

Beth and I climbed to the two different peaks, enjoying the different scenery available from each vantage point (after catching our breath!) There was also a path that partially circled the summit, which often was right on the edge of the mountain, though also had some tunnels to go through. It was here that I discovered the only thing I was disappointed with the whole morning. While standing on this path, looking down at a church built on the mountain a few hundred metres below us I heard cowbells, lots of cowbells. The disappointment is that I didn’t have my mini-recorder with. This was one of the few occasions on this trip that I didn’t have the Pocketrak with me. I remember thinking “There will be nothing to record up there, I might as well leave it in the safe in our room.” Well not only did I miss recording the sound of cowbells floating up from the valley below, but then shortly afterwards we heard the sound of an alpenhorn being played!

Up near the top of Mount Pilatus is a hotel, and out from the hotel came a fellow dressed in a traditional Swiss outfit and playing an alpenhorn (beautifully I might add). The sound of the alpenhorn echoing off the mountain sides was so amazing that I had to kick myself a second time for not having the recorder with me! The summit of Mount Pilatus is shaped a bit like a partial bowl, so the sound resonated wonderfully in that space. We will just have to remember those unique sounds, make them part of our memories of that day. (Ever since then I have made sure to have the recorder with me at all times - and it paid off later in the day).

Mount Pilatus was named for Pontius Pilate, the man who condemned Jesus to death. According to ancient legend the body of Pilate was buried beneath the mountain. Pilate ended up under the mountain because he was killed in Rome, his body thrown in the river, and this caused major flooding and diasters where the body was carried by the river's current. So Pilate’s body was taken to a sparsely populated area and buried under a mountain so it could do little damage any more. Because of this legend up until few hundred years ago people were forbidden to climb on the mountain for fear of disturbing Pilate’s spirit (which would result in tragic consequences). It was finally a group of monks who defied this ban and climbed the mountain, consequently showing that this legend had no basis in reality. Ever since then the mountain has been enjoyed by many, many people - including us.

When our time on the summit was up we took a gondola back down the mountain (on the opposite side of the mountain that we came up with the cogwheel train). Actually it was two gondolas, first of all a large one that could hold 40 people - most of this first leg of the journey back down the mountain was shrouded by cloud (which might have been a good thing for those uncomfortable with heights, the few times we got a glimpse of the ground it was a long way down). The second part of the trip down the mountain was in smaller cable cars, 4 to a gondola - the only thing that would have made this better was if we could have opened some windows to take pictures, but overall was a lovely and smooth ride down the slopes.

We ended up back in a village right next to the city of Lucerne (the final part of the cable run went over people’s homes, which must feel a bit uncomfortable for the folks living there). We boarded the bus, drove back into Lucerne and thus was the end of an inspiring morning.

An Evening in Lucerne

2009-06-08T15:06:00.002-06:00

Lucerne is a pretty city, located in a valley surrounded by mountains and on the shore of Lake Lucerne (Vierwaldstättersee). During the industrial revolution, when England was developing a Middle Class, and people began to have money for more than the essentials, Lucerne became a favourite vacation destination for the British. Evidence of this can still be seen in some of the names of the hotels and restaurants in the city which use names from Charles Dickens books or other typically English phrases and names. We could see why people would be attracted to this place, a very beautiful setting somewhat secluded from the hustle and bustle of the world. Even though there were lots of tourists in Lucerne (as there were in Venice) it had a much different feel about it. A more calm atmosphere with people strolling about leisurely, feeding the swans, browsing in the stores (where you could find an incredible assortment of Swiss Army knives and Rolex, Tissot, Omega and other watches).

Beth and I opted not to go with the tour group, which had an evening of supper and Swiss culture, partly because this optional event was quite pricey, but more because we just needed some quiet time away from the group. So we wandered about the city centre, taking pictures, admiring the buildings and the mountains, and browsing in the shops. For supper we decided to eat some cheese and salami we had picked up at our last stop in Italy. We needed some bread and something to drink so we found a supermarket, it was named COOP and I don’t know if that is like our Co-op stores back home or not. We picked up some buns, nectarines and wine (which was cheaper than soft drinks!) and headed back to our hotel room. There we had a simple little meal, just the two of us, it was a nice change. Following supper we enjoyed a little more wandering around Lucerne then we called it a night after a long day.

The Saint Gotthard Pass and Saint Bernhards

2009-06-07T14:51:00.003-06:00

Shortly after our drive through the regions of many waterfalls we arrived at a high mountain pass known in English as the Saint Gotthard Pass (in Italian it’s the Passo del San Gottardo). This pass connects the Italian speaking part of Switzerland with the German speaking part (including Lucerne). There is an 17 kilometre tunnel that goes under this pass, and is the way most of traffic gets through the pass these days. As we got closer to the tunnel entrance we could see a huge traffic jam (they only let a certain amount of vehicles go through the tunnel at a time). There is also a road that goes over the pass, but it is only open 4 months of the year. We happened to be here within that time frame and our guide elected to go over the pass, hoping the rain would not turn to snow.

Up we went with the big bus, I was watching the temperature drop outside (the bus had an outside temperature display). It got as low as 8 degrees, but fortunately no lower. We stopped at the summit for a brief break, and we were able to get some pictures. By that point the rain had stopped, and other than being a little cold, it was awesome being up there. The Swiss Alps are spectacular mountains, every bit as breath-taking as the Canadian Rockies. For me the most interesting thing about these mountains is how much they are covered with green, and not coniferous trees either, rather grasses and shrubbery that goes way up the sides of these mountains.

The road over the pass was fairly narrow, filled with curves, and at one point the road literally was hanging in space as the Swiss engineers had built a curve jutting out from the actual mountain. The roads through the Rockies can be pretty nerve-wracking to drive, this mountain pass road was worse than any road I can remember in the Rockies. But Massimo is a great driver, and no one felt too uncomfortable or worried as we made our way around this crazy road.
Going through the pass we drove by a monastery and a connected hospice, and at that point Elzo our guide told us that for many centuries the various mountains passes in this region had hospices for travellers run by local monks. The monks running a hospice in one of these passes, the Saint Bernard Pass, bred a dog (originally from Mongolia) to assist them in caring for the travellers - this of course in the Saint Bernhard. These dogs were bred large enough to move about in deep snow, and with a keen sense of smell to find lost travellers.

We didn’t get lost, and we made it up the mountain and down again without incident. It was a thrilling drive, and I kept marvelling at the people who used this pass in centuries gone by, without the advantage to modern road construction to make things a bit more passable. Once safely at the bottom of the pass we met up with the main highway again, and continued on our way to Lucerne (Luzern in German).

Drive of a Thousand Waterfalls

2009-06-07T13:56:00.002-06:00

Yesterday morning we got up early (again) and were on the road at 7:45 AM. This was important because it was a long driving day. First we made our way through northern Italy ending up at Como, a picturesque city in the foothills of the Italian Alps. It also happened to be the home of our bus driver Massimo. Situated on the shores of Lake Como it is a favourite resort spot for many people, and celebrities like George Clooney have a house there. For history buffs (this is for you Thomas) it is the place where Mussolini was assassinated (while trying to escape to Switzerland which the city borders) at the end of World War II.

For us it was an adventure taking back roads as Massimo found a way around a traffic jam (at the border crossing). It is amazing how he can manoeuvre that big bus around such narrow streets. Then through the border without being checked, something that is not required since the formation of the E.U. Now we were in Switzerland.

The Swiss have four official languages and the first stop we had was in the resort town of Lugano. The prominent language spoken here was Italian, and the favourite food was Italian, so in many ways it felt like we were still in Italy. It had begun to rain, so our stop here was primarily for a lunch and washroom break, with little time for sightseeing (even though it was a beautiful setting). We found a restaurant busy with people and as we were deciding about whether or not we wanted to eat there or elsewhere a friendly and efficient waiter cleared a table for us and offered us a seat. So we sat, and ordered pizza, a four cheese pizza which was very different from pizzas back home, both in shape, type of crust and flavour. We even poured a little spiced olive oil on the pizza (something the Italians do regularly) and it was all good.

At one point the storm moving in created some strong gusty winds and suddenly the awning on the restaurant (which was covering 20 to 30 people) started lifting, blowing around and dumping water on the folks beneath it. Lots of yelling ensued and all the waiters ran over to grab the awning to weigh it down. Within 5 minutes the wind subsided and all went back to normal - a little excitement and entertainment during lunch!

Back on the highway and the rain really started coming down - but there was a side benefit for this… the rain, combined with the melting snow on the mountain tops created many, many waterfalls. One waterfall was shooting out water vertically, and our tour guide Elzo said he had never seen that waterfall look like that before. There were little waterfalls, and large waterfalls everywhere you looked for at least an hour along this stretch of the highway leading to Lucerne. The waterfalls were simply breathtaking. We tried taking pictures through the bus window, but they were blurry and disappointing. I wanted the bus to stop so we could walk right up to one of these intricate or powerful displays of living water, but of course that was impossible. So we simply had to enjoy this display of nature’s grandeur from the confines of the bus. It made the trip, on a grey unpleasant day, a wonder-full time.

I’m not sure why, exactly, but I felt more inspired with these thousand waterfalls than all the splendid buildings we’ve seen so far. Perhaps it was partly the result of being up in the mountains, which always touches my spirit. It is easy for me to understand why centres of reflective spirituality, particularly monasteries, were often established in the mountains. We have driven by some already on this leg of the journey, but more about that in another post.

Venice - Too Many People, Too Much of a Tourist Trap

2009-06-06T14:00:00.004-06:00

Our experience of Venice was simply too many people, specifically too many tourists. The whole place was set up for the tourists and from what we were told most of the Venetians have moved, their homes being purchased by foreigners. It didn’t feel like a true Italian city, rather more like a really large Disney ride. The Murano glass factory was cool, but the demonstration was too short as far as I was concerned - I could have watched that glass artist for a lot longer. Then, of course, we had to go through all the display rooms and get some slick pitches from sales people (which were as long as the glass artisan demonstration). The narrow streets were filled with shops, but all selling basically the same things - Murano glass, lace and linen work, souvenirs of Venice, or food for the tourists.

We also had a gondola ride, but far from being romantic we had 4 other people in the gondola with us and what was almost a traffic jam of gondolas moving about the canals. But not all was negative about the gondola ride, once we got into the interior canals of Venice it got much quieter - a nice change from the commotion of the streets. It was also interesting to see how the buildings were deteriorating and sinking in certain parts - hardly surprising when you consider how Venice was created. I didn’t realize that Venice was basically built on an artificial island in the middle of a lagoon. This was done apparently for defensive purposes, as was the intentionally maze-like streets.

For all its supposed splendour and culture we found it basically crowded and kitschy - certainly not the Venice of Verdi anymore. Shortly before we were to leave a storm blew in and it started to rain (good thing it held off until we were finished the gondola ride, otherwise we would have been stranded in the open and gotten really soaked. We boarded our waterbus, glad to get out of the rain, and glad to be heading back to the mainland where our hotel was.

One final note about Venice: on our way back to the part of Venice on the mainland (or Venize Mestre as it is know to the Italians) we went by many huge yachts, which we discovered were there for the opening of a new Modern Art Museum, invited there by the owner of the Gucci company who was a major benefactor for the new museum. Some of those yachts were massive, almost mini-cruise ships (some people have to much money!) Which leads me to my final comment - Venice is home to a large ship-building company (Fincantieri) that makes cruise ships including the Disney Cruise line - somehow appropriate for a place that seemed to me to have a false reality like a Disney ride.

Venice Highlight - Murano Glass

2009-06-06T13:57:00.001-06:00

The most amazing part of Venice, in my opinion, was the visit to a glass factory. There we saw a demonstration of glass blowing which was absolutely incredible to watch. I couldn’t believe how he could take a little blob of glass and with a few twists of the wrist, and a little air through the pipe, a beautiful vase began to appear. Another few blobs and the vase was given handles. Then, as a follow-up parlour trick he fashioned a glass horse for us. Again he started with a blob of molten glass, then he took some pincer type tool and started pulling on the glass to form the legs. In a few minutes he was done. Absolutely fascinating to watch and such a shame to see the beautiful vase (and horse) get dumped back into the furnace to be melted down. If they had been keeping the piece it would have gone into a cooling chamber for 24 hours. I also expect that for pieces that were meant to be sold, they might take more than a few minutes to fashion.

Of course, after the demonstration we were shepherded through the showrooms for a bit of a sales pitch. All of the works we saw were gorgeous - from vases with vibrant colors (made by mixing gold or different compounds with the glass) to ones made with glass beads and different forms of jewellery as well. We looked at a nativity scene made out of glass and would probably have been tempted if it had contained more color (and if the price tag was greatly reduced). We did, however, visit some of the shops along St. Mark’s square and I ended up finding a smaller nativity scene which I did purchase. It’s actually pretty cool because it has Mary, Joseph and Jesus on a gondola - very representative of Venice, I thought.

Ferrara not Ferrari

2009-06-06T13:47:00.003-06:00

Travelling from Florence to Venice we had to go through a mountain range. There is a four lane highway through the pass and apparently it often has delays (due to traffics accidents or vehicle breakdowns). Our tour went through this area without delay, thus we were able to make an unscheduled stop in a little Italian city called Ferrara. Elzo, our guide, said this is a nice stop to make because we would get a flavour of a “non-touristy, real Italian town,” with normal Italians going about their regular routines.

It was a great little stop. The first thing we walked through to get to the town square, was a castle - complete with a moat and drawbridge. The castle is still in use as the home of local government offices. The town square was filled with people doing activities we would recognize at home, like a grandmother talking with her young grandchild, a group of older men standing around talking like a sort of coffee row, shop owners chatting with their customers, and even local political volunteers doing some campaigning for the upcoming elections (we’ve seen election signs everywhere in Italy).

Beth and I took some time walking around the city centre, looking in the shops and eventually having some gelato cones, regretfully realizing that this may the last day we get true Italian gelato. (For those of you who don’t know what gelato is, the best way I can describe it is a cross between ice cream and sherbet). Then it was time to get back on the bus, but there was a problem - a young husband and wife were nowhere to be found. After waiting for 45 minutes and contacting the police the tour director said we had to leave (which caused all of us to worry and feel bad). Elzo said they would be fine because they are young, have each other, and can speak Spanish and that it would be fairly easy for them to get to Venice using the train.

Sure enough, shortly after we arrived at Venice we ran into them again (they were very
apologetic). They had caught the train and actually made it to Venice faster than us! All was well, everyone was relieved and we could fully enjoy the remainder of the day.

I should say a few words about our tour group. We started with 43 of us. One couple left the tour right away because the woman broke her ankle the day before the tour started and after one day she realized that it would be too difficult to move about. Of the 41 remaining folks there is a large group of Americans, but also some groups from New Zealand and Australia. Beth and I are the only Canadians. The group is very diverse, there is a Latino family, some grandparents with their grandchildren, a young couple who are moving to Victoria in the fall to teach at the University of Victoria (who brought her mother along as a gift to her before they moved). There are a retired science teacher and his speech pathologist wife from New York state, a Minnesotan woman (Norwegian Lutheran - no surprise) and her son who just graduated from University, and a Mother and daughter from New York city. Quite an eclectic mix, and Beth and I have been enjoying meeting different folks during our bus rides and meal times.

As I write this the bus is driving through a large wine making region (near Verona, the setting for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet). There are massive vineyards, and even though it is an overcast day, the scenery is lush and beautiful. This is on the way to Lucerne. The traffic is nicer today because there are few trucks on the road due to a European law which bans truck traffic on the weekend except for trucks carrying goods that spoil, or goods that are absolutely essential. I can hardly keep track of what the day is, I wouldn’t even know the date if it wasn’t for my watch - however today is indeed Saturday and that means it was been a week since we started our journey!

Things I Didn’t Know About Florence

2009-06-05T11:17:00.004-06:00

Yesterday we made the trip from Rome to Florence and I discovered the first thing I didn’t know about Florence, that Italians call it “Firenze” - thus on our train trip to Milan and back we were briefly in Florence twice (and I didn’t even know it!) On our bus trip our guide pointed out that all the ancient towns and cities of Italy were built on hill tops - this for reasons of defence. I just thought they looked cool - we drove by many of such villages and towns on this leg of the journey.

Florence, however, is not built on a hill, but primarily in a valley, but as this city has been the centre of banking, commerce and trades for many centuries the city bought its safety over the years by paying invading armies to leave them alone. An interesting form of defense.

I didn’t know that Florence was the beginning point of the Renaissance, nor that it was the home of Galileo, Michelangelo and even for a while Leonardo da Vinci. It is here that we saw Michelangelo’s famous sculpture of David. Our local guide was a very passionate and knowledgeable person who never stopped talking the whole time he was with us - a fount of information (and humour simply because of his mannerisms... "Please, just one more statue then we go...")

After seeing the David up close, and hearing the explanation by the guide I have a whole new appreciation for that sculpture and for Michelangelo. I didn’t know that the sculpture depicts David just before he slays Goliath (whereas up to that time all depictions of David and Goliath depicted the aftermath, with Goliath dead on the ground and David standing triumphant over him.) If you look at the face of David it is clam, determined and calculating, figuring out how best to attack the giant. The guide said Michelangelo’s intent is to say that through intelligence and confidence we can slay the giants, the difficulties, in our lives. David is also left handed in this sculpture, holding the end of the sling (with the stone) in his right hand, and holding the other end of the sling over his left shoulder with his left hand. The sculpture was originally intended to be up on the cathedral, thus the hands are disproportionate to the body in order to look good from a distance, but when the people of Florence saw the completed sculpture they wanted it closer to them, thus it was placed on the ground near the cathedral. The original now currently resides in the museum of the Academy of the Arts.

One other thing I didn’t know about Florence is that it has the 4th largest cathedral in the world. So by the end of our time in Europe Beth and I will have seen the four largest church buildings in the world - in order of size: Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome, Saint Paul’s Cathedral in London, The Duomo in Milan, and the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence. The fresco created inside the cupola of this church in Florence is the largest in the world - suitable for a city renowned for its development of the arts. On the outside this Florence cathedral was completely faced with different coloured marble (white, red and green). I can’t believe how much marble is used over here, it seems like every hotel we’ve been in has marble throughout, especially in the bathrooms. Right now as I look outside the bus window is a building completely faced with marble. I guess it makes it more possible when the marble is quarried in the same region.

Did you know that the story of Pinocchio is from Florence? There were many shops selling puppets, and they all featured that most famous of wooden stringed characters (whose nose grew long when he lied). My nose is still the same length so you should know that all this information is reliable.

The last thing I didn’t know about Florence is that it is known for its merchants. Well I can say from experience that they certainly know how to sell there wares, as Beth and I came away from Florence with some merchandise, but you have already read about that in Beth’s post. So I learned many things about Florence in the last 24 hours, and now you have too!

Last Reflections on Rome

2009-06-05T10:58:00.004-06:00

I realize that I’m getting behind in my postings… here we are on the bus driving to Venice and I haven’t even finished with Rome. So here is a post to finish up my reflections on Rome, then I can move on to Florence.

The Coliseum in Rome was one of the highlights of the day. To think that what is visible today is only part of the original building (it is missing about a third of its original structure), and that the whole building was faced with marble at one time! The marble is all gone, stripped off and used elsewhere in Rome when the Coliseum fell in disuse. The Coliseum became abandoned when following Constantine’s (and the Empire’s) conversion to Christianity the Gladiator Fights were discontinued. Apparently that was the only real use for the facility, other entertainment was done in other buildings (for example the chariot races were at the Circus, the plays at various amphitheatres). Not only was the Coliseum the first stadium type structure in the world (a design still used today by modern stadiums), it was the first covered stadium! A large canvas roof could cover the entire seating and stage area. It would have been something to see this building in its glory days, filled with 50,000 people, glistening in its white marble façade. Even today in its run down condition it inspires awe.

The Forum was also interesting but mostly for the history lesson the guide was giving as we walked through the ruins. It was very hot and humid and some of our group elected not to walk up the hills to see the ruins. Beth and I went, took lots of pictures, but were glad to get back to the bus - to our comfortable seats and air conditioning!

After a small break in our hotel room (just to get off our feet for a bit), and a trip to the Church Vestment store, Beth and I took a cab to the Catacombs of Domitilla. It was a bit outside the city centre (because people were not allowed to bury the dead inside the city walls in ancient Rome). These were not the catacombs I had originally hoped to visit (which are closed on Wednesdays) but these were just down the road and had some interesting features as well.

After mistakenly getting put in with a German group, we finally got connected up with an English speaking guide, and down into the catacombs we went. It was fascinating to see some of these examples of the earliest Christian art and symbols. I was able trace my fingers over 2nd and 3rd century versions of the Chi Rho (the symbol that combines the Greek letters that look like a P and a X - and form the first two letters of the word Christ). We also saw a fresco from the 3rd century that featured Jesus and the apostles (including Paul in this particular case). We learned that the Christians couldn’t really have hidden down in the catacombs during the persecutions because there would not have been enough air and light for them to do so for very long. There may well have been times they held brief worship services down in the catacombs, but those would have been more like family memorial services of thanksgiving more than anything else. At one point walking through the catacombs were heard another group who were holding a worship service down there (which is something that could be arranged by contacting the priest in charge of the catacombs in advance).

One of the most interesting things I learned about the catacombs was why they still existed in such good shape in a region known for its earthquakes. It all has to do with the porous rock that the catacombs were carved out of. This rock would hold a lot of moisture, which would then make the stone somewhat flexible, thus in an earthquake the walls would move but not break, unlike the buildings on the surface made from harder materials which would crack and crumble. This was good to know as we found ourselves many metres underground and remembering the tragic earthquake in Italy that was in the news recently.

Once we surfaced from the catacombs I asked the preist in charge what the best way to get to Saint Peter’s Basilica was. He told us the bus was quite easy, though it required a change of routes at one point. We hesitated and asked if he could call us a taxi, to which he insisted the bus would not be a problem (and a tenth the price of a cab!) So armed with a little map we headed down the street to the bus stop. The first trick was finding the bus stop - I stopped at a gas station, pointed to circled locations on the map and in this way asked for directions. This process was duplicated many times as we asked people if we were at the right bus stop, or on the right bus. I must say, most of the Italians were quite helpful, even if they couldn’t speak English they often were able to make themselves know by pointing at the map and nodding, or wagging their finger.

Eventually we boarded a bus crammed with people. I looked for the fare receptacle at the front of the bus (where they have always been on any of the transit buses I’ve ever ridden), but I couldn’t see anything for this purpose near the driver. It didn’t matter, next thing I knew Beth and I were being moved with the crowd further inside the bus. Then I spotted a machine that you put your coins in to get a ticket (a 1 Euro coin is good for 75 minutes on the transit system) and another machine where you validated the ticket. However the bus was so crowded I couldn’t make my way to the machine. Beth suggested we just do that on the next bus.

After riding through a section of the city that seemed totally unfamiliar to me I was beginning to think this was a terrible mistake and that we were going to end up lost in Rome. But then we spotted some familiar landmarks, and one of the nice Italian lady who was trying to be helpful indicated that we should get off at the next stop (at least I think that’s what she was saying… she herself got off at the previous stop). We got off and with a few more enquiries we got on another bus (much less crowded) and I looked around for the machine to put in our two Euro coins… but no machine! There was one to validate the tickets, but not one to issue the tickets, so in the end our transit experience was free.

Eventually we ended up right by Saint Peter’s Basilica (which as you may know from previous posts was right close to our hotel) and we hopped off - surviving another Rome transportation adventure. Since the Pope had his Blessing Service earlier that day, Saint Peter’s Basilica was closed to the public until the mid-afternoon. After our tour with the local guide the line up to get into Saint Peter’s was very long, at least an hour or two wait… thus we didn’t line up (we went to the Catacombs instead). But now, close to 7 PM there was no line up at all! So in spite of being tired from a long day of sightseeing we headed into the largest church building in the world. One of the first things we saw was Michelangelo’s Pieta. There was marvellous sculptures and artwork everywhere. There were tombs of past popes (including the body of John Paul II displayed in a glass case). Beth felt it was a little weird or creepy (displaying the bodies of dead popes), and I felt the whole building was not so much for God’s glory, but to celebrate human achievements. It certainly was big, and definitely beautiful, but once again I felt somewhat spiritually uninspired being in that most famous of sacred buildings. (Perhaps I was simply on overload having seen so much that day.) However I will say that visiting Saint Peter's Basilica was certainly a grand conclusion to our sightseeing in Rome.

Little Places - Pleasant Surprises

2009-06-04T22:23:00.003-06:00

Rome is not just a city of big sites like the Coliseum or Saint Peter’s Basilica, it is also many, many interesting little places. I would like to mention two. After our hectic touring in the morning and early afternoon we came back to the hotel. As the bus came down the street by our hotel Beth noticed a shop with clerical vestments in the window. She said to me “Maybe you need to get a new alb in Rome.” (An alb is the white robe worn by pastors when leading worship services, and the one I currently have is over 25 years old, and is starting to show its age, a new alb is something I’ve been talking about for the past little while.) However, based on the prices and type of vestments I saw in a store next door to the Vatican earlier that day I didn’t hold out much hope for finding anything suitable and reasonably priced.

With few expectations we walked down the street and entered this little shop, filled with some adult vestments, and a lot of children’s items (for altar boys, and first communion I suspect) They also had lots of school uniforms, which I found out later was because this store was the official supplier of school uniforms for many of the elementary and high schools connected with the Vatican and area. The first clerk couldn’t speak English so we were turned over to a young gentleman who was very pleasant to deal with. I explained that I was a Lutheran Pastor from Canada and would be interested to see what they had for albs. He went upstairs and came back with an alb as well as and red chasuble & stole set.

With a high level of professionalism, respectful manner, and friendly assurances, this gentleman helped me try on the vestments. The alb he showed me was a very different design from the one I currently have - for one thing it is not designed for use with a cincture (the rope belt), and it had interesting yet simple design work around the sleeves and hem that Beth said reminded her of hardanger (a Norwegian style of embroidery). The chasuble and stole set was lovely, but I’ve only worn a chasuble (a chasuble is full sized covering, like a poncho, it the appropriate liturgical colour) a few times in my life. He also showed me a green chasuble and stole set that was particularly lovely, made with Italian wool, with subtle gold work… gorgeous, but in the end I couldn’t justify spending that much money on something I would probably seldom use. However the alb felt really good on me, and Beth assured me that it looked good as well. Thus In the end I bought the alb and one green stole from the Martinetti Forniture Ecclesiastiche store. Of added bonus the price was very reasonable (probably not much more than I paid for my original alb 25 years ago!) So in this little shop on a side street in the shadow of Saint Peter’s Basilica I picked up a most unusual, and very meaningful souvenir - and had a great experience doing so.

Later that day, when we had finally made our way back from the Catacombs of Domitilla (a story in itself) and took a last minute look through Saint Peter’s Basilica, we were both hungry and tired. We decided to see what was available just around the corner from our hotel (thus just across the street from the Vatican). We bypassed the first place because the pizza looked like it had been sitting there for too long, and then we came across La Pilotta da Mario - with the owner standing in the doorway looking calmly out at the activity on the street. When we asked if he was still open he smiled warmly and said “Of course, of course” and indicated for us to have a seat. Beth ordered Fettuccini Alfredo and I ordered Fettuccini al Limone.

The pasta was excellent, some of the best I’ve ever had, anywhere. My pasta came with a lemon cream sauce that, while an unusual taste, was absolutely delicious. Beth thought her Alfredo was quite simply the best she had ever had. This wonderful pasta combined with a lovely glass of white wine made for a fantastic, yet simple supper, for these two tired travellers. After the main course I still had some room for a bit more so when the owner cleared our plates, I enquired about desserts. “Come, I show you” he said with a wink. Inside the dessert display was truly mouth-watering (even after such great pasta). Beth and I each enjoyed our desserts (a chocolate something for me, a cheesecake for Beth) in the cooling air of the late Roman evening, truly contented. There was no one else in the restaurant at that time, so we had the full attention of the owner, who was not overbearing at all, but truly attentive, a perfect host.

If you ever find yourself in Rome, you should seek out La Pilotta da Mario, close to Saint Peter’s Basilica, if you have food that is anything like our meal you won’t be disappointed. We were simply looking to fill our empty stomachs and we ended up experiencing another delight of Rome. Thank you Mario!

Leather, leather everywhere

2009-06-04T13:52:00.002-06:00

For those of you who followed my uncertainty and counselled me on footwear, you’ll be happy to know that I am managing quite well with my Birkenstock sandals and my runners (the dress sandals were perfect for the opera but probably won’t come out of my suitcase again). It’s been a good solution to alternate between the two pair of shoes, although I notice I am developing a shoe tan. As for my dream/plan of buying Italian shoes or boots I’m afraid that isn’t likely to happen now. Let me explain myself.

Today we were in Florence, which as some of you known is renowned for leather goods. Should be a good place to find shoes, you say? Yes, it would have been except that I got lured in by other leather products - everywhere I looked there were fabulous handbags, all sizes and shapes and colors. I ended up making a very extravagant choice (a Grace Kelly handbag) and that more than used up my entire leather budget. It is simply gorgeous though and worth every cent. Nothing quite compares with the aroma of those shops - sort of like new car smell but better. Maybe that’s my excuse - the fragrance went to my head (it also helps that handbags are one of my weaknesses).

My other Florentine purchase was two small hand painted watercolors of the Tuscan landscape. There were all kinds of artists in the square where we had some free time. This guy had several of his works on display and when I started looking, he opened up his portfolio and showed me hundreds (it seemed anyway). I also got my first taste of bartering - I really wanted the two small pictures but was still reeling from the leather purchase so I thought I better just get one. He saw my hesitation and lowered his price, I ended up getting a better deal without too much effort on my part. I wasn’t really intending to do that because I do believe in supporting local artists but I was still happy to make a deal.

A Dream Come True... Kind of

2009-06-04T10:50:00.004-06:00

So bright and early yesterday we were off to the Vatican Museums. Our local guide was a young Italian woman who carried a extendable metal wand with a gold scarf tied to the top. This was so the group could see her as we moved about the Vatican. There were lots of groups there, each with a guide carrying some kind of flag or scarf identifying themselves. To get into the Vatican museums we had to go through security much like at an airport, with metal detectors and x-ray scans for our bags and such. Once inside it was a bit frustrating for us because the tour guide kept moving at a quick pace and we could never stop and spend some time at an article or display of interest. It also didn’t help that the guide's transmitter mic kept cutting in and out (each person in the tour group got a receiver with an ear bud to listen directly to the tour guide - which allowed the members of the group to spread out a little more, without needing crowd around the guide to hear her - at least theoretically).

What an amazing collection of art and artifacts - it boggles the mind to think of how much there was to look at. But look isn’t even the right word for most of what we saw, glance would be more accurate. Part of the reason for our hurry surely had to do with the Vatican Museum people wanting to move people through efficiently simple because so many people were visiting the museums every day. But part of the reason for our haste also had to do with a Pope’s Blessing in Saint Peter’s square later that morning. Every Wednesday that the Pope is in the Vatican he has a special blessing ceremony, and the guide was making sure we got there for that.

The only place we got to spend some decent amount of time on the tour was in the Sistine Chapel. That certainly is something to see, though Beth was surprised it wasn’t larger. My memory of the Sistine Chapel (other than standing under Michelangelo’s amazing painting on the ceiling) was having the Museum attendants shushing the crowd every few minutes, and giving stern reprimands to anyone who held up a camera. I am amazed at how many places prohibit the use of cameras - I could understand that at La Scala where flashes going off during a performance would be distracting (though I couldn’t understand why that was still in force after the opera was over). I suppose it could be that the amount of flashes going off over time could fade or damage the artwork, but more likely they don't want photographers clogging up the movement of visitors through the museums, or (more cynically) they want people to purcase postcards and books if they want to take an image home.

After the Sistine Chapel we were hustled outside the museum, then around the outside of the Vatican wall to the entrance to Saint Peter’s square. Some of the folks in our group are not fast walkers, and we kept having to stop to wait for them to catch up. Once at the entrance we had to go through security again (just as at the entrance to the museum). There was a huge crowd trying to get in, and since it was close to 10:30 AM (the time the Pope would arrive) people were getting frustrated at the slowness of the security check - the guards didn’t seem too concerned however - certainly didn't speed up the process. Our group was able to get in and made our way to the back of the crowd. I estimate there were 100,000 people in the square (based on my experience of the size of Rider crowds); young and old, and every colour of skin under the sun. There was even a young bride and groom there in there wedding garments! There were also jumbotrons and television cameras placed around the square. The air buzzed with anticipation.

Soon applause began to break out and the Popemobile was driving through the crowd, though most of the time we had a hard time seeing anything except on the jumbotrons. However at one point the Pope was less than 100 metres away from where we were standing. We both tried to take pictures, but so were thousands of others and it was hard to get an unobstructed view. Eventually the Pope made his way to a large stage built on the steps of Saint Peter’s Basilica and the ceremony began. The Pope offered some kind of Invocation prayer or blessing (in Italian), this was followed by a reading of some verses from Psalm 24 by various priests from around the world (in various languages, including English). Then the Pope began reading a sermon or something like that - all in Italian (as far as I could tell). After about 5 minutes of the Pope’s speech we heard the guide calling the group over the headsets and we left Saint Peter’s square in the middle of the ceremony! I thought that rather rude, but maybe that was just the pastor in me thinking about how I would feel if a group of people suddenly got up and left in the middle of one of my sermons!

Leaving the ceremony early was indicative of the whole tour that morning, just a quick view of something then move on! We also saw the Coliseum and the Forum that day (on foot) as well as many other buildings and monuments from the bus, but that will be for another post.

So my dream from the previous night came partially true, I did see the Pope, me and a hundred thousand other people! He didn’t tell me to go on my journey, but while in the presence of the Pope I did hear a voice from out of the blue saying “andiamo” which meant “Let’s go!” (This of course was our restless tour guide).

Rome Again!

2009-06-03T12:34:00.005-06:00

Wow - what a jam-packed day this has been! Sarting with a 6:15 wake-up call (is this a holiday?) with our first tour date at the Vatican Museums at 8:00. Wednesday is the day that the Pope sometimes gives an audience so our Tour Guide didn't know for sure what our itinerary would be today. Sure enough, the Pope was going to appear in St. Peter's Square, so the Basilica was closed for security reasons. We did a speed tour of the Vatican Museums - to do them justice you really would need weeks - then walked as quickly as a group of 43 can over to the Square to be processed through security and get in place for the Pope's appearance. Good thing there are big screens in the square because he was pretty far away (I have a couple of pictures of him driving in, pretty much just a white head in the distance.)

From there we went to the Colosseum and the Forum - again just incredible how old these ruins are but you can still learn so much about that period of time from the remnants. Speaking of remnants, in our spare time Dennis & I went to the catacombs - that was very interesting to learn about the burial practices of this time (I'm sure Dennis will blog about this and the adventure involved in the journey). I have to tell you whenever we've taken a taxi here, I just have to either shut my eyes or really focus on the surroundings. I'm amazed there aren't more accidents, you hear horns blaring all the time - I also am thankful I don't have to worry about a learner driver either. Agressive doesn't even come close to describing it but I guess at least they really seem to pay attention to each other.

We ended our day by visiting St. Peter's Basilica - the Pope was gone so security was relaxed. That's a huge building' and quite the experience.

Then we found a little restaurant near our hotel - I had the best Fettucine Alfredo ever - it didn't taste like anything I had ever had before. That and a little cheesecake was the perfect end to a great day.

I Had a Dream

2009-06-02T22:38:00.001-06:00

Early Wednesday I awoke to the sound of church bells ringing and Rome beginning to wake up. I had been dreaming a most peculiar dream. I don’t remember my dreams usually, but this one stuck in my mind. In my dream I had an audience with the Pope! I wasn’t the only one, there were a number of people in a line, I was simply one of them. We each went up to the Pope in turn and had a few words with the Bishop of Rome. In my dream I’m not sure if it was the current Pope, or perhaps John Paul II - either way the Pope told me that a journey would be important for my spiritual development, and that I should pay attention to it. Then a band I was in, directed by my old band director Joe Hary, played some kind of a new setting for a liturgical piece for the Pope (though I didn’t recognize what part of the liturgy it was).

Maybe I had this dream because one of the last things we saw last night before arriving back at our hotel was the apartment where the Pope stays while in Rome. Up on the top floor of a building only a few blocks from the hotel is the Pope’s residence! It was a wild dream, and I wasn’t able to get back to sleep after waking up from it… so for the second time on this trip I was up before Beth (and that seldom happens).

Today we go to the Vatican (another reason for my dream?) and in order to facilitate this for the tour group we have an early start. How early? Let’s just say I now have a recording of the bells striking 6 AM, and I was up early enough to figure out when they would strike next. Now off to breakfast and a full day (we may still be able to get to some catacombs today - though not the ones I had originally plans to see, they are closed on Wednesdays… of course).

By the way, the picture at the top of this posting was taken moments ago from the balcony outside our hotel room… I wasn’t kidding about being close to St. Peter’s Basilica!

Of Meals and Music

2009-06-02T14:19:00.003-06:00

This evening we met with our Tour Group for the Globus Tour. Our first event was a four course Italian meal at a local restaurant, complete with wine and some musicians. The meal was great but way too much food, by the time we got to our main course I was so full I couldn't finish half of it (even though it was delicious). So far we have had nothing but good food over here, even last night after the opera Beth and I had some toasted sandwiches at the hotel restaurant, and they sure hit the spot. We've had some lovely wines as well, but that shouldn't be too surprising given the country we're in.

At the meal there was an accordion player (Dad you would have loved that) who played all kinds of music including Lara's Theme (Mom you would have loved that). Along with him was a soprano who sang on half the songs. During our Tour Group introductions I mentioned that Beth and I were beginning a 6 week vacation in Europe to celebrate our 25th anniversary - that generated a round of applause from the group, and then a chant of "kiss, kiss, kiss" went up, so slightly embarrassed we obliged them. Later during the supper the musicians came over to play and sing Schubert's Ave Maria for us and the restaurant staff brought us a special dessert for us with a candle in it. Then I had to stick a rose between my teeth and kiss Beth while the waiter took our picture (you embarassed yet kids?)... that was a memorable meal for many reasons.

Besides the opera the other music we have heard so far has been from various street musicians heard while wandering Rome and Milan. Today we heard a jazz sax player and a classical duet consisting of violin and accordion - both acts on the streets of Milan, both really good at what they did. The sound of the lone saxophone echoing through the steets around the Duomo was almost surreal, especially because it took some time locating the source of this music. I look forward to hearing much more good and interesting music as we make our way through Europe.

Tomorrow is an early start so we can get in to see some of the sites of the Vatican. Our hotel is literally right down the street from Saint Peter's Basilica, only a few blocks away. The tour guide seems quite knowledgeable, and already simply from driving over to the restaurant and back I have learned many new things about Rome. I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Go Up to the Heavens, Not Down into the Dirt!

2009-06-02T09:48:00.003-06:00

The title to this blog posting is the message I think I’m getting, for every time I plan to go to something underground, forces beyond my control conspire to keep that from happening. First it was the Italian Bike Race that kept us from visiting the Catacombs in Rome, then today when I had planned to visit the excavations under the Duomo we found out that was impossible as they were closed for repairs. Ironically that was the only thing I really wanted to do in Milan (other than attend the opera of course), this was because the archaeological excavations under the Duomo include an ancient baptistery (an octagonal pool used for baptism) where Saint Augustine was baptised by Bishop Ambrose (who was responsible for Augustine’s conversion) way back in the 4th century. However we stood above the place where this took place, so that will have to suffice.

It might sound like I was terribly disappointed with our visit to Milan, but that would be incorrect, because instead of going down to the baptistery we went up to the roof. For 5 Euros each Beth and I were allowed to climb the stairs up to the roof of this amazing cathedral. Up on top of the cathedral we got a bird’s eye view of Milan, and got to see the intricate spires up close. I shot a whole roll of film on that roof top - so many cool things to see. The weather was absolutely perfect for such a roof top excursion, sunny with hardly a breeze.

After being outside in the bright sun, and seeing the white marble construction, going inside the cathedral was a study in contrasts. Inside was quite dark and almost gloomy. At the entrance to the Duomo was a soldier and some other type of official, both of whom warned us that there was to be no picture taking inside (we were also told we couldn’t use the tripod on the roof top - I’m beginning to wonder why I brought that thing). Just like at the opera, even though it was cleary stated that there was to be no picture taking in the theatre, people seemed to simply ignore that prohibition. I didn’t bother to try taking pictures in the Duomo even if others were doing that, simply because it was so dark and terrible for picture taking with my setup.

Probably the best part of viewing the inside was simply seeing the size of the place (I read that it can hold 40,000 people comfortably - that’s 10,000 more people than at a packed Rider game!). Apparently it is the third largest cathedral in Europe. The stained glass windows were beautiful as well, but we didn’t spend too much time looking around inside, instead we headed off for La Scala to visit the La Scala store (which we weren’t able to do last night). We walked through a large mall with a glass ceiling (where some of the designer shops were - I bought a Italian tie!) and there was the opera house on the other side.

I had hoped that they had a more recent recording of the opera we heard, which I found I appreciated more than I had anticipated - live opera is so much better than recorded in my estimation. (I found myself being emotionally moved by the end of the performance, much to my surprise). The shopkeeper told me that there are only two recordings of Assassinio Nella Cattedrale, both from the 50’s (when the opera was written), and Beth already has one of those - no modern recordings, so Beth bought a fridge magnet instead.

A quick trip back to the hotel, a quick clean up (including using the ultra cool shower one more time) and we walked to the train station (only 4 blocks away). We’ve used the wheels on our luggage quite a bit, but so far haven’t braved using the backpack straps. Using the automated ticket dispensers we printed out the tickets I purchased on the internet weeks ago - the whole system worked pretty slick once I figured out how to use it. I know I got a good deal on ticket prices when I showed the tickets to a station attendant (trying to figure out what platform our train left from) and he asked me where I got the tickets from, pointing out to another attendant the price, and when I said “The internet” he exclaimed “Oh, the internet, mmm” nodding with approval.

So now we are en route to Rome again where we will meet up with our Globus tour. I suspect that we will not have as much time to write for our blog while on the tour, but we’ll see. I’m looking forward to not worrying about language issues any more, letting the tour guide deal with all that stuff for us. One more thing before I end this post, remember how I said I’ve never seen so many clergy in my life, well, sitting across from us right now on the train is an Italian priest, who was reading some kind of lectionary or service book earlier (with a plastic glove on his one hand for some reason)… maybe he’s preparing for a sermon, something I don’t need to worry about for another 6 weeks!

Milan Part 1

2009-06-02T09:43:00.001-06:00

I was looking forward to the train ride to Milan and seeing the Italian countryside. However I ended up sleeping most of the way. I think the jet lag had finally caught up to me, I seem to have developed a bit of a cold also so yesterday I pretty much just went from the train station to our hotel and napped.

Fortunately I was recovered enough to go to La Scala last evening. Even though the opera wasn’t a familiar one it turned out to be really enjoyable. It helped that Dennis had read through the play so could fill in the gaps - it was also great that La Scala has installed little reader displays at each seat so you could get the libretto in either English or Italian. I don’t have any personal experience with opera houses so don’t have much to compare it to but even if I did I believe La Scala would come out way ahead. The opulence of all the boxes going up the periphery of the space, one on top of the other. I think I cheaped out a little bit too much, should maybe have tried for better seats but what we had were still okay.

The thing about that building is that I think you would have great sound no matter where you were sitting and that’s pretty much what this opera was about. It wasn’t a really visual one, fairly minimal sets (although there was one pretty cool effect when he was preaching his Christmas sermon) and we could see Thomas Becket being murdered which was pretty much the climax. I did manage to take a few pictures, in spite of the ushers. No picture taking is allowed so I held off for quite a while but at the intermission I just couldn’t resist so I broke the rules and took a few. I was going to take one of the entire cast at the end but I got a finger wagging from an usher so put my camera away - judging by the overall behaviour within the theatre, the ushers must spend most of their time chastising picture takers.

Now we’re on the train again, heading back to Rome so I’m going to see some of the country side I missed yesterday (it’s Dennis’ turn to sleep apparently).

Roman Holiday

2009-06-02T09:36:00.002-06:00

We had an amazing day in Rome on Sunday - did lots of walking (20,800 steps ladies!). It was so different from anything I’ve ever experienced, the narrow, cobblestone streets, ancient architecture juxtaposed with haute couture shops. Speaking of shops, the thing I found very interesting is that all the window displays included the prices - so you might be looking at a pair of fabulous shoes and notice the price of 150 euros, then you could make the decision of whether or not to go in. Even the designer shops had a discreet little placard in the corner, listing prices. I figured it must be some kind of a bylaw or something.

As Dennis mentioned we did make it to the Pantheon. I think that must be an architectural marvel - how did they make the necessary calculations to fit the rounded roof together, and with the hole in the center I wondered how it all stayed together. Obviously it does and has for hundreds of years, this is just more evidence that I’m no math whiz. I also loved the gelato shop just outside the Pantheon with the statue of Betty Boop in the doorway - Betty’s Gelato.

The other church we visited was also amazing (you quickly run out of adjectives to describe things). We hadn’t intended to visit San Giovanni di Laterno but it was quite an experience also. There were statues of all the disciples surrounding the massive worship space and many little side chapels. People say you get tired of all the churches, we’ll see.