This is an edited-down version of the blog from my RTW. It’s still long, but hopefully can be helpful to others planning this kind of adventure. I’ve split it into several parts: Preparations; Australia & Japan; Finland, Poland & the Baltics; and Brazil to Home. Each part is broken down further by day of posting. If you’re interested in pictures from the trip, they can be found at www.geocities.com/j379pa . Special thanks to Randy, Flyertalk and Awardplanner, without which the trip could have never happened.
JP

Preparations
Today is May 9th, three months and a week before I begin.

Nearly all flights and rooms are booked. Remaining to do are to book paid flights between Sydney & Melbourne, secure rooms for three nights at a Buddhist temple on Mt Koya, Japan, get a visa for Brazil, and get a few more innoculations.

For those that don't know--I've been saving up frequent flier miles, and booked a "round-the-world" trip through Delta. They offer 6 stops in one direction in coach for 140,000 miles, business class for 220,000 miles. I decided to make a push and get enough miles for business class.

I joined "AwardPlanner", a frequent flier travel agency. It was a good investment: I told them about what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go, when & how long, and they put it together for me, managing all the phone calls. Around 21 flights in all (small adjustments happen as the airlines change flight schedules), including Delta, Korean Air, Air France, and Czech Airlines. All I had to do was spend an hour at the airport while the ticket agent figured out how to issue the ticket (only her second RTW award in 30 years!). The ticket is stapled into two booklets--it was too thick to put into just one.

My work is granting me a renewal leave for two months. I'll spend a few days in Phoenix and in Kentucky as I start and finish. Then, it's Australia, Japan, Egypt, South Africa, the Baltics, and Brazil!

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

I hit my first real booking hitch today. None of my hotel points were good in Riga, Latvia, so I started a Best Western account to take advantage of their hotel there. Much to my chagrin, I called today to double check on the points needed to stay there, and the hotel has decided to not accept any more free stays this year! A bait-and-switch, if you ask me.

I probably just passed the points I would have needed, so plan B will be to cancel a hotel I had booked in Lithuania with Hilton, and use the BW vouchers there. It looks like the BW points expire more quickly than Hilton points, so I want to use them up. There is a second town in Lithuania with a BW, so I'll consider staying there rather than Vilnius--but I'll research it some more, first.

So my Riga stay is now wide open. There seem to be cheap hotels and expensive hotels, and not much in between. I'm looking into staying at Jurmala, a coastal town very close to Riga, where rooms are looking much more reasonable.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

So, I got my in-country travel in Australia booked this evening. Virgin Blue (www.virginblue.com) offered great deals on one-way or round trip flights, so I booked a one-way back from Melbourne to Sydney, arriving at the airport in plenty of time (famous last words) to get on my next flight out to Tokyo Narita.

I'm in the process of booking a train ride to get to Melbourne from Sydney (www.railaustralia.com.au ). I've sent a request for the trip I want, and they'll e-mail me back in a day or so. The train is a 10+ hour ride compared to just over one hour on the plane, but there's nothing like seeing part of a country from the ground level. You also get to visit with some of the locals--as well as other international travelers--when you're on a train ride together. Now I've got to notify my friends in Melbourne and see if they can get me from the rail station to the hotel!

That price was also very good, a bit less than the airfare, and was much less by booking more than 2 weeks in advance. Total for the rail & airfare is about $123 U.S.

Next to finish booking--Japan!

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

My rail ticket for Sydney-Melbourne arrived in the mail today--pretty good service!

I've e-mailed the Ekoin Buddhist Temple in Koyasan, Japan regarding lodging for three nights, but haven't heard back. It seemed like the right mix of good reviews and a central location. For more information on Koyasan, take a look at the link on the Japan page.
If & when I get confirmed for lodging there, I'll post a link, if available.

I hoped to attach a picture & post it here, but it didn't go. Looks like I'll be posting them on the regular website.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

Received a nice note today from one of the monks associated with the Ekoin Temple in Koyasan, confirming my stay there in September.

I've put a link to Ekoin on my Japan page, but most of the pictures seem to refer to a temple in Tokyo. There is some helpful history and background about the order that is in english. If anyone can translate some of the Japanese and let me know if any of it refers to their temple on Mt Koya, let me know...

Thursday, July 01, 2004

So, I spent an hour with the doctor this morning. Great guy, he did at least a cursory check-up for me and quizzed me on the trip. He was very familiar with Sydney & Melbourne, and wrote out a list of "don't miss" sights in both cities. He also shared the name and number for a doctor friend in Melbourne, in case I get sick there. Nice guy!

I completed my hepatitis A & B shots, and learned that he doesn't stock the yellow fever vaccine (go figure), so I'll have to get myself down to the health dept soon. That one seems to be required to get into Brazil.

He also set me up with some pills in case I get sick en-route. Nothing exotic, just some stomach-upset stuff (I did survive the bar-b-que pigeon the last time I was in Cairo), and some general high-octane anti-biotics that can kick most any evil infection/bug/etc.

Still to do--hopefully this weekend--is the visa for Brazil, and figuring out whether to switch to Best Western in Vilnius & burn the points, or stick with the Skandic/Hhonors deal. Oh yes, and, buy a suitcase, new deck shoes, mail books to my destinations (too many to carry the whole way), and stock up on vitamins, neosporin, deodorant, etc.

Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Got my Brazilian visa back today, after a bit of a bump. Hint: follow directions for getting a visa on the Consulate website, not the tourism one. Courteous and speedy service, though, and it was much appreciated. I get the yellow fever shot in the morning.

Best Western just started allowing the transfer of points to airlines, so I've now got 23 points left with Best Western, and 5,000 miles on the way to my Delta account--putting me over the top for another free trip to Europe! I still have the two certificates, and need to see if I can get those points redeposited.

Mailed books to myself today, with destinations of Osaka, Tallinn, and Nysa (Poland). Spent about $55 doing it, a bit steep, but it will keep my luggage under the weight limit, and save my back. I plan to tackle "Finnegan's Wake"--along with Joseph Campbell's
"A Skeleton Key to Finnegan's Wake"--while traveling in the Baltics.

Lots of little tasks yet to do, but the big ones are falling into place. Until next time...

Saturday, August 14, 2004

It's been a wild month.

The sad news is the death of my mother Olive, not unexpected and yet we thought she might just last forever... So, a quick trip to Kentucky became an eight day stay.

Just prior to that, I was at a camp across the Puget Sound from Seattle with a group of young people. Beautiful location, good people, great coffee.

One of my plans has been to sell my car prior to the big trip, and that is happening. I was down at the Department of Motor Vehicles getting the title, and was sitting across from a man who was pretty agitated. He was muttering to himself, uttering expletives, then began walking around and yelling at the staff. He left, then tried to come back in, but someone hit a hidden button and locked the doors. He left again, but came back this time in his pick-up truck, and drove it through the front doors! Glass flew everywhere, but the metal door frames held. We were afraid he was coming in with a gun, but thankfully
left and was soon caught by the police.

When it was over, I realized the clerk had gone to print my car title when all this happened. This being my fourth or fifth trip there (and they thought that guy was mad!), I decided to stick it out. So, with the place emptied out, broken glass on the floor, police inside interviewing staff, and my clerk shaking her head saying "I'm gonna look for another job—I can't take this anymore", I finally got my title. You can view a news report at http://www.abc15.com/news/schedule_archives/ and looking for stories from August 12.

I'm often asked if it is safe where I'm going. This story illustrates that bad stuff can happen anywhere, when you least expect it. If we hide ourselves at home, if we fail to interact with and learn about our friends in other countries, if we fail to be open to new ideas and different ways of thinking, we are all at great risk. Risk of intolerance, violence and war. There are certainly risks inherent with travel, but they can be managed with good planning and decision making. The risks of living a life of isolation and geocentrism are much greater.

Sunday, August 22, 2004

The trip begins! Australia & Japan

Had a few minutes in the Korean Air lounge and thought I'd check in.

Pretty uneventful flight thus far, outside of the 14+ hour length! Cute little complimentary house slippers in the seat pocket, combs, toothbrushes, paste & shaving stuff in the bathroom. Lots of interesting food on-board--had some "seared" tuna with a salad that seemed one step away from sushi; seaweed soup with lunch; and tiny little octopi mixed up in the seafood pasta--yum!

The Seoul international terminal is large and nice, made up of mostly duty-free shops plus a few diners. There is a massage place, which is sorely tempting right now, but I'll hold out for a better price elsewhere.

Hope to sleep between here & Sydney--another 10 hours on the plane, then a 7:40 AM arrival. Then I hope to be ready for a pretty full day exploring Sydney, in order to get in the right time zone fast (based on my typing, I'm not there yet...).

So--I'm alive as of Sunday evening in Seoul. More as I'm able to check in.

Monday, August 23, 2004

Got to Sydney yesterday morning, and am having a great time! Did a 2.5 hour tour around Sydney Harbor, including spectacular views of the Opera House! I scored some tickets for the symphony there Wednesday night, so I'll get to enjoy seeing it and hearing
music in it at the same time!

I later did the Bondi bus tour (all part of a Sydney transportation pass I bought, including the ferry tour mentioned), and saw a good bit of the city and the surrounding shore lines. I'll do another bus tour today, walk across the harbor bridge, and explore a bit more of Darling Harbor.

My hotel is great, with wonderful views straight out on Darling Harbor. Food is pricey at the hotel (breakfast buffet about $20 US), though, so I'm eating at diners and the like.

Sunday, August 29, 2004

Had a good arrival into sunny Sydney, and got an early check in at the hotel. Signed up for the 3-day transit pass, which got me on all busses, ferries, subways, etc in the region--a great plan! I rode two different tour loops around Sydney on busses, seeing Bondi Beach, neat neighborhoods, across the Harbor Bridge and to the Opera House. I did both daytime and nighttime cruises on ferries on the harbor, getting as far as Manly.

The two highlights were walking across the Harbor Bridge, and attending a concert at the Opera House. The Bridge walk was about half an hour, with added time to go up in one of the pylons, read about the building of the bridge, and enjoy the views from the top. I've got a few photos on the Australia picture page.

The Sydney Symphony was playing a Bach violin duet, and then Bruckner's 4th Symphony. Very nice concert, good acoustics in the hall, though the temperature was
more than warm and muggy. Sadly, the docents wouldn't let me take pictures inside, even though it was before the performance. You'll just have to go and see if for yourself...

Did the 11 hour train ride to Melbourne, meeting on the journey a sheep shearer and a young man who had danced in the closing ceremony for the Sydney Olympics. The sheep shearer was returning from testifying in his neighbor's attempted murder trial

Arrived after dark in Melbourne to a rainy night and a train station under construction. After a frustrating time finding the right trolley, I finally made it to my hotel. My friend Jake Meadley, a former camp staff person, met me there the next day and has
been a terrific host! I also spent an hour with Kerri Couch Nichols, an other camp summer staff person who was in town for a conference.

Jake has taken me all over Melbourne and the vicinity. A real thrill was our drive down the great ocean road yesterday, arriving at the southern coast in time to see "the twelve apostles" at sunset. I've got a great picture of them on the Melbourne page.

We attended church this morning at the New Community Ringwood, which meets in a community center here. Kind of a "seekers" church, it was an interesting service. They have a website at www.ncr.org.au .

I fly out tomorrow, back to Sydney, then Seoul and Tokyo. I'm concerned about the typhoon that is hitting southern Japan and heading for Korea. I guess I'll find out if it affects my flights very soon.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Whoa--glad I looked at this after I posted it! The computer in the webcafe here in Tokyo put up some very interesting non-english letters...

So, I'm in Tokyo and all is well! The only hitch with the typhoon was an aborted landing coming into the Narita airport--pretty exciting in a 747! I knew it would be interesting when the video screen in the plan showed tailwinds of 40-50 mph while we were landing. They got us down, though, and so the trip continues...

Tokyo is hot and humid--I broke out the shorts today, the heck with the local style police! Tokyo's best are the buddhist shrines you happen upon in parks. I:ve also gotten in a couple of museums, and have successfully navigated their daunting train system. Back to the hotel this evening, then I’m off to Mt Koya and Osaka.

I may not be in touch again until my next flight in 4 or 5 days, when I can log in at the airport. Until next time--

Saturday, September 4

Well, I just read on-line that we had an earthquake here. I never felt it, but it explains why the trains were running so slowly this evening, and why the elevators at my hotel aren't working. I'm on the 20th floor, I was on the other end of town when it hit, and
I'm not taking the steps back up--so, here I am.

Japan has been great. The rail system in Tokyo intimidated me at first, but I picked it up pretty quickly. Stops are in japanese and english, and also post what the next stop is, which is enormously helpful. What is not helpful is when the passengers have lowered all the window shades in the rail car and you can't see out to read the signs...

I just came to Osaka today, after three days in Koyasan. Koyasan is a center for "esoteric" buddhism, with over 100 temples, about half of which offer lodging and meals. I stayed at Ekoin, in a traditional japanese room: tatami floor, paper covers over the windows, vegetarian breakfast and supper delivered to my room. I attended prayers all three
mornings, which was a wonderful experience. After the prayers, they had a fire ceremony in another, smaller temple. This was much akin to the days when I had to build campfires at summer camp, and they didn't always want to start. The priest here had some sort
of oil (lighter fluid?) in some brass dishes that helped things along. Toured a number of temples and pagodas in Koyasan, and the cemetary, which is a world heritage site. An amazing and moving place. I'll try to post a few pictures later tonight--if the elevators
come back on line.

Japan is both wonderful for it's hospitality and beauty, and frustrating for things that seem silly to our culture, like the obsession with cleanliness: taking your shoes off, putting on slippers, putting on different slippers in the bathroom, etc. I've just eaten way too many things this week that I couldn't recognize.

That's all for now. Osaka castle in the morning, then off to Cairo.

Sunday, September 05, 2004

So, I'm reading in bed on the 20th floor of the Osaka Hilton at midnight last night when the second, larger quake hit. The news is saying it was 7.3.

First vibrations, then shaking, then the building started swaying. Closet doors sliding back and forth, but nothing falling off of shelves. The building was creaking and groaning, but held up (or, obviously, I wouldn't be writing this!). The swaying lasted about 5 minutes. News channels were broadcasting tsunami alerts, and the hotel loudspeaker came on at 12:20 AM announcing the elevators were once again out of
service.

Woke up at 5:30 AM to a smaller aftershock. Just some vibrations and creaking and groaning, but not much swaying. I'll sleep well on the plane tonight!

This link ties to the yahoo-AP news story:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmp...pan_earthquake

Egypt & South Africa

Thursday, September 09, 2004

So, I'm in the library in Alexandria, Egypt, accessing the internet. Sadly, they have all e-mail sites blocked--maybe I can get in a web cafe later to see what's happening.

Had a good trip out of Osaka to Cairo. Got in about 2:30 AM, and it was almost 3:30 AM before I cleared customs, got the visa, and retrieved my baggage. Gratefully, my friend Viola's husband, Farid, was waiting for me, smiling and waving.

We went first to their apartment, passing the Citadel in Cairo first, and also Sadat's tomb. After some ice cream and packing, we hit the road about 5:00 AM for Alexandria, in order to miss the rush hour traffic (more about traffic here later...). We went by the pyramids at Giza on the way out, but they were nearly obscured by the morning haze; moreover, the gate didn't open for another hour. Still, the massive outlines of the last remaining ancient wonders of the world were visible through the haze, sentinels that have withstood the eons.

Alexandria is great: a seaside (Mediterranean) city, wonderful breezes, happy people on the beach. My friends have rented an apartment for us overlooking the ocean. Four Seasons is building a hotel/resort nearby. The first day was pretty leisurely, following a long night. Since then, we've visited the Greco-Roman museum (watch the pictures for the mummified alligator!), the Citadel of Alexandria (built on the site of the lighthouse of Alexandria, another ancient wonder now long gone), the aquarium (one sign in english said "some kind of fish from the Red Sea") and Air France, where I re-confirmed my flights . The library itself is an architectural tour-de-force, rivaling any building on any continent. It seeks to begin to replace for the Egyptian people the ancient library here that held many priceless texts.

Traffic here proves, at least in my mind, the validity of the "chaos theory" (where chaos becomes self organizing). Death awaits at every intersection; traffic lights may work but are ignored; my friends say the lines on the streets are there for decoration; pedestrians cross the street at any point and do not have the right-of-way; the horn is more important than the turn signal; and most cars lack any fender that has been unscathed. My friends Fiat lacks windshied wipers and the side mirrors dangle uselessly from the doors: it seems the perfect vehicle to negotiate traffic in Cairo and Alexandria. Yet amidst all this turmoil, I've yet to see an accident.

Last night, we went for a ride in a horse drawn carriage along the main drive along the beach. Three or four lanes of traffic each way, often broadened to five or six with the creative driving done here. We're all piled into the carriage, and the driver has egyptian rock music blaring from a speaker (my friends call it "micro-bus music"). After an aborted landing in a 747 (see Tokyo) and riding out an earthquake in bed in a swaying hotel room on the 20th floor of the Hilton (see Osaka), my most frightening experience to date was when the driver of the carriage pointed his horse the other direction and did a u-turn across six lanes of nightime Alexandrian traffic.

I'll leave tonight on a bus back to the Cairo airport, have about 10 hours in Paris to explore (thinking about Notre Dame and the Louvre), then down to Johannesburg. I hope to have time at the Paris airport to post some pictures from Egypt.

Egypt is a wonderful place, still exotic, and like no other. At times the cities here seem under both construction and serious decomposition, yet one cannot ignore the society and the structures it built that have remained for over 5,000 years. The Egyptian people are kind and helpful; my hosts have been wonderful; my stay, too short.


Friday, September 10, 2004

I'm writing from Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. I was going to go into the city today with my long layover, but found there was no place to store my carry-on at the airport, and was also pretty pooped after a night of travel and not much sleep. So, I'm hanging out in the Air France lounge, eating free snacks, and finally got access to a computer with a US keyboard--the others here have most of the letters in the same places we do, but not all...

My friends Viola and Farid showed me a wonderful time in Alexandria. I left with as many Egyptian pounds as I started with--they were very generous in many ways.
A site we visited that I failed to mention was the grounds of the palace that are at the water's edge in Alexandria. Built in the early 20th century, it features a grand entrance, lovely gardens, and a well maintained palace, which we weren't able to enter.

We wrapped up our visit with a traditional Egyptian meal in a fine restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean. I had kabob, which included both chicken and a ground, spicy beef, vegetables, and a delicious ride pilaf.

At 1:45 this morning, I departed Alexandria on the bus for the Cairo airport. Comfortable, modern and air conditioned, the driver began with a tape of an Egyptian singer doing a sort of chant that was kind of a nice send off, though a bit loud. After we got on the road, he put in a movie that was some sort of Egyptian comedy--big detective type gets in embarrassing situations, such as on stage with dancing girls. The driver had the sound cranked up even louder, but fortunately each seat had a button to turn off the sound. We were all of one accord, and had a nice, quiet trip to Cairo. Sleep was in fits and starts, though, and not restful.

I got to the Cairo airport around 5:30 AM, and was able to check in around 7:00. They had a small lounge for business class travelers, which eased things a bit. I slept off and on on the plane, and got to Paris around 2:00 PM. I fly out at 11:00 PM. As much as I was looking forward to exploring Paris, I didn't have it in me. As we were coming in over the villages and rolling hills, I realized that France would be a fine choice for my travels next year--we'll see!

The computers here won't access my card reader, so I'll break down and pay for some wireless time in an hour or two. So, be watching for Egypt pictures as well as more Japan pictures later today.

On to Johannesburg!

Sunday, September 12, 2004

I'm staying in Sandton, South Africa, a suburb of "Joburg" that seems to be the Scottsdale of the area--fancy schmancy.

I saw the other side today on a tour of Soweto. Hugely mixed emotions about going there as a tourist, feeling a bit of a voyeur, and yet deeply moved by the successful struggle of people like Nelson Mandela, Bishop Tutu, and Steven Biko (today is the anniversary of his death at the hands of the police).

Soweto was formed when black families were forcibly moved from their homes in Johannesburg. Houses were bulldozed, and personal belongs dumped in this area
out of town, named Soweto for south western township.

We learned about the Soweto uprising, when 600 children and youth were killed by police, and visited the Hector Pieterson museum, honoring the 13 year old boy who was the first person killed by police in the uprising. The uprising was prompted by the
government's insistence that all education be in the language of Afrikaaners, a version of dutch imposed from without.

We saw where Bishop Desmond Tutu lives today, and saw Mandela's house, rebuilt after a fire bombing in 1985. We also saw Mandela's current home in a different part of the city.

We walked through a squatter's village, very similar to the colonia we've worked in in Agua Prieta, Mexico, but much larger--6-7,000 people, still without water or electricity after over 9 years there. We visited two homes, leaving bags of food we had bought
en-route. Perhaps they'll use it, perhaps they'll sell it, but poor is poor.

Soweto didn't have water or electricity to the homes before Mandela's release and presidency, either, but they lived next to and worked at the power plant that provided service to white Johannesburg.

It is easy to tsk, tsk and say what an ugly government that was, but the story is legion, from my country's removal of native americans, the enforcement of segregation, to the poor treatment of indigeneous peoples in other places like Australia.

The hope comes from the story of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, put together by Mandela and Tutu, which sought truth in return for forgiveness and reconciliation, rather than revenge. It worked, and while much work remains to be done here to bring about racial equality, the work of this commission shows another path to peace that is much more stable than the misuse of one's power.

A fine book to read about all of this is Nelson Mandela's biography, "Long Walk to Freedom". It is well worth your time.

Tomorrow--Pilanesburg National Park!


Monday, September 13

Huge disappointment this morning when the concierge called 30 minutes prior to my trip to Pilanesburg National Park to inform me that the trip had been canceled due to low registration (just me). A check of other options indicated none I was interested in, and local museums are closed on Mondays. I briefly considered renting a car and driving myself up there, but being a solo traveler in a truly wild area coupled with driving on the other side of the road from what I’m used to was too far beyond my comfort zone. It looks like I’ll at least get to the Apartheid Museum tomorrow before I fly out.

I had prepared myself before I left to expect disappointment and things not going as planned at some point. Kind of the “expect the worse, and you won’t be disappointed” attitude. It happened today, and it’s a sad thing. I will include a note to the manager with my evaluation, as you pay a premium to use the concierge to arrange these things—they can’t control cancellations, but they could protect their guests by doing confirmations, etc.

One of my challenges has been being here only a few days. A longer stay would have given more options for rearrangements. My advice to those coming is to stay at least a week, and sign on for a several night trip prior to departure to a park like Kruger, where you can stay in a lodge, do several drives around the park to see wildlife, and have a more assured experience. A longer trip should also take in Cape Town.

So, today I punted. Walked over to the shopping center, had breakfast and dropped off some laundry. Looked into mailing some books home, but too darn expensive—I’ll try it from Europe. Went on over to the big mall, and took in a movie I’d been wanting to see: Around the World in 80 Days. I realized it’s probably already on video at home, but what the heck. It had its entertaining moments, and Jackie Chan action scenes are always fun. There were some cameos, as with the original—was that Kathy Bates playing the Queen of England at the end? This one was fun, but paled against the original. I’ll go do some web site work for the rest of the day, and maybe chill out in the sauna this evening.

All of this serves only to reinforce my aversion to organized tours for travel. Yes, at times they’re a necessary evil, and were necessary here to reach my goals safely. But I’m more convinced than ever that there is much to be said for independent travel. Even more is to be said for cultivating friendships overseas, enjoying these hosts, and then being prepared to generously return the favor when guests come knocking on your door.

Tomorrow, hopefully the Apartheid Museum, then on to Estonia!

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Hired a taxi today to go see the Apartheid Museum, and Museum Africa. Should anyone be thinking about coming, start your visit with Museum Africa, as it gives a good overall view of South Africa and it's history. Take in the Apartheid Museum next, as it gives a more focused and forceful look at the events of the 20th century that brought South Africa to where it is today. The museum is a must-see, a bit remiscent of the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. but more hopeful. I would advise seeing the museum prior to visiting Soweto, as the background here is helpful to understanding better the history of Soweto and what its all about.

Imagine native lands where gold is discovered, lots of it, but of a quality that it is expensive to extract. Imagine then laws that provide an inexpensive labor force to mine this gold, via enforced segregation, poverty and poor education. Imagine foreigners flooding the land during the gold rush, and slowly but methodically taking the reigns of power. Imagine 1.5 million people removed from their homes to make way for suburbs for white people. Imagine the courage to stand up, to spend 27 years in prison, to operate a political party in exile, imagine the courage of children and youth to march in the face of bullets and tanks, and yes, death. Then imagine reconciliation, forgiveness, and leadership from a political party once banned, and imagine everyone pretty well getting along. Not perfect, not yet, but this is South Africa.

Gold, platinum and diamonds have underwritten the economy, as has virtual slave labor. Most of Joburg is much more developed than I would have anticipated; infrastructure is here and is pretty good, save for public transit.

When you visit--and you really should--plan a couple of weeks. Take in the museums and Soweto as I suggest. If several of you come together, rent a car to get around, and take advantage of some of the tours. Visit the national parks and stay at lodges to get some quality bush and wildlife time in. Go on down to Cape Town, as well. Be aware of crime, but don't let it stop you from coming--this place is no more dangerous than, say, Washington, D.C.

My shuttle ride in from the airport, booked at the transportation counter was 240 Rand, at about 6.5 Rand per dollar. The hotel quoted a price of R 360 to go back to the airport today--thanks, no. Called a shuttle service, they priced it at R 175. My driver from earlier in the day (Bobby, nee Boris, of Bulgaria and married to a good Russian wife) was down to R 140 by the end of my time with him. I kept my earlier reservation, and had a fine ride with a white gentleman from Zimbabwe. So, if you come, don't be shy about negotiating for services.

South Africa seems to be off the radar for many U.S. citizens considering travel. It should not be.

Estonia

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Had a brief layover in Prague… ...Czech Republic, I think. All I know is that it's cool, it's rained here, the souvenir t-shirts all have to do with drinking beer, and everyone talks like Ahnold, but the computers in the Air Frnace lounge have fast connections & US keyboards!

Saw a great sign as I entered the international departures area at the Joburg airport. It said "enter at own risk"! (Have I already mentioned this? Jet lag is a worrisome thing) Anyhow, I got a picture and I'll post it when I can.

Something that happened on the flights out of Cairo and Joburg that I've heard about, but have not experienced up to now, is the spraying of insecticides on board. After all the people have gotten on. They announce it, then the stewards and stewardesses zip up and down the aisles holding these small aerosol containers that are set to go off like bug bombs. They claim it's safe and approved by somebody--indeed, it's not very stinky--but I have to think that either it's so weak as to be ineffective, or all those staff members spraying the stuff are going to be filing some major lawsuits in a few years. Likely, it just helps to breed stronger bugs.

On to Tallinn in an hour and a half, then about two weeks without a flight. Looking back over my Lonely Planet guide, though, indicates some pretty long rail journeys ahead. I suspect the distance is less than I covered in Japan or Australia, but the speed will be considerably less. It also appears, from the book, that there could be a snag getting from Vilnius to Krakow. I'll start looking into that now with my friend in Tallinn, and see what can be worked out. I may choose to buy a flight if I have to.

Tallinn looks great, with it's wonderful old town. It will be even better having someone there to help show me around a bit.


Thursday, September 16, 2004

Arrived in Tallinn about 2:30 in the afternoon. Not much to customs, but they did have a nice black dog walking around sniffing suitcases at baggage claim. Looking for illicit doggie treats, no doubt. My friend Steven met me in front of the airport in his new Honda Jazz—something we don’t get in the US. A smallish wagon, probably Civic based. Steven dropped me off at my hotel, I grabbed a shower, and walked around the old town a bit.

Wow! Big stone walls, red tile roofed towers, medieval churches. I visited the newer—to Tallinn—Alexander Nevsky cathedral, a Russian Orthodox church.

Steven picked me up at 6:30 PM, and drove me around the outskirts of Tallinn to see more sights. Especially interesting was the “singing dome”, where hundreds of thousands of Estonians gathered, singing, to demand their freedom from the USSR, which was eventually won. I also saw some of the Soviet-era housing, a very gray monolithic contrast to the beauty of old town. We swung on by the beach at the Baltic Sea and the Bay of Finland, and watched the sunset over the shipyards and old Tallinn.

We found supper at a traditional restaurant, where Steven’s brother Ando joined us. He brought me a big box of Estonian chocolates as a thank you for showing him around the southwest several years ago. My meal was a spicy meatloaf with porridge (what we would call red-eye gravy back home), potatoes and beets. My appetizer was meat jelly (no comment) while Steven got smoked herring.

Had a great night’s sleep at the hotel, and wandered downstairs for breakfast. Big vaulted stone and brick ceiling and archways supporting the old restored building above. Lots of the expected foods, plus one not expected: caviar (also had this on the Czech Air flight in—these guys know how to eat!).

Spent the morning chasing down my ferry ticket to Helsinki for today, and also the bus ticket to Riga. Explored the Vilnius—Krakow connection, and it looks like flying will be the best bet if I want any time in Krakow. Train ride could total 16 hours.

Finally toured more of old Tallinn after a quick lunch in a bakery (it’s my vacation, I’ll eat what I want). It was rainy, so I ducked into churches and museums in between drops. Organists were practicing in several of the churches, including St Olev’s, whose steeple was the tallest structure in the world for several hundred years.

Tallinn has been an important port city for several hundred years, and its political commitment, shall we say, has bounced around because of that. In between periods of independence for the Estonian people, they have been ruled by Sweden, Lithuania and Russia, among others. Their port would not freeze in the winter, where St Petersburg’s would. Most recently, they fell to Russia in 1944 at the end of the second world war, and gained their independence in 1991. They have made great strides since then.

As I write this, I’m logged on to the hotel’s wireless at about $2.00 an hour. It let me upload pictures, but it won’t let me load the Java software to get them on the website—aarrrggh! So, maybe later this morning before the ferry, I can do it standing up from their free computer in the lobby.

I have an appointment in an hour with the dean of the United Methodist seminary here in Tallinn. I have passed by it a couple of times, and will get pictures today. They serve, I believe, all of eastern Europe and Russia. It will be good to learn more about what they are doing.

Then, after lunch, Ando picks me up for the ferry to Helsinki. Until later,

Friday morning, September 17

Tallin has a number of fine museums, including a city art gallery, a museum portraying life in Tallinn leading up to and including the 20th century (the Soviet-era kitchen was perhaps the most interesting display), and the maritime museum ( a plaque outside and display inside memorializes the sinking of the Estonia, a ferry to Helsinki like the one I’ll ride today; several hundred lives were lost).

The cathedrals are astounding. St Olev’s , whose tower was once the tallest structure in the world, had an austere white stucco interior that inspired with it’s soaring interior heights; the Virgin Mary Cathedral held many large carved wooden plaques that seemed to be coats of arms; the Holy Spirit Cathedral and Alexander Nevsky (both orthodox, I think) were the most ornate, with many icons, gold, and other shiny stuff. Each of these were topped with a high dome, painted blue inside with gold gilt stars looking down. The pews in all the cathedrals were short of seat, tall backs set at 90 degree angles from the seats—no sleeping in these pews!

The streets of the old town are cobbled, some leading to dead ends, some with tourist shops and inns, many with tempting restaurants. Buildings range from freshly restored and painted to barely standing; an area near my hotel has been preserved to show aerial bomb damage from 1941. A decrepit building across from St Olev’s indicated that it would be turned into luxury apartments by summer, 2005—I believe it will happen.

I visited the Baltic Methodist Seminary this morning, where I was shown around by the dean, Andros Norak. The seminary has been in existence for 10 years, has about 140 students, and serves Russia and the Baltic states. Their first graduating class was the largest so far, made up of the many lay ministers that had come for formal training. Students pay about 10% of their fees, the remaining is supported through donations. About $1500 would cover a student for a year, an investment that many of us should consider making.

The building is new and beautiful, but is not yet completely furnished, again a need for funding. It is shared with the Tallinna Metodisti Kirik (Tallinn Methodist Church), a congregation of about 700, the largest of the 20 some-odd churches in Estonia. Andros pointed out the spot where the organ will go; he thinks at the current rate of donations, it will take 100 years to purchase.

The building includes a cafeteria, classrooms, a computer room, a library, and dorm rooms. The teacher’s office area is a series of desks in one large room. I stopped in one class, and met the youth leader for the Tallinn church.

Finally got pictures uploaded from the computer in the lobby of my hotel, so things on the web page are up-to-date for now. Typing this on my laptop to upload later, I’m starting to get confused about key location, thanks to the numerous variations from the international keyboards I’ve been using. I can’t wait to get behind the wheel of a car after two months of switching which direction traffic flows…

Friday, September 17, 2004

Ando dropped me off at the ferry terminal, and I was able to check my suitcase once on-board for the 3.5 hour trip over to Helsinki. That made exploring the ship much easier.

What I soon discovered is that there were maybe 12 seats inside for people that were in a non-paying area of the ship. The remainder of the seats--and I bet there were at least several hundred people on board--were in lounges, discos, casinos, restaurants, and the fast food area. I watched one guy in the fast food area dip his spoon in and out of his cup of tea for probably 2 hours, going throught the motions to protect his seat. Fortunately, it was almost pleasant outside, and I spent an hour or more sitting outside and wandering those decks.

It appeared that a primary reason for Finns to visit Tallinn is to go shopping. Beer and vodka must be considerably cheaper there, for that is what made up much of the carry-on luggage. If that wasn't enough, a grocery of sorts in the middle of the ship was packed for most of the voyage with people buying more spirits. They left the ship with hand carts loaded with four, five, six and more cases of their favorite brew or drink.

In the ferry terminal on the Helsinki side, I figured out that only two busses left the terminal, and I would need to change at the main station to get to my hotel. Wrestling my big suitcase on board and showing the map of where my hotel is to the driver, a lady behind me began asking lots of questions using fair english, and offered help in knowing how to get to my destination. She sat down in front of me, next to another stranger, and soon both were looking at maps and making suggestions. I gave them each one of my RTW cards, and they each gave me back their business cards. Pretty soon, the woman said that her husband would be picking her up at the central station, and they would be happy to drop me at the hotel on their way home. I hesitated, played back the previous few minutes of conversation in my mind, and decided to take the chance. We walked a bit from the bus station toward a parking area, and soon a green Citroen rounded the corner with her husband. The car had an infant seat in the back, but no infant, and getting the luggage in was tight, but was accomplished. Sliding into the front seat, I thought I would either be on the receiving end of a great act of kindness, or would be robbed and left for dead within the hour. Happily, the husband soon turned into my hotel driveway, dropped me off, and I said my thank you's and goodbye's.

Amazing kindness, and a risk I would rarely if ever take, but it was a gift I'll remember for a long time to come.

The gods smiled on me further yesterday evening, providing a Thai restaurant around the corner that served green curry chicken (my new addiction). It was interesting to see the name of the Thai restaurant in the window in both our familiar lettering and in cyrillic. The gods smiled further, and provided free wireless internet in my room, making uploads and updates much easier for the next few days.

I've got few plans today--partly because my tour book for Finland is still in the ether of the postal services somewhere, and partly to slow down a bit for the coming five days I'll spend here. I've picked up several good free guides, though, and will get the "Helsinki Card", which will cover my travel and most museum/site fees while I'm in town. So I'll sign out for now, and venture out into the frigid north...


Sunday, September 19, 2004

So, tonight I took a wild hare and thought I'd try the red curry chicken with pineapple. Oh, my gosh! Find me a restaurant in Phoenix that serves this stuff!

Speaking of wild hares--and this will take a bit, so hang on. As I was in the midst of getting a ride to the hotel with a total stranger, she mentioned the other gentleman talking to me on the bus, and said that he was "Hungary". "Hungry?" I replied, being a bit mystified, thinking he seemed reasonably well dressed and shouldn't have to go without a meal. "He is Hungary", she repeated, and then I got it--"Hungarian!" Of course.

As I roam the city, I have spotted a number of Hungarian restaurants, all a bit pricey, and they often serve game meat, including wild boar and--wild hare.

Helsinki reminds me, oddly enough, of Melbourne--lots going on, diverse population, well tended, but no big landmarks like the Sydney Opera House, the pyramids of Giza, or Tallinn's old town. That said, the roads and tramways skirt inlets and lakes, and once on the highway, the region takes on a kind of "Legoland" tidyness. I took in the National Museum yesterday, just up the street from my hotel. Across the street is the Opera House, which I may try to tour before I leave. Whle at once unremarkable, it is a pleasant place in September.

Television is interesting for a while, but CNN needs to tell Richard Quest to turn it down a notch. Picked up a Finnish version of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire", sans Regis Filbin, and also what was maybe a German game show called "Doppleganger" (I don't want to know what that means). It was a cross between Candid Camera and a celebrity look-a-like contest. One scene had a man imitating Pavarotti in a hotel room, demanding services from the hotel staff--not a pretty sight.

I took a bus out of the city today to visit the town of Porvoo, the oldest town in Finland, I think. On a small river, it was very scenic--old wooden houses and buildings, bridges crossing the water, small boats and a few large ones docked at water's edge. A large brick and stone church at the top of the hill in town dominated the older town below. Being Sunday, much of the town was closed, which was ok--I'm not much of a souvenir shopper, and don't want to haul any extra weight around if I can help it.

Going and coming, I spied Moose Crossing signs in several places on the highway, but failed to see any. Forests of birch dominated the undeveloped areas, interspersed with the occasional pine and a few maples already showing fall color. Outcroppings of red and grey granite poke up through the surface every so often, both along the highway and here in Helsinki.

I'll get a few pictures up tonight, and plan to create a "Boats" page off of the "Planes & Trains" page, for Jonathan and Joshua.

I finished supper with some ice cream--without asking, they had topped it with what I finally identified as maple syrup! A nice end to a good day.


Tuesday, September 21, 2004

So, the clouds parted yesterday, so I decided to ride a ferry out to one of the islands featured with the Helsinki Card. Actually a series of islands, Suomenlinna is a huge fortress that was first established in the late 1700's. Ownership of the fort changed along with the political winds, with Finland having been under the jurisdiction of both Sweden and Russia in previous centuries. Today it is a recreation area, with only a small military school remaining there. Otherwise, I spotted an art school, a number of restaurants (Ravintolas), a toy museum, and a museum with a history of the island. Walking around the series of islands--most are connected by bridges--is pleasant, though one is reminded of the sometimes violent history of the place when stumbling upon cannons still facing out to sea. I ate a lunch at the Chapman Ravintola there, and I suspect it was Hungarian. Fish soup to start, with diced potatoes generously pleasant. Main dish, ham and potato casserole, with--yes--boiled potatoes on the side.

Thinking the boat left on the half-hour, I arrived at the dock at 2:02 PM in time to see the ferry about 30 feet out in the water on it's way back to Helsinki. "Missed the boat", I muttered to myself. With an hour now to wait, I wandered over to one more small island, where the military school was established. The treat was seeing men putting down a cobblestone road there: tamping the rocks down into the soil with a hammer, another worker with a long four by four doing more tamping to get it all reasonably level, then a very course sand poured in around it all. Hard work.

Back at the dock in the ferry shelter, a gentleman (well, not really, as you will see) sat next to me, with a large new looking blue bag. Pretty soon, he pulled a wine bottle out of the bag and took a good drink. Then, a tobacco bag, and he rolled his own cigarette. Looking at me, he asked me to watch the bag for him while he went for a smoke. By the time he came back, I had struck up a conversation with two ladies from New Jersey who had just arrived on a tour. The gentleman, now drinking from a beer bottle, intruded on our conversation, asking where we were from, then saying "America--yes!", making a fist and smiling. Then he wanted to shake our hands. I waved him off, as did the ladies. He got the message and wandered off.

I ran into the ladies of couple of more times, at both the Russian Orthodox church and at the huge Lutheran church on the main square in Helsinki. The Lutheran church was as stark as the Russian church was ornate. The only thing close to an icon in the former was a statue of Martin Luther. I was a little amused at the lady with the pink streak in her hair at the Russian church, carrying a Marilyn Monroe handbag. Both churches sat on high places, seeming to be in competition with each other. The Russian was certainly more ornate in and out, but the Lutheran church wins the contest for it's visibility from most of Helsinki and from out at sea.

I had spied Mama Rosa's Ravintola on a square behind the hotel, and noticed the menu said something about "smoked reindeer". I couldn't resist. So, prior to my pizza last night, I had the pasta & smoked reindeer appetizer. The waiter had a knowing smile, seeming to say that this was not going to be another chewy kangaroo pie (see Australia). Oh my--Santa, I have sinned! Switches and coal for me this Christmas! It was so good! Kind of a cross between bacon bits and chipped beef, with a calamari-shaped pasta, gentle creamy tomato sauce and a big slice of mushroom on top.
I would order it again!


Made a run out to the airport this morning to pick up my LOT Polish Airlines ticket for my flight from Vilnius to Krakow. Rained all day. Made my way back to the Helsinki Auto Museum, way off the beaten path near one of the industrial dock areas. It was really a highlight of my time here. Over 3000 miniature/model cars, and maybe three or four dozen of the real thing, all crammed in tightly together. Saw an old Mercedes 220S like we used to have (1961 model), a Trabant, some sort of three wheeler, a Vespa three wheel mini-mini van, a neat little rear-engine Renault, a couple of Morris's, and my favorite, a 1952 Citroen--look for it on my Finland Photo's page! Best of all, the gentleman in charge today was having a very slow day with the rain, so he locked the door, walked around with me, and told me stories about many of the cars (I got this Kaiser Frazer up to 80 racing a bus, but was afraid of the tires. A young couple in Britain moving to Moscow sold us this Morris Minor--they've promised to stop in some day to tell it "hi"). The museum is owned by a foundation, and hopes to get a larger space closer to downtown someday. They have a few cars, notably Rolls Royces--I saw them in a photo album--that get rented out for weddings, but are too large to get into the current building. All the cars run and are occasionally driven, as demonstrated by the photos--here they are in the filming of a period movie, here driving war veterans to a reception at the Continental Hotel (where I'm staying!). If you're ever in Helsinki, this is a museum worth finding.

Hit a few other museums, one of which was closed for no good reason. I stopped by the Tram Museum just before returning to the hotel--a fun stop! And, next to it, was the building they house and work on all the running trams.

Tried another Thai place tonight, and while good, I was disappointed. Not as much taste, and what taste existed was overpowered by the hot spice. The secret, I think, must be in how generous they are with their coconut milk--I'm sure a fairly rare commodity here in Finland!

Tomorrow, the ferry back to Tallin, coffee with Steven at the port, a bus to Riga and the train to Jurmala. I expect updates will be more difficult to get posted in the coming week.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

The ferry ride from Helsinki to Tallinn was uneventful, outside of it being canceled. Luckily, they had another an hour later, and I still made my bus. Just was sorry to miss that extra hour of sleep, and was sorry to miss my coffee with Steven.

The bus turned out of the ferry terminal, passing Fat Margaret, the city gates, the opera house, auditorium, and other sites I had become familiar with in Tallinn. There must be money in Tallinn, because we also passed a new Maserati coupe.

Heading south, I watched the man in the seat across from me try to find a comfortable position while reading his worn-out paperback translation of an Agatha Christie novel. Rain came off and on, precluding much picture-taking from inside the bus. Not much in the way of population between Tallinn and Parnu, only the occasional farm house, the old man carrying an empty bucket back from his cow, the woman in a dress, overcoat and scarf pushing a wagon.

Parnu was large enough to rate a Mercedes dealership, but we seemed to skirt just one edge of it. It was, like Tallinn, also polluted with the ugly Soviet-era apartment blocks on the edges of the city, though these seemed more worn and mildewed.

The border crossing was pretty uneventful, save for the rowdies in the rear of the bus who raised an eyebrow with the border patrol. What bits of the conversation I picked up, I would guess they had just come off of several months on a ship. I've learned that being a US citizen rather than an EU citizen slows you down at the borders. The lady had to take my passport back into the station to stamp and perhaps register. The EU citizens were just looked at and given back promptly.

Coming through Latvia, I realized quickly that the roads were in worse shape, and the Soviet-style buildings were even more present. Coming into Riga was one of the saddest city entrances I've had: mile after mile of neglected flats, grey skies, a country still seeming to be reeling from 60 years of Soviet occupation.

The Occupation Museum in the old town tells the story, and it's not pretty. Occupied by the Soviet Union, "liberated" by the Nazi's, ceded back to the Soviets (along with Estonia and Lithuania) after World War II when the west didn't have the backbone to stand up to Stalin. The USSR decimated any kind of leadership and resistance in the population here, and their presence was catastrophic to the people their culture and economy. Finally set at liberty following the 1991 coup attempt in Moscow. 500,000 Latvians were killed, deported or fled; the population is now 1/3 to 1/2 Latvian, the rest Russian. Many sent to gulags in Siberia, then their homes taken over by Russians sent here to work. You would think after 45 years they would have been beaten, but at one point near their day of freedom a line of people joined hands from Tallinn to Riga to Vilnius to show solidarity and demand liberty. I'm retracing that road, by accident, and let me tell you, it's a long way and a whole lot of people.

Getting into old Riga today was a sunnier experience. Riga is not nearly as far along in their recovery as Tallinn, but I spotted an Aston Martin this afternoon, plates JB007. Another sign that money is in town. I'm staying out at Jurmala (yur'mala}, an old resort area that served the Soviets and is slowly being refurbished. Thankfully, my hotel is one of the places that has been redone. The town spreads up the coast for maybe 15 miles, mostly old wooden houses that were pretty grand in their day. Reminds me a bit of Lakeside, Ohio on Lake Erie.

A cold wind is blowing here off of the Baltic Sea, and it tempts me to curtail my site seeing. I'm going to hop the tram back to Jurmala, though, and walk over the the ocean and around town a bit before calling it a day.

Tomorrow, the bus to Vilnius. I hope to upload some pictures from there.

Friday, September 24, 2004

Rode the tram back into Riga this morning, then caught my bus south to Vilnius. Heading south out of town, we passed a draconian building that could only be attributed to Stalin. Very similar by sight to the seven (ugly) sisters in Moscow--seven identical buildings around one of the rings in Moscow, all build by Stalin, all very forboding looking.

The busses here have seat assignments that are sometimes enforced. Two young people who were friends sat in front of me when they realized their assignments were in separate rows. Pretty soon, a "Mr Cool" type who had been outside squeezing his girlfriend got on, and insisted they move because he wanted the window seat, which was his assignment. Jeans, black muscle shirt under white striped dress shirt, black denim jacket with the white collar out over the jacket collar--disco style! Wore sunglasses the whole trip, even when raining. Bobbed head up and down in rythm to unknown music emanating from ear buds.

We stopped in several small towns on both sides of the border to pick up and drop off people. Just over the border--this time we had a dog sniff his way through the bus--we stopped at a log cabin roadside restaurant. Wonderful hand carved stuff around--I'll post a picture or two.

Another hour down the road, Mr Cool apparently had too much to drink at lunch, and headed for the WC on the bus, which was not in service that day. I confess to smiling to myself as he squirmed in his seat until the next stop.

In Vilnius, I noticed a young lady in a bus next to us making a disgusted expression at our bus, and I realized Mr Cool had mouthed or motioned something to her. She then avoided looking at our bus altogether. A bit later, we passed a bus with some maybe 13 year old school children, and pretty soon all the girls were waving and smiling at Mr Cool. I'm sure his girlfriend would have been impressed.

Getting off the bus, I tripped Mr Cool and watched him scrape his face and pretty white shirt across the muddy pavement--no, not really, but it's nice to think about...

Trouble finding the right tram, so I grabbed a cab--about $3.00 US to the hotel--well worth it.

Vilnius, what I've seen so far, is a great city! They're wide awake and have embraced their new day. Old buildings are restored and look great, the ugly apartment blocks have been updated with architectural features and color, the people walk around with a sense of purpose that I rarely saw in Riga. There is a concert of Lithuanian composers by the National Symphony tomorrow evening, and I'm going to try to grab tickets. I'm looking forward to my day tomorrow!


Saturday, September 25, 2004

Did I mention that when I arrived at my hotel, the street was gone? Fenced in, dug up, five to ten feet deep in places. A short walk down the sidewalk from where the cab dropped me to the hotel, so not a problem--just amusing! And, the street is being restored beautifully--the old buildings made to look new. It will be even better when the street work is done.

I'm trying hard to think that I didn't care for Riga because of the weather--grey, cold, bitter wind coming off the Gulf of Riga. But no, it was a deeper greyness that was lingering from the Soviet era: progress had been made, yes, but the decay and devastation was everywhere you looked. Symbolic of what I found there was the one english sign in the train station, posted at the information desk at I time I most needed assistance. It read: "We do not have any information on trains. We do not give out tourist information." An information booth in the train station--what other kinds of information could they be asked to dispense?

Riga should still be on a list of cities to visit, but it will be more enjoyable in five or ten years. Focus your time on Tallinn and Vilnius.

Vilnius! What a pleasant surprise! Yes, the sun was shining most of the day, and blue skies were in the majority over the clouds. But everything here besides the weather is welcoming, as well. The many churches in town all had their doors open, except one or two that were under renovation. Even those in poor condition on the outside were resplendent on the inside. The Russian Orthodox church had the relics of three 14th century martyrs front and center in the sanctuary, with their stocking and felt slipper covered feet sticking out from under a blue felt blanket, all under glass. The priest was dissuading tourists from taking pictures there, for what I think was good reason. The inside of the church was incredibly ornate, painted in both pastels and bold greens, gold gilt accenting everything, soaring light dome floating above the relics.

The Dominican church was much less ornate, but had a well adorned altar area. Nice transluscent white linen banners hung from above; the organist was rehearsing a piece with a small group of strings: sublime. The church during Soviet times had been gutted, all interior furnishings trashed or sold, and the building used to store grain.

Each of these cities has boasted a television center, each with a similar sad story to tell. As each of these Baltic republics made their quest for freedom, Soviet troups would head for the television studios in order to take over the airwaves and prevent news of rebellion from being broadcast. Ten to fifteen people were killed trying to defend each of these broadcast centers.

I hiked up to both the Upper Castle and to the Hill of Three Crosses. I'll post pictures of both. The three crosses had been bulldozed during the Soviet occupation; the remains of these monuments are preserved and memorialized just down the hill from the new crosses which have replaced them.

Sadly, there seemed to be more beggars here than other places. None seemed threatening as they might have been in Riga, where they seemed to travel in groups of two or three. Here, sadly, I've seen several children playing instruments on the street (today is Saturday) seeking money, and yesterday evening, a teenager on crutches asking "please help me".

Old town here is also a World Heritage site--I think the old towns in Tallinn and Riga are as well. Lots of narrow cobbled streets to wander, and it seemed that at each church this afternoon, weddings were taking place. I saw one couple being driven through town in what was probably a 1930's Mercedes convertible--he was going to fast for me to get my camera out, though! A great car, and a happy couple.

I started the day seeking out the Frank Zappa memorial, which wasn't too far from my hotel. I had a bit of trouble finding it, and happened on a large building that was probably military in the Soviet era, surrounded by an outdoor market of military decorations and other odds and ends. Working my way around this area, I said "Frank Zappa" to several younger looking people, and all I got were blank stares. Further down the street, I spotted some young people moving out of a flat, and asked if anyone spoke english. One stepped forward, and I asked again. "Oh yes, Frank Zappa. Just take a left here, and he's two hundred meters down the street on the left.

Tonight, the Lietuvos Nacionaline Filharmonija, row 7, seat 18. Tomorrow morning, LOT airlines to Krakow via Warsaw. More later.

Sunday, September 26, 2004

I attended the Lithuanian National Philharmonic last night, and had a wonderful evening. Only one of the three pieces was by a Lithuanian composer, rather than all. Edwin Geist, a Jew, had fled nazi Germany when he was forbiddent to compose. He died three years later in 1942, murdered. His piece was reminiscent of Shostokovich: here memories of national folk tunes, there seeming mockery of the government, disturbing yet interesting--surely reflecting what was happening in his world.

A solo pianist, Petras Geniusas played a Schumann piano concerto with the orchestra. The lady sitting next to me was the pianists neighbor--she had known him some forty years, and was daily treated to his music wafting through the neighborhood. At the intermission, those not lined up for drinks were promenading with their spouse or partner around the upstairs lobby balustrade--a wonderful tradition!

Following the intermission, the orchestra present Saint-Saens Symphony no. 3, "Organ", one of my favorites. They played it very well, if occasionally with a martial sense of rythm. The director, Juozas Domarkas, had a sensitive hand and knew his orchestra and the music. His appearance was that of P.D.Q. Bach, albeit with heavy eyeglasses.

The hall was smaller than I had expected, and had been renovated several years ago. Last night was the opening night of the season and was nearly sold out. They were also inaugurating a new Steinway grand piano for the hall. The people of Vilnius and Lithuania have much to be proud of in their national orchestra.

The cab picked me up at the edge of the construction zone at 6:45 this morning. Looking at the odometer, I saw that his newish model Mercedes had 645,000 kilometers on it--I calculate it right at 400,000 miles, if what I saw was correct. The morning was hazy, and we flew out in heavy fog. Warsaw was clearer, but there was again haze landing in Krakow.

I had a pleasant and not so pleasant experience on the way to the hotel. Taxis had doubled their fees for Sunday, so I took the bus in at an easy $1.85. On the way, passing homes adjacent to the airport with chickens and roosters loose in the yards, a number of people got on the bus clearly on their way home from Mass. When an elderly lady got on (I was standing with my luggage the entire way), a young man instantly got up and gave her his seat. I was deeply impressed.

What wasn't impressive was receiving misinformation from the information kiosk regarding using my bus ticket for a transfer onto the tram. A $20 fine later for not having a proper tram ticket, I was not feeling so welcome in Krakow. I could say a lot more, but I won't. Still steaming at 2:30 in the afternoon, I did what any rational person would do: sat down for coffee and ice cream.

Every city's cathedrals seem to outdo the last, and Krakow is no exception. St Mary's Basilica was beyond words: deep blue ceiling broken by golden stars, gigantic crucifix in place beneath the joining of two vaults, everything covered in artwork and gold. Next door, a much smaller church was lined inside with scaffolding, the ceiling obscured by a rough wood floor suspended above. A harpsicord was rehearsing with a flute and violin: disjointed and disarray at first, but ending with sublime music. I saw a second church lined with scaffolding as well. Ten years plus out, there is still much work to do.

The interior of St Francis was at once a smaller replica of St Mary's, but was done in an art nouveau that through dark was refreshing. The stained glass windows are in the same stye, and are world famous. Most interesting was a side chapel that contained a Shroud of Turin. Note that I saw "a" Shroud of Turin--a search of the internet indicates the famous shroud is safely tucked away in Turin (home to Fiat) and won't be seen again publicly until 2025. I did find reports of a second shroud turning up in Czechoslovakia several years ago, a perfect copy of the original. Perhaps this is the same one, but I have been unable to find any solid information on it.

This city has it's share of accordian players. Maybe it's just because it's Sunday, but they were on many street corners. Many played the classical piece that Barry Manilow used a snippet of to open "Could this be the Magic at Last". (Anyone correctly naming the classical piece gets a free cd of "Stefan plays Manilow") Most impressive was the gentleman playing Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor, a big pipe organ piece, with convincing accuracy--did Bach really compose it for the accordian?

Arranged my train ticket to Nysa for tomorrow, where I'll see Ewa Michalek Drobic and her family. Plans are for me to speak to her english class on Tuesday--that should be a lot of fun!

Readers may have noticed that up to now, I've taken busses through eastern Europe rather than trains. It has not really been by choice: most destinations are better served now by busses than trains. I'm guessing that the trains remain government-owned and have lacked for an infusion of funds, meaning aged Soviet era equipment. The busses are owned and operated by private companies, are modern, timely and comfortable, and are turning a profit here. We'll see how the train ride goes tomorrow.

Had a knock on the door as I began writing: a maid bringing house slippers, more bathroom goodies, and a chocolate that melted in my mouth. This five-star stuff is good.

I didn't think I could recommend Krakow earlier today, but I must. It dodged the bombs of WWII, though suffered the same indignities of communist rule. The old town is a treasure, as are the old towns of Tallinn, Riga, and Vilnius. All are worth seeing, and their stories are ones that we need to hear. Auschwitz is near here. A park in Vilnius was renamed "the killing fields" after a KGB mass grave was found there several years ago. Abandoned watch towers loomed over the railroad tracks out of Riga. Perhaps I experienced a vestige of the Soviet era today. Krakow is magnificant, and we are fortunate it is here for us to enjoy and explore.


Monday, October 04, 2004

I took a taxi to the train station in Krakow, rather than try and lug my suitcase on and off a couple of trams. The Sheraton offered their own cabs, new Mercedes, but the price was double or triple a regular local cab, so I called for one of those. I’m sure the ride I had was more exciting than I would have enjoyed in the luxo car! The train arrived and left promptly and was reasonably comfortable, though I would date the cars to the 1960’s or earlier. I grabbed a compartment in the non-smoking end of a car, and shared it with one man who said almost nothing, and another who spoke some English, was from Romania, and was traveling to Warsaw to work on a Master’s degree in computer science.

There were about a dozen young men in our car finishing their term in the army and heading home. By ten in the morning, the beer was flowing, and they were standing in the hall outside our compartment smoking, throwing cigarette butts and beer cans out the window. They returned to their compartment, grew louder and louder, then began singing. Others on the train seemed embarrassed by them, and by the time I got off in Opole to change trains, they were hanging out the windows yelling at people and singing. I was glad to be changing trains.

The train from Opole to Nysa was older—maybe the 1940’s or 1950’s, maybe earlier—and was slow. We left about 50 minutes late: I was beginning to think I had crossed a time zone, but the departure was simply and inexplicably delayed. It felt like we never exceeded 30 mph, and stopped at a number of boarded up brick railway stations to pick up and drop off passengers. One stop was in the middle of an open field that had been recently planted, no buildings in sight save for a metal shed open on one side to shelter waiting passengers. Nysa lies in the south of Poland maybe 20 kilometers north of the Czech Republic, and mountains in that neighboring country can be seen in the distance.

Upon my arrival, my friend Ewa (Eva, like Gabor) was there to greet me. We returned to her apartment building, lugging my suitcase up the steps to the top floor. The inside was nicely decorated and comfortable, and they had prepared both some chicken noodle soup and a Polish dish made of cabbage, meat and spices (vigo?) for lunch. There, I got to meet Ewa’s husband Urich, an ambulance driver who is studying to be a paramedic, and their two year old daughter Marta.

After our lunch, we drove to the center of Nysa to visit their 1,000 year old cathedral and to tour the city center. The cathedral was beautiful, and boasted the steepest or second steepest roof of any cathedral in Europe. It too had been bombed out in the Second World War and rebuilt. About half of the buildings in the center were original, the rest built in the last few decades. Nysa looked like a town that people enjoyed living in and taking care of: Soviet era buildings painted with bright colors, flowers planted and tended, people sweeping the sidewalks, shops proudly displaying their wares. We headed to supper in a restaurant located in the basement of an older building, full of ambience, heavy wooden beams, and a fireplace. We enjoyed soup in bread bowls, and a Polish beer made with apples, perhaps what we would call “hard cider”.

That evening, I enjoyed sitting with their daughter Marta on their couch, holding a Polish children’s book and having her tell me what the animals were.

The next day, I visited the school the Ewa teaches at, sitting in on one of her English lessons, then talking to four classes of high school aged students. The school is named “Carolinum”, began as a Jesuit school, and is 400 years old. When we entered the first class, all of the students stood because their teacher was entering the room—very impressive! My first question from a student was “Have you seen Fahrenheit 911, and if so, what did you think of it?”. It was the most important question I received that day, and a variation of the question I have been asked everywhere on this journey. People around the world are afraid of our President and the administration that is in power in our country, and are deeply concerned about what another four years would bring.

A question that I wished I had answered better was from the young man that said that he had heard that Polish women were the most beautiful in the world, and asked if I agreed. A loaded question for sure, but I wish I had said more in regards to the beauty of a person that lies within, and how looking only at the exterior can turn people into objects.

The school building was fantastic, with vaulted ceilings in the hallway, a library that looked like a room out of Oxford, and an auditorium that could have been a small concert hall in Vienna. I did ask one group what their greatest challenge or concern as young people in Poland was, and they instantly replied “jobs”. Most of the factories in Nysa have closed in the past few years, and unemployment there is soaring. Their main hope seems to lie in their participation in the European Union, and their soon to be received right to look for jobs in other countries.

Ewa left me to explore Nysa for another hour or so while she wrapped up at school. Meeting me at the cathedral with Marta in tow, she drove me out to their lake, and then to her father’s house. It was great to meet him—he and Ewa seem to be cut out of the same cloth, and he obviously enjoyed his granddaughter very much. He had been a carpenter, and examples of his handiwork were throughout his home. We then met Urich at the hospital, where he enjoyed showing off his ambulance. More than that, he obviously enjoyed setting two year old Marta in the driver’s seat and turning the lights on.

That evening, they prepared some more traditional Polish food for me, including stuffed cabbage and some wonderful Polish bread. We had a nice visit with Magda, one of Ewa’s co-teachers, watched a video about Nysa, and watched part of “Shrek” in Polish—it seemed pretty natural!

The next morning, Urich drove me into Opole to catch the bus, worried that the train from Nysa could again be delayed and I would miss my connection. We shouldn’t have worried—the bus arrived 30 minutes after our departure time, and we lost another 30 minutes in road construction. Miraculously, we arrived in Warsaw only a few minutes late, making me think that train and bus schedules there involve a fair amount of fiction and creativity. Plan accordingly. Ewa had generously prepared me a wonderful lunch for me to enjoy on the way, including sandwiches, fruit, juice, and a traditional salad made with egg, carrots, and other good stuff. I caught a cab to the airport, arriving well before the time Air France opened their counter for flight check-in.

Poland was a fine country to visit, and I was very fortunate to have friends to help host me for part of my visit. My visit to Nysa was a highlight, especially to stay in a home, visit a school, and see a town that is off the radar screen of American tourists. It once again reinforced my interest in visiting out-of-the-way places that most tourists don’t get to. The word I get from Ewa on the trains is that many more people own cars now, and so the call for trains is declining, and with it the number of trains and connections available. I have to wonder if they’ll enjoy a revival there and will match the service available in western Europe, or if the trains in the Baltics and parts south will die out all together. On my way out, Urich drove me through several more scenic towns en-route to Opole, and each would be worth spending some time in. So, get going, get out there and explore!

Saturday, October 09, 2004

VW Golf Wagon from Nysa to Opole, courtesy of Urich. Late bus from Opole to Warsaw. Hopped off a bit earlier than the central station, and caught a cab to the Warsaw airport—at rush hour, of course. Arrived at the airport with time to spare, and had to wait for the Air France counter to open in order to check in. Only LOT Polish airlines seems to have a lot of counters there; all others are shared by various airlines depending on the time of day and when flights are scheduled.

Air France from Warsaw to Paris, and then from Paris to Sao Paulo/Guarulhos. Got through passport control and customs, found the TAM (Portuguese airline) counter, and picked up my boarding pass for the trip to Porto Allegre, where I would then get a shuttle to Gramado. Rechecked the bag—after shifting lots of heavy stuff into my day pack because of the domestic weight restriction on luggage—went back through security and waited on the TAM flight. First, a delay, then our plane is at another gate, then another delay, and we board a Varig plane, code-sharing with TAM. Once on board, they announce an “operational delay”, and then come on and say that the pilot has a “health problem” and cannot fly. Hmmm. A substitute pilot is on the way. Indeed, he or she is and we’re on our way in another 10 minutes, but now 90 minutes late.

My friend Alex had e-mailed me the details for the Sao Paulo-Porto Allegre-Gramado run, which he had kindly worked out for me with his travel agency, but the e-mail was lost in cyberia. Things were in place with TAM, so I was feeling ok, but had no idea of the name of the tour company that would take me on to Gramado. Indeed, arriving in Porto Allegre, no one was holding up a sign to greet me. Thankfully, they had a wonderful staff at the information booth in the Porto Allegre airport, and Lucas, who had spent two years in New Jersey as a child and spoke passable English, took care of me. First we walked outside to check the various shuttles, but learned nothing. Back inside, he soon found a driver that was supposed to take two people to the Hotel Serrano in Gramado—my hotel!—but he didn’t know his passenger’s names. A match made in heaven. Soon, I was in the van heading out of the city and up into the mountains of southern Brazil. By the time we arrived at the hotel two hours later, the driver had confirmed that I was indeed supposed to be one of his riders!

An easy check-in at the hotel, a pleasant surprise with a large, luxurious room, a hot shower, and then I went looking for my friends. I found Iveli in the lobby with her and Alex’s daughter Giulia, we left a message for Alex, and headed for lunch. Alex is an orthopedic pediatrician, and an especially good one. He was there for a conference and had some obligations to fulfill during our time there. We had lunch at a café in town (ham & cheese crepes with the national soft drink, guarana), and ran into Alex on the way back to the hotel.

Gramado is a fascinating town; it and its surrounding state, Rio Grande del Sud completely evaded inclusion in my Frommer’s guide to Brazil. The region received many German immigrants during and after World War II, both Jew and likely Nazi. The town is in the mountains, gets a little snow in the winter, and looks more like something out of Bavaria or Switzerland than Latin America as most imagine it. Think Gatlinburg, Tennessee with less commercialism, lots less cars, more tasteful architecture, all with a Brazilian twist and you get the idea.

My time in Gramado is already a blur. Eat, go site seeing. Eat some more, go for a walk. Eat yet more. And more. Brazilians love to eat, and much good conversation happens around the table. They also happen to enjoy very, very good food. One night it was all-you-can-eat steak at a bar-b-que, where you return with your plate to the grill again and again to sample the succulent meats. Another it was fondue, with a small griddle on our table to cook the various kinds of meat, finishing up with a chocolate fondue to dip fruit and cookies in. A breakfast buffet each morning in the hotel with tropical fruits and juices, crepes, meats, cheeses, yogurts, breads, and the best coffee of the entire trip. Then the afternoon of fijwada (very bad spelling here), where you get rice, black beans, some kale, and then meat. Alex was showing me the meats, all stewing in soup pots: these are ribs, this is sausage, this is foot, this is loin, this is ear, this is another sausage. He failed to point out the pig’s tongue; I knew after one bite that it was not something I wanted…

One afternoon we drove out to a park and hiked down 600+ steps to a beautiful waterfall, and then of course, back up. Near the top, we watched wild monkeys playing in the trees. Another day, another park, this with a deep gorge carved by a river, magnificent cliffs, hawks soaring and screaming, trees with yellow blossoms, purple blossoms, red blossoms; cotemunde congregating and circling near a picnic table, sniffing up to tourists with ringed tails in the air. Then a steam museum in Canela, with small replica steam engines demonstrating the production of goods a hundred years earlier; a full-size steam train engine dangling out the upstairs window to the ground in front replicating an historic—and spectacular—train wreck in Paris. A classic car museum, cathedrals, a chocolate factory (strawberry’s dipped in white chocolate!), then Papa Noel, a kind of Santa Claus land on the top of the mountain with spectacular views. A new “alpine slide”, a German-designed sled ride on aluminum tracks down the mountain and over a cascading stream, kind of a one or two person roller coaster. Evenings were capped off with a soak in the warm pool and a snack of cookies my friend Ewa had sent from Poland.

Gramado is a first-class town and a fun place to visit: many fine restaurants and hotels, beautiful state parks with amazing natural features, beautiful flora and fauna. It eludes me why Frommer’s would neglect the entire region—maybe they just didn’t make it down that far. It’s well worth your time for a fascinating look at another side of Brazil.

Next: Sao Paulo!

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Elections were happening in Brazil the morning we left the Hotel Serrano and Gramado. Gramado had been alive all week with people waving white or red flags for candidates on street corners and cars driving through town with megaphones blaring. This morning, our bus stopped at a polling place and left a number of people there to vote. Voting is mandatory in Brazil; one must either have a very good excuse filed with authorities for missing a vote, or lose a number of rights and privileges.

Finally on our way, our bus wound back down the mountains to Porto Allegre and the airport. Boarding a real TAM flight this time, we were back to Sao Paulo within an hour and a half. Even in coach seats, both TAM and Varig retain complimentary meal service. On arrival in Brazil, I flew to Porto Allegre from Guadulhos, the international airport I had flown into from Warsaw and Paris. We flew back to the smaller Sao Paulo airport that only handles domestic flights. Surrounded by the city, we were a quick and cheap cab ride through the rain to Alex and Iveli’s condo.

We quickly settled in, then walked down the street to vote. Their polling station was at a Jewish school, the signs and in each room written in both Portuguese and Hebrew. Sao Paulo is a city of immigrants; in addition to Europeans immigrants and refugees from World War II, there was also a large asian community, with Sao Paulo maintaining the largest Japanese population of any city outside of Japan. Votes cast, we walked to a nearby grocery, where I admired the fruits and vegetables that would be considered exotic in my Safeway.

Sao Paulo is the largest city in all of latin America, and is the third largest city in the world. There is some thought that it will become the largest city on the planet within an other twenty years or so. Going up in a skyscraper in the middle of the city, all one can see is buildings in every direction, to the edge of the skyline. Sao Paulo contains many different districts and neighborhoods, many reflecting the unique culture of those particular inhabitants. It is a city of both astounding wealth and devastating poverty. It has beautiful parks, though perhaps not as many as the population deserves. It has a fine subway system, well maintained streets, and sane driving compared to Cairo. Sao Paulo is rediscovering it’s city market, with the building being beautifully renovated, a restaurant level being added, merchants offering the best meats, produce, spices and cheese, and long forgotten stained-glass windows being uncovered and once again shown off.

That night—and again, things are already running together—we dined at a gourmet pizza restaurant, one of three Italian restaurants in one fine block all run by the Mancini family. Here there is valet parking, doting service, a generous buffet (including meats, cheeses and breads beyond our typical salad bar) and a grand piano to complete the ambience.
Fine wine, great pizza, and good company.

My friends Alex and Iveli are both doctors, had missed several days of work for the conference in Gramado, and were preparing to be off again in a couple of weeks to take their daughter Giulia to a swim meet in Rio de Janeiro (tough life, huh?). So, there were days Alex or Iveli would escort me around, others that Luis, Alex’s brother would be my tour guide, and one or two that I was on my own. Breakfast at their place each morning consisted of cereal, juice, fruits (mango and papaya) and my favorite, Romeo and Juliet (guava jam and a kind of cream cheese on toast). For dinner one evening, Alex did fondue, using a delicious combination of cheeses and breads.

The first day was with Luis, who took me to the Biannual Art Show. The Biannual is modern art at its finest and weirdest, and is a perfect fit with Sao Paulo’s modern architecture. One the first floor alone were quilted, three-dimensional cities; an undulating stack of pencil-shaped logs with large, inexplicable and seemingly unsupported holes in the middle of the stack; and my favorite, a Volkswagen Beetle (old style) suspended by a few hundred bungee cords, swinging and twirling with the artist’s gentle prodding. Much of the art—gathered from around the world--made you think, and after an hour or so our heads were swimming.

The rest of the day was spent touring the university Luis had attended (he is now a plastic surgeon), stopping by his condo for coffee and to meet his new dog (Shar-pei from Tibet), lunch (lighter Italian, salad and pasta buffet), and some time at his office where I was treated to an aqua-massage (much like the ones offered in our malls in the U.S.).

Iveli met me that evening and took me to their club. Over one hundred years old, this club sits on prime real estate in central Sao Paulo and is a grandiose version of a U.S. country club, albeit without the golf course. Tennis courts, tracks, swimming pools, gymnasiums, classrooms, game rooms, meeting rooms, a bowling alley, restaurant, café, underground parking structure—it has to be large, as 60,000 people hold membership. We walked across the street to visit Iveli’s parents—long-ago Italian immigrants to Brazil—and later back to the club to meet Giulia after her ballet lessons and swim practice. We had a delightful visit with Iveli’s folks, who I had met a decade earlier. Her father is a retired lawyer and aspiring artist, and is quite a character. Her mother speaks little English but creates some wonderful desserts.

Other days were filled with museums: the MASP (Museum of Art Sao Paulo), filled with Monets, Manets, Renoirs, Delacroixs, Van Goghs and more; the Museu Paulista (Ipiranga Museum), built as a monument to the Proclamation of Independence; and the Pinacoteca, across from the refurbished railway station (it’s Victorian architecture looking all the world identical to the one in Melbourne, Australia), this one filled with Brazilian works, both modern and not. Alex and I enjoyed a latte outside the museum café, coffee being integral to everyday Brazilian life.

Then the parks: the one featuring live, wild monkeys was closed the day we went, but we visited several other nice, smaller parks, all resplendent with native trees and flowers, ponds, lakes, walkways and soccer fields. The largest park in the city is where the Biannual art exhibit was held. Rivaling Central Park in New York City, it is adorned with lakes, fountains, grassy expanses and outstanding monuments. In between the parks were stops for coconut milk, served fresh out of a machete-sliced coconut, various foods (have you had a cheese bread yet? You must try it!), and coffee.

Other explorations included downtown Sao Paulo; a trip to the top of the tallest building in the city; lunch at the marketplace (pastels, fried pastries filled with meats or cheeses); and Avenida Paulista, a central street hosting stores, shopping malls and the fanciest McDonalds I saw on the whole trip; and their version of Rodeo Drive, featuring a Tiffany’s, Versace and more.

An evening party saw members from both Alex and Iveli’s family in for the evening. It was great to see Alex’s father again, his other siblings, as well as Iveli’s parents, siblings and spouses. We had picked up 4-foot long sub sandwiches—with a Brazilian flair—at a gourmet grocery earlier, wonderful desserts were brought in, and Alex plied his family with the Vana Tallinn that I had brought him from Estonia (essentially Baltic cough syrup).

The week ended back in Guarulhos, where Alex has a clinic, where his father retains his home, where his brother Marco runs a business, and where my flight would depart from. We went over in the afternoon to beat rush hour traffic, and ran into Marco, his wife and another brother, Marcello, at the house in Gualulhos. While Alex was at work, I explored Gualulhos a bit, and enjoyed being back at the house where my mother, brother and I had stayed during our visit ten years earlier. Designed by a famous architect, it was much as I remembered, but quieter and sadder since both Alex’s mother and my own had passed away in the previous year. A fond memory from our visit ten years ago was coming down for breakfast and seeing the two of them chatting away at the kitchen table, making hand motions at each other, neither understanding the other’s language.

Alex picked me up and took me to see his clinic, then over to a shopping mall for supper. We ended with ham and cheese crepes, the same meal I enjoyed with Iveli and Giulia when I had arrived in Gramado. We finished up with desert crepes made with Romeo and Juliet, explored the mall a bit, then headed to the airport.

Brazil was a great place to finish up the international portion of my trip. Brazil is a delightful country, filled with wonderful sights, food and people, made all the better by gracious hosts. Alex and Iveli are wonderful friends, and I feel fortunate to have known Alex for nearly 30 years. Alex and Iveli have kindly urged me to return to see both Bahia and the Amazon. In a few years, for sure, I’ll have to take them up on the offer.

Sunday, October 17, 2004

The business class lounge in the Guadulhos airport is after passport control but before the metal detectors. I learned this after passing through all the security stuff, and so opted to hang out in the gate area rather than to go through security one more time.

The flight was uneventful, but the change from the quality of service of Korean Air and Air France to Delta was too obvious. The quality of food served was lower, and the staff, while courteous, felt more like fast food workers than fine dining. A couple hours in Atlanta, onto a smaller plane to Lexington, and the official flights of my RTW came to an end. Waiting in baggage claim for me were my two nephews, their baby sitter and her husband, who were kind enough to meet me while my brother was in D.C. on business.

I hadn’t slept much on the flight, and napped off and on that day at my brother’s house. I was awake enough that evening for nephew duty, so we headed to Sonny’s Bar-B-Que, and later enjoyed a walk around the block. The kitty box at my brother’s house—serving three nearly full-grown cats—was pretty stinky, so I closed the door to that bathroom enough to let cats through but to limit the odor. I left the top-hinged window ajar, confident that it was too high for the cats to get through. Wrong.

Cats don’t know when they’ve got a good thing going, and Oscar had made his escape. Maybe he was miffed about that recent operation… I discovered his absence the next morning, and went on search and rescue up and down the street, but to no avail. Fortunately, the neighbor’s dog was on the scent and pointed out that Oscar was hiding under the back porch. We got him back inside well before my brother’s return.

My brother returned that evening and took over, himself a bit miffed that I hadn’t changed the kitty box. “Not without a haz-mat suit”, I thought to myself. We talked about my uncle, who had recently suffered a stroke and was still hospitalized. We decided to run up to see him in Brazil, Indiana while I was there.

The drive there and back was beautiful; trees in Kentucky were short on color and were more a dull brown, but the trees in Indiana were beginning to peak with reds and yellows. At the hospital in Brazil, the nephews and I took a little walk, and brought some bright red leaves back to Uncle John, who is recovering very well.

Coming back through Cincinnati, we found our way to the science museum, located in the old train station, a gorgeous art-deco structure that had sat there abandoned throughout most of our childhood. The museum had closed thirty minutes earlier and was hosting a private event, so we continued on southward. My brother had another idea, and soon we were pulling into Chuck E. Cheese’s outside the Florence Mall in northern Kentucky. Not for the faint-of-heart, Chuck E. Cheese offers mediocre pizza, a robotic music show with serious sound problems, arcade games, a giant climbing tunnel, and a teenager in a rat outfit that tries to entertain the kids. Maybe the most fun was the virtual reality Cedar Point roller coaster ride the nephews did. Once is enough.

Another day in Kentucky, and then back to Phoenix. A change of planes at CVG, and I was at PHX before 2:00 PM Pacific time. Decided to sneak in and stay undercover for a few days, so I grabbed a cab. It was the day of the Presidential debate in Tempe, and we drove right past both Kerry’s plane and Air Force One, parked next to each other, but I was too slow to get a picture for the web site. Was home by 2:30, was greeted by kitty, read the mail, balanced the checkbook, popped a frozen dinner in the microwave, and tuned into the last debate—only a few miles away—at 6:00 PM.

I sold my car before I left, and had arranged for the new one to be ready the day after I returned. It was still on the docks in L.A. when I arrived, thanks to a labor dispute and work slowdown (really—I googled it). It finally arrived at the dealership Saturday afternoon. Back to work tomorrow (Monday), and should take possession of it (a Scion Xb, camouflage green) sometime tomorrow afternoon. (It was finally ready that Wednesday)

Was it worth it all? Yes, a thousand times yes! Maybe I’ll do it again with different countries in another five years. Now, I have to figure out where to go next year. New Zealand? France, Germany, Italy, Ireland? China? I hear Iceland is interesting, and I’ve always wanted to visit Easter Island, (way) off the coast of Chile. Then of course, there’s Peru and Machu Pichu, Argentina and the Tierra del Fuego, or maybe back to Alaska or Hawaii…

JP

Thanks for a great report j379pa ^^^

thanks! I was heading to NZ last year when my mother's illness hit and I had to cancel at the last minute. Maybe next year...

JP

Very interesting report. I'm contemplating a trip to the Baltic countries next year, so that section was helpful.