Translate

Friday, June 28, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: July 13-14 Italy to Greece



Tuesday July 13 
Milan to Brindisi
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.grandistazioni.it/cms-file/immagini/grandistazioni/MI_p_1900_533x350.jpg
At midnight in Milan, we finally boarded the train for Brindisi.  Our busy day had begun with an early morning 5 km walk in Switzerland and not stopped till now and we were eager for sleep.

We had prepaid and reserved a first class cabin with couchettes! So imagine our dismay at finding two rather portly Italian Grandmas squatting in our fully rented cabin! 

When we informed the ladies that they needed to find another compartment, they cheekily pointed to the "Reserved" sign! 

Of course it was 'Reserved'. For us

I was rendered speechless by their hubris. But sensible Donna simply went looking for a guard to rectify the situation.
Couchettes were crucial that night, since they would enable us to sleep horizontally for a good portion of our 22 hours journey down the Adriatic coast of Italy. But, before we could settle for the night, we had to search for someone needed to explain to these ladies that they were, indeed, in the wrong cabin.

Donna returned with a bevy of male guards. She then produced the requisite paperwork, showing that we, and not the portly impostors, were the rightful occupants of said cabin. I was SO proud of her!

After conferring with each other for 5 minutes, the guards seemed to have reached a decision. The main guard delivered the important announcement, as if he were a Shakespearean stage actor delivering a soliloquy. The cabin, he declared, was unequivocally and rightfully ours. Furthermore, his decision was unanimous and binding!

There was one blessed moment of silence, while the information sunk in. Then all hell broke loose! The two ladies gesticulated and wailed their objections, imploring the implacable guard to let them stay. Somehow Donna and I had been drawn into an impromtu drama akin to an Italian Opera! 
Viva Italia!
After much waving of arms and loudly expressive insults hurled in our direction, the ladies grumpily shuffled out of our cabins. For once I was glad that I could not understand a word they said.

As if by telepathy, every travelling train official had instantly become aware of our situation. So for the rest of our VERY long trip, we were guarded assiduously by 5 very intense Italian guards.

Donna slept like a baby. Alas, I was not so lucky since I had not remembered to re-stock a crucial medical aid before we left Lucerne! Having finished my Montreux companions' gift of 'wonder pills', I now had to endure, without aidthe full effects of the dreaded stomach virus
by kind courtesy of 
http://media.tumblr.com/8f214d430f1401ecdf023fd0b1a7cbb6/tumblr_inline_mgh3pch81U1rcf064.jpg
To compound my misery, our train seemed to stop every village en route, where train staff chatted endlessly with distant family members employed at various stations down the line.

Had I not spent an inordinate amount of time visiting the washroom during this trip, I would have been asleep in my couchette, and would not even have noticed these interruptions. I certainly would not have been inconvenienced by them

In Italy, in 1976, most distance trains had no tank in which to collect bathroom sewage, so it was directly dumped onto the track below. Apparently Nature would ensure that all such refuse became well composted!

To keep remote villages clean and hygienic, Italian train authorities simply requested that all passengers refrain from using or flushing toilets, whenever the train was stationary. Yikes!

Thankfully, by dawn, the virus seemed to have worked its way out of my system - along with the remainder of my wine. So I was finally able to rest for a few hours.
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.keycamp.co.uk/images/sites/ia014-cavalino-garden-paradiso-campsite-the-adriatic-images/gallery/IA014-Cavalino-Garden-Paradiso-Campsite-The-Adriatic-Beach-A-Second.jpg
The view of the Adriatic Coast from the train, though beautiful soon became painfully monotonous  as it was our ONLY view for hour upon hour. 

Believe it or not, one cannot gaze upon mile after mile of unblemished white beaches for long, when one is trapped in a hot, steel vehicle.

A part of me dearly wanted to escape that train to walk barefoot on that soft sand and swim in those warm azure waters. 

But we had miles to go before we could indulge in such hedonistic pleasures. And perhaps my body's greatest need was that I rest and allow it to recuperate. I would need all my strength to truly appreciate the glories of Greece that awaited us!

Brindisi to Kerkyra  11 hours 41 mins
https://maps.google.ca/maps


Twenty hours later - almost two hours overdue - we arrived in Brindisi a port city situated on the eastern peninsula (heel) of Italy, on the coast of the Adriatic sea. We were bound for Patras in Greece. And getting there would require us to book passage on an overnight ferry.

Donna and I were so grateful to finally hike our packs onto our shoulders and escape our multi-wheeled prison, that we practically ran from that train. 

But our relief was short-lived as we were greeted at the exit by a throng of smiling boys, all jabbering at us in broken English. 

At 8 pm, a multitude of travel-worn tourists filled the streets of Brindisi, each intent on purchasing a ticket for the ferry ride to Greece. The scene was chaotic as well as deafening. We eventually followed a smiling, but most vehement, pied piper to his place of employment.

The small man behind the counter of this well-lit but shoddy looking establishment efficiently sold us two tickets for a ferry that would be leaving for Patras in a matter of minutes.  
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.adriaticandaegeanferries.com/uffizi/proudionian/3213.jpg
To our immense relief, our ship looked more like a 70s pleasure cruiser than any humble ferry of our acquaintance.

It even sported a salt-water swimming pool!

By the time Donna and I had dropped our backpacks off in our overnight cabin, it was close to supper-time. Those living and travelling in the warmer climes of southern Europe tend to eat their main meal after 10 o'clock at night.

by kind courtesy of http://static.ifood.tv/files/images/editor/images/Greek%20food.jpg

Donna and I thus enjoyed a delicious 4-course Greek meal for the ridiculously low cost of $5, including the table wine.

Our supper was delicious.  But the dining room itself was also a joy to behold. It reminded me of one of London's 5-Star hotel dining rooms.

Our introduction to this 'ferry' was, indeed a successful culinary experience.

Wednesday July 14  Aboard ferry bound for Corfu

After supper, Donna declared herself ready to sleep.  But having slept for most of the day, I was wide awake, ! So, I quickly freshened up, changing into a dress and heels. Then I left Donna to dream alone in our cabin, while I visited the Esmerelda Lounge. It was past midnight, and I was ready to search for the company of other young travellers.

Our ferry temporarily housed a veritable United Nations of young adult passengers from United Kingdom, New Zealand, Canada, Norway, United States, Sweden and Denmark, in addition to its all-Italian crew. Before I had time to order a lemonade, half a dozen Norwegians arrived, toting a keg of ice cold German beer.

by kind courtesy of http://rlv.zcache.com/german_man_on_beer_keg_stickers-r67ba1409210d483ebdbbb50565a35d22_v9waf_8byvr_512.jpg


The beer was quickly shared among us all. And soon passengers with guitars joined us. Before we knew it, a party had broken out in the Esmerelda Lounge
by kind courtesy of 
http://oliverartscouncil.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/70s.bmp
Initially, a couple of the crew charmed us with some of their Italian songs. We listened politely. But as more beer flowed, the guitar players and passengers soon took over.

From my vantage point, we delivered passable renditions of (then) recent popular songs by Crosby Stills and Nash, The Byrds, Simon and Garfunkel, the Beatles, Donovan and more. And a few of us even danced!
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.deliciousmagazine.co.uk/images/articles/3468/3468_2.jpg
By 4 am, we were all quite merry and nobody cared if anyone was singing in key any more. Then the ferry's baker, instructed by the wise and compassionate Captain, supplied us with hot, fresh-baked crusty bread.

It was a most welcome interruption and a very wise move since the bread helped to soak up the excess alcohol in our systems. Also, one cannot successfully sing and eat bread at the same time! So, the bread also served to let us know it was time to quit partying and get some sleep.

Donna, who had missed the entire party, was one the few passengers aboard who actually got any sleep that night. The rest of us were happy just to let down our hair and socialize with each other! 

At 8 am, about twenty of my new 'party friends' disembarked while a new batch of travellers joined our ferry. We had reached Corfu (Kerkyra), a small island that stretches past the coasts of what is currently three separate countries - Albania, Macedonia and Greece.

Vehement promises were exchanged to meet in Corfu when Donna and I stopped there, after we'd visited Greece. And then my new tribe shouldered their backpacks and vanished.

Corfu to Patras 4 hours 53 mins
by kind courtesy of http://www.greece-ferries.com/images/pics/map_international.jpg 
Returning to my cabin, long after dawn, I found Donna cheerfully preparing to leave the cabin to spend the morning on deck.
by kind courtesy of 
http://thestudiobymdm.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/classicfrench-950x712.jpg


I showered, washed and set my hair and gave myself a manicure and pedicure before snoozing undisturbed till 1 pm. Utter Bliss!

The first casualty of travel is privacy. Thus, to have a secluded space to myself for several hours, without interruption, was a real treat!

Officially 1 pm was lunchtime, but I decided to wear my new bikini, and sunbathe instead. Perhaps my excessive partying contributed to my decision to avoid food, but I'll never tell!

To my delight, fellow party friends, Suzanne and Keith, had not disembarked in Corfu but were also travelling to Patras. They both looked and felt a little worse for wear, after their night of debauchery. So they, too, had decided to sunbathe by the pool. 

But the early afternoon sun became progressively hotter by the minute, so the pair decided to cool their overheated bodies with a dip in the salt-water pool. 
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.visualphotos.com/photo/2x4629470/woman_diving_into_water_BLD039735.jpg




Great idea!


I immediately dived into the pool with them. But a split second before my body entered the water, I realized, in horror, that I had forgotten to remove my brand new contact lenses! 

Despite the most assiduous efforts of ship's crew and passengers around the pool, my expensive lenses were hopelessly lost to the waters of the Adriatic that day.

Apparently the water for the ship's swimming pool was siphoned directly from the sea and returned directly there after use. Neither incoming nor outgoing waters were ever filtered.

I like to think that my bio-indestructible lenses have been enjoying a permanent vacation in the sunshine of Greece for the last 37 years!

I spent the rest of that ferry ride seeking shade on deck, anywhere but in that filter-less pool which had lost its appeal for me after it swallowed my lenses without mercy. And what Brainiac had decided against using a pool filter? Really!!?? 

The day had begun really well, with laughter, song and free flowing booze. But, since I had taken several weeks to carefully break-in a new pair of lenses before flying to Europe, I was quite upset with myself for so carelessly losing them.

I would now be forced to wear my hated spectacles during what promised to be the hottest leg of our journey through Greece. Oh well, at least both Donna and I had finally overcome our Montezuma's Revenge of the past few days. [Montezuma's Revenge is a jocular term for traveller's diarrhea] That was a blessing we both could count!

At 3 pm, I returned to the cabin, showered - again - changed, and went to the bar for a lemonade. Two Swedish guys, that I didn't recognize, were playing a game of chequers at one of the tables. So I challenged them, winning once and then, diplomatically, losing one game. When Donna joined us, the guys broke open a bottle of Corfu Firewater before we all packed and left the ferry.
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.ferries.gr/italy-ferries/images/wonderful_greece.gif
We docked at Patras about 5pm, to a slightly less chaotic scene than the one we'd left in Brindisi.

It seemed no buses had yet arrived to meet our ferry. And since, at that time, there was no other way to transport our ship's few dozen passengers to Athens, this was a very big deal! Today's travellers can now take a train there.

All those wishing to reach the capital were forced to stand, with their luggage, for over an hour in the still-blazing afternoon heat!  And, despite our united misery, it made me chuckle to see English travellers quietly queueing for the bus, even in that unrelenting sunshine. 

In 1976, the traveller abroad could not always depend on travel companies to take care of their needs. Where we had disembarked, there was no shade, no seating and not even a concession stand where one might have purchased cold drinks or an ice-cream. But Suzanne generously shared a glass of her orange juice with me, so that I could remain hydrated.

We spent an uncomfortable hour waiting. But, upon further consideration, I decided that the general lack of liquid refreshment was a blessing in disguise since there seemed to be no bathroom facilities available.

Eventually the buses did arrive to chauffeur us to Athens. But fate had not yet finished messing with me! The very moment I stepped onto the bus, the remains of the Corfu Firewater that our Swedish chequer-playing friends had given to us slipped from my hands. 

That bottle smashed upon the ground, its contents forever lost. But, before I could lament its passing, I stubbed my toe climbing the bus step, and spilled my remaining orange over and through my thin skirt. 

After my recent experience with an exploding coke bottle in Trier, I at least knew how to walk in a sodden skirt. But this time, I had no opportunity, either to wash or to change my clothes. 

I was NOT amused! 

To keep from screaming in sheer frustration with the insanity of it all, I reminded myself that some of our most enjoyable adventures had begun the day following a particularly trying experience. So I figured the Greek Gods must have something really spectacular in store for Donna and me.

Despite my irritation, I easily napped on the bus, and dreamed I was chatting with the cotton fabric of my skirt, begging it to PLEASE not do its own laundry, especially while I was still wearing it. Thankfully Donna woke me, before my skirt could respond.
by kind courtesy of 
http://goodfoodgoodfriends.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/2012-06-22_18-44-50_281.jpg
Our bus was pulling off the road into a dusty area next to a rough looking shack, from which delicious aromas emanated. The driver was first in line to buy souvlaki, or lamb skewers, and suggested that we do likewise.

Donna refused to eat, afraid that this roadside cafe might not adhere to safe food practices. But I had experienced similar roadside treats in Morocco and survived.  Also, I had skipped lunch so my stomach was loudly growling. I risked buying 3 skewers, which proved so tender and delicious that I quickly went back for more!

It was dark by the time we resumed our journey, and I noted with interest, that it was only 9 pm. Three weeks earlier, in Sweden, the summer night had been almost non-existent. But because Greece was closer to the equator, we lost several hours of scorching daylight but gained hours of dark, warm, spice-scented nights. No wonder dark-starved Scandinavians headed for Greece each summer.
by kind courtesy of 
http://farm1.staticflickr.com/131/409078576_99c50c5890_z.jpg
At 11 pm, we reached Athens, and immediately sought out a hotel for that night. Our driver was very helpful in suggesting a hotel where one of his relatives worked.

Travelling in the seventies really was just that casual and trusting, even in Greece!

We had been warned not to wear short shorts or tank tops in public, so as not to over-excite the hot blooded Greeks. And one had to be careful to travel with someone one already knew, when catching a taxi. Apart from taking these sensible precautions, we had no fear of being molested or harmed in Greece.
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.hostelsclub.com/pics/3791/003791-1220288581.jpg
Our tall ceilinged room at the Hotel Olympus, in the heart of the city, was a cool, spacious and most welcome reprieve after spending so many hours travelling in sunshine. And that luxury cost us each the "exorbitant" sum of $6.50 CDN per night!

Donna, of course, was hungry and went down to the lobby to ask where she could find food at midnight. Figuring that she would not be gone for long, I immediately monopolized the sink, finally cleaning my legs after my orange juice bath at Patras.

I then hand-washed my sticky clothes and hung them to dry over my bed's iron head and foot boards. In that wonderfully spacious room, all my clothes dried in less than one hour!

Unbeknownst to me, at the time, Donna had eaten her supper with the handsome green-eyed blond Greek named Kosta.  He ran the hotel's front desk and didn't speak English well. But he did order food for her and help her to understand what she was eating.

Upstairs, I revelled in my solitude, watching the street scene below our window till my eyelids drooped. I, thus, only vaguely registered Donna's return to our room around 2 am. I had hit the sheets right after finishing my laundry and re-organizing my backpack for our upcoming tour of the Greek Islands.

Next Time
July 15-18
GREECE

Greek Islands Cruise

Mykonos 

Rhodes

Crete 

Santorini


I am taking a break from writing about my past 
to live in the here and now for the summer! 

See you in September for the remainder of my 
1976 Grand Tour of Europe

Friday, June 21, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: July 10-12 Switzerland to Italy

Saturday July 10
Montreux, Switzerland

Donna awoke from her long sleep, bright and cheerful and raring to go. Even though she had been feeling quite out of sorts the previous evening, she now felt confident she could manage an entire day of activities.

I did wonder if Donna had exaggerated her symptoms in order to manipulate my decision. But regardless what her agenda might have been, I made a pact with myself that
wherever we travelled,
I would have a marvelous time
Bill had pretty much taken over our schedule during our time in Switzerland, bless him! But we knew we would have to relinquish him soon.
by kind courtesy of www.cartoonstock.com
We would miss his endless stream of information about the places we had visited. Yet I was also looking forward to the Greek Cruise that Donna and I had planned months ago.

Our ship would be waiting for us in Athens next weekend. But first we had to travel there, and that journey, by train, ferry and bus, would take at least a couple of days.

Meanwhile, Bill had one last surprise in store for us.
And he had saved the best for last!


We all bid farewell to the streets of Lucerne and caught a train heading westwards. Bill was most mysterious about our destination, keeping it a complete secret until we had almost arrived. Then, almost casually, he asked if we'd ever been to Montreux before?
Montreux, a pretty town on the north eastern end of Lake Geneva (Lac Leman), has long been a favourite Swiss Riviera summer destination, that was once enjoyed by notables such as Lord Byron and Charlie Chaplin.
On this warm July day, its narrow streets were already teaming with a medley of tourists - from shoestring travellers to the wealthy. They had all arrived with one purpose in mind. Music!

Each  summer Montreux celebrates different genres of music in its popular annual festivals. And Bill had guided Donna and me here to enjoy the final moments of 10th Montreux Jazz Festival.
by kind courtesy of 
Bill was on assignment, taking photos at the Festival. Thus, as soon as he knew that we had found safe accommodation, he bid us each a fond, but speedy farewell, and promptly vanished into the crowd.

His departure was as sudden and unexpected as his arrival had been. Yet his impact on our enjoyment of the Alps was beyond measure. 

During our long trip to the boot of Italy, Donna and I would recall all the adventures that Bill had made possible for us.

  • Without his intervention, we would not have enjoyed the serenity and beauty of Liechtenstein. We would not have noticed how each garden joins a tapestry of living colour, whose fragrance carries high into the mountains.
  • Without Bill, we might not have taken that small guage railway to see the Reichenbach Falls. Even though they were dry during our visit, the scenery along the way was spectacular.
  • Without our guide and mentor, we would never have climbed 187 stone steps to meet Frau van Euw in Lucerne, just when we most needed her solicitous care.
  • And without Bill, we would not now be at the 10th Montreux Jazz Festival!
Thank you, Bill, for befriending, educating and challenging us to reach beyond the guide book. Thank you for taking care of our mundane needs, even when Donna fell ill. And thank you most of all for being good-natured and treating us with the utmost respect and kindness. 
You are our angel!

Around lunchtime, Donna and I booked in at the Montreux Youth Hostel, thanked and hugged Bill "au revoir" and then - most importantly - claimed our bunk beds for that night.

The hostel was packed to the rafters with music lovers from all over the world. Some had brought guitars, flutes and other instruments with them and I could hear them playing in an adjacent room

That afternoon I had a happy time learning new songs, making new friends and chatting with others about their lives in different countries. And I discovered that, no matter where we are from, or where we've grown up, we're more alike than different from one another, in that music brings us all together.

While doing dishes, we met two French girls who had also suffered the same debilitating stomach virus that had assailed Donna. Unlike us, they carried effective anti-diarrhea medicine, which they generously offered to shared with us. Donna declined, but I happily accepted two of their 'wonder-pills' - just in case!

Towards sunset, Donna and I joined a slowly-moving human throng snaking its way towards town. Everyone's soul wanted to stroll at dusk in this "Swiss Riviera" town, to enjoy how that warm, gentle lakeside evening coaxed the fragrance from each exotic bloom just for them... 

The day had been hot and humid, but the night was magical and enticing, perfect for listening to music. It had occurred to me that, on my limited budget, I might not be able to buy a ticket for any of the venues. But where there was a will, there would be a way. And I definitely had a will!

One cannot take advantage of an opportunity unless one is there, in person, to greet it.
Knowing this to be true, I implored the god of music to thrill me with an opportunity.
Donna decided to tag along with the French girls, so we agreed to meet back in the hostel dormitory later. I was thus free to wander around the perimeter of the buildings, perchance to find an unlocked door. 

To my amazement and delight, I discovered that every EXIT door had been thrown open for the comfort of performers and audience alike. 

I joined a number of tie-dyed tourists, crowding around an open doorway, soaking in the silken sounds of a sexy saxophone softly wafting towards us.  

And it wasn't only music wafting through the air that evening.

Between sets, I searched for an alternate venue that might allow me to see, as well as hear, the talented performers. But as I passed a large, white TV truck-trailer, I stumbled over some thick electrical cables, that were invisible in the growing darkness.

Losing my footing I braced for a fall, when two hands grabbed me around my waist and set me on my feet again. I turned to thank my rescuer, only to find my knees buckling under me.

He was French, dark-haired, green-eyed, not too tall, and totally gorgeous! He worked inside that big white TV trailer whose snaking electrical cable had "introduced" us. His job was to help broadcast the show, live, to millions of viewers in France.

We talked animatedly during the break, then, against all regulations, he invited me inside the trailer, to listen to and watch the the rest of that night's show on his monitor.

He led me to a swivel leather chair, put headphones over my ears and then set to broadcasting the show.

I was in 7th heaven - listening to the best jazz music via the best technical equipment available. And knowing that the musicians were playing literally a few meters from me added a deliciously piquant flavour.

When the broadcast ended, I enthusiastically thanked Andre' for inviting me to listen to the best concert ever with him. Then I floated back to the hostel with several, equally ecstatic back-packers, who also had special permission, from the hostel authorities, to be out late for the festival. 

It was 2 am when I crept into my dorm room. Donna looked like she had been sleeping for hours. Within minutes, my head hit my pillow, and though I thought myself far too excited to sleep, I slept like a log. 

Apollo had indeed rewarded me gently for my boldness - as gently as a god can!

Sunday July 11
About a mile from Montreux, eastwards along the north-east coast of Lac Leman lies the Castle of Chillon.
The castle consists of about 100 independent buildings
that were connected to become the cohesive building it is today.




Whilst standing in the dungeon of Chillon, I had a most unsettling experience.
by kind courtesy of http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4096/4799289029_b92af55fc7.jpg

I had entered the dungeon alone, and was standing still, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. Tall narrow windows cut into the thick stone permitted very little light into the room. 
Outside, the afternoon temperature had risen well into the nineties. But in this place, there was a permanent chill, as if the devil had drained all the light and goodness from the stones themselves. 
I shivered inspite of myself. 
Nobody else was in that dungeon with me. At least, nobody that I could see. Yet I had a strong impression that I was being studied very carefully.  
My first instinct was to turn and run away from there. Yet my feet walked determinedly towards one particular stone column. There my eyes fell on the heavy rusted iron circlet to which prisoners were once chained.  
With my palms flattened against this column, a 'rush of ancient memories' flooded into my consciousness. Again, my instinct was to disconnect and vacate this premises. But a hand on my shoulder stopped me. 
I could feel deep emotions in that hand grip, yet there was no physical hand to be seen. The pain, isolation, loneliness and despair had finally found someone who could 'hear' it's anguished cry - or in my case, 'feel' it.  
An energy had 'found' me, but was not interested in me, as a person, only in my ability to 'read' it. 
It meant me no harm, but had apparently needed to 'vent'. And I had been available.
After what felt like forever, I was able to let go of that column and make my way out of the dungeon. After conveying its message, the 'entity' had completely released my consciousness. But the experience remains as fresh in my memory today as when it happened, 37 years ago.
Feeling as wrung out as a dishrag, I left Chillon Castle after visiting the dungeon. My heart went out to the trapped soul who was still suffering in limbo in that place. And I prayed he would find peace. Then, suddenly, I could not bear to be indoors any longer. I needed to cleanse in sunshine.

I joined Donna near the entrance, close to the washroom, where she had spent the entire time. Though her stomach had finally settled, she had not felt confident enough to risk a long tour without having a bathroom close by. 
 by kind courtesy of http://mappery.com/maps/Jungfrau-Grindelwald-region-summer-map.jpg
We walked back to Montreux and caught our first train south-east through Valais to Brig.

From Brig we changed to a small guage railway to travel through the Bernese Oberlandover to Spiez and then it was back to the main line for the final trip into Interlaken.

Both of us were grateful for the efficiency and cleanliness of Swiss trains, especially their immaculate bathrooms!

Along the way, we met two fellows from Toronto who invited us to share a picnic lunch with them, in Grindelwald, under the Jungfrau.

By the time we arrived at our rural destination, a storm was threatening. So we all took shelter in a nearby barn and enjoyed our picnic there instead.

The view from this barn was quite spectacular.
Happy, happy cows!
EIGER    MONCH    JUNGFRAU
by kind courtesy of 
http://www.nationsonline.org/maps/switzerland-admin-map.jpg
After lunch, we bid farewell to Earl and Dave and took a train back to Interlaken, from where we strolled the 5 km to Interlaken Youth Hostel

At the Youth Hostel, our happiest discovery was their pay laundry machines. It was ridiculous how delighted we were not to have washed our clothes by hand and propped them on chairs hoping they'd dry overnight. When you travel, small conveniences mean a lot!

Monday July 12 Interlaken
After a lazy breakfast, Donna and I strolled back through tree-lined lanes, to Interlaken Station for our connection to Lucerne.

by kind courtesy of 
http://untourscafe.com/photo/the-old-church-in-meiringen

We stopped at Meiringen again, but this time were not tempted to visit the still dry Reichenbach Falls.

Instead, we ate an early lunch, then re-boarded the train to the town of Stans, close to Lake Lucerne. For a change of pace, we decided to take a ferry ride to a small cafe along the shoreline that served a most welcome cup of English tea.

Though quite incongruous, I found it very restorative to sip tea from china cups whilst exulitng in the picturesque lake and mountain views.

By the time we boarded the train to Lucerne later that day, I was ready to shop. We had been warned that we might not be able to procure more film for our cameras in Southern Italy or Greece. So I stocked up on that, as well as some hard fruit and bottled water for our journey south. And, on a whim, I bought a stars and stripes bikini to mark the Bicentennial year of Canada's nearest neighbour.
http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/rmg/lowres/rmgn214l.jpg
Before boarding our train in Switzerland, we had ensured our couchettes for the Italian leg of our journey. At only 10 Sw. Fr. each, ($4 CDN), they promised us a long rest during a day-long journey.

Then we'd treated ourselves to a fine restaurant meal in Lucerne before catching the evening commuter train to Milan.

Finally able to relax, knowing we had only one final transfer to manage before travelling to the heel of Italy, Donna and I cracked open a bottle of wine on the train.

Italy would be the 11th country we'd visited in less than one month on our Grand Tour. That, alone, was worth celebrating!

In true 'European Style', we split a bottle of German Liebfraumilch, whilst travelling from Switzerland to Italy. Donna had, wisely, remembered to pack her Swiss Army Knife, complete with corkscrew!
by kind courtesy of
http://www.clickndrink.co.uk/shop/products/liebfraumilch-schmitt-sohne-qba-white-wine-75cl.htm#.UcP1QTs3srU
Mind you, we had no wine glasses. But one gets used to handling those flimsy conical paper cups after spilling the first two or three refills. I probably spilled more than I drank on that trip. But the wine we did manage to drink, plus our clumsiness with those glasses just made us both laugh hysterically. But to this day, I have no idea why!

By the time our train pulled into Milan Central about 10.30 pm, our excesses had made us both feel rather fragile. So we sought refuge from the crowd, which is not easy to do as that enormous station was still busy, even that close to midnight. 

We had anticipated sleeping off the worst of our night of debauchery. But we had failed to realize that we'd traded the efficient cleanliness of Swiss transport for an Italian train. Nothing was as we might have expected it to be in Switzerland.

But you will have to wait till next time to find out why!

Next Week
Milan to Brindisi

Reservation Hassles

Our bodyguards

Adriatic Coast




Brindisi to Athens


Ferry Feast

Esmerelda Lounge

Corfu

Pool Disaster


Friday, June 14, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: July 7-9 Switzerland and Liechtenstein


Wednesday July 7 
After leaving the Schloss Hegi hostel in Winterthur, Donna and I caught a bus and  train to Zurich.  We parked our backpacks in the station locker there, before treating ourselves to a guided tour of the city. It was on this bus tour that we met a very helpful English fellow named Bill.

Bill, who worked in Europe as a photographer, shared information with us about current events in the countries through which we planned to travel. And since he also had a working knowledge of German, Italian and French, he later helped me to find some quality sunglasses - an item I'd neglected to buy during my sisterly shopping spree in London.
Zurich is the largest city in Switzerland and the capital of the canton of Zurich. It is located in north-central Switzerland at the northwestern tip of Lake Zurich 
The municipality has approximately 390,000 inhabitants, and the Zurich metropolitan area 1.83 million.  
Zurich is a hub for railways, roads, and air traffic. Both Zurich Airport and railway station are the largest and busiest in the country.

Meiringen
During our Zurich shopping trip, Bill suggested that Donna and I catch a fast train to Lucerne. And from there, take the small guage train up the mountain to Meiringen home of the world-famous Reichenbach Falls.

What a fabulous way to spend the afternoon! 

Our smaller train would take almost an hour to climb the steep mountainside to Meiringen, which afforded the photographer in me stunning lake views and bucolic country scenes. These Swiss Alps reminded me of the mountains of British Columbia.


I was so excited to be seeing this part of Switzerland that it was only when Bill attached himself to Donna's side that I finally realized he had intended to join us on our day's excursion. At his suggestion,we collected our backpacks on our way out of Zurich station, since Bill doubted that we'd want to return there to that city that night.

It was all very mysterious. Yet neither Donna nor I sensed malice in Bill. He was very like a jovial, unkempt English sheepdog in both manner and appearance. He also seemed genuinely delighted by our company, as he enthusiastically shared pertinent information with us and escorted both of us through the beautiful Swiss Alps.
Meiringen is a town and municipality in the Interlaken-Oberhasli administrative district in the canton of Bern in Switzerland.
The town is famous for the nearby Reichenbach Falls, a spectacular waterfall that was the setting for the fictional presumed death of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's character Sherlock Holmes. The town is also known for its claim to have been the place where the meringue was first created.
taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meiringen

by kind courtesy of http://www.traveljournals.net/pictures/l/26/266888-off-to-the-reichenbach-falls-meiringen-switzerland.jpg
Reichenbach Falls
by kind courtesy of  www.sherlock-holmes.com
The Reichenbach Falls (Reichenbachfall) are a series of waterfalls on the Reichenbach stream in the Bernese Oberland region of Switzerland. They have a total drop of 250 metres (820 ft).

At 90 meters (300 ft), the Upper Reichenbach Falls is one of the highest cataracts in the Alps. Today, a hydro-electric power company harnesses the flow of the Reichenbach Falls during certain times of year, reducing its flow
In popular literature, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle gave the falls as the location of the final confrontation of his hero Sherlock Holmes with the criminal Professor Moriarty in "The Final Problem 
taken fromhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reichenbach_Falls


Unbelievably, these famous falls had completely dried up the year we were there! Record low rainfall combined with record heat throughout Europe to restrict water flow to a mere trickle. No gushing falls for us in Switzerland!

Though disappointed, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that British Columbia had many wonderful waterfalls that we had yet to discover, though none of them would likely be connected with Sherlock Holmes.

Lucerne
by kind courtesy of  http://inserbia.info/news/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/lucerne.jpg
At the end of a long day of travelling, by bus and various trains, all three of us boarded our final train back to Lucerne.  

Bill had insisted that we stop for a couple nights at the city of Lucerne.  He had a particular Pension in mind for Donna and me.

He also neglected to tell us that reaching meant hauling ourselves and our backpacks up 187 steep steps up the side of a mountain!

We were learning to expect the 
unexpected where Bill was concerned.

True to his word, Frau Von Euw's Pension had a view that was totally worth the exhausting climb. Donna and I hauled our backpacks up the stairs to the largest room in the her establishment. Our window overlooked the rooftops, towers and spires of Lucerne.


God Bless Bill!!
Due to its location on the shore of Lake Lucerne (der Vierwaldstättersee), within sight of Mount Pilatus and Rigi in the Swiss Alps, Lucerne has long been a destination for tourists. One of the city's famous landmarks is the Chapel Bridge (Kapellbrücke), a wooden bridge first erected in the 14th century

Since the city straddles the Reuss River where it drains the lake, it has a number of bridges. The most famous is the Chapel Bridge (Kapellbrücke), a 204 m (669 ft) long wooden covered bridge originally built in 1333, the oldest covered bridge in Europe, although much of it had to be replaced after a fire on August 18, 1993, allegedly caused by a discarded cigarette.


Part way across, the bridge runs by the octagonal Water Tower (Wasserturm), a fortification from the 13th century. Inside the brdige are a series of paintings from the 17th century depicting events from Lucerne's history. The Bridge with its Tower is the city's most famous landmark.

excerpt and photo taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kapellbr%C3%BCcke


Donna hogged the bathroom again! I hoped that she was feeling well. Being ill is difficult enough at home, but on vacation, it can be downright miserable for all concerned.

Descending those 187 steps was a lot less troublesome than climbing them, even whilst carrying our backpacks. Bill had a photo shoot in Liechtenstein that day, so suggested we visit it too. We thus all caught the bus to Vaduz the capital of Switzerland's tiny neighbouring country, the 

PRINCIPALITY OF LIECHTENSTEIN
Liechtenstein is the smallest yet richest (by measure of GDP per capita) German-speaking country and the only country to lie entirely within the Alps. It is known as a principality as it is a constitutional monarchy headed by a prince.
Schlossvaduz is the castle that overlooks the capital of Vaduz. It is home to the current Prince of Leichtenstein, Hans-Adam II. 

TRIESENBERG

From Vaduz we changed buses and ventured into the mountains to our destination of Triesenberg.
Triesenberg is a municipality in Liechtenstein,with a population of 2,564.Its 30 square kilometer area makes it the largest municipality in Liechtenstein. 
The centre of the municipality rests at an elevation of 884-1000 meters (around 3000 ft). The village is noted for its distinct dialect, dating from the influence of Walser migrants in the Middle Ages. 
This dialect is actively promoted by the municipality. The existence of this dialectis one eveidence of remarkable linguistic diversity within the small Principality, as it is spoken alongside Standard German and the Alemannic dialect common to the country. excerpt taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triesenberg

In Vaduz, we asked about accommodation and thus found the Hotel Schadler - a private residence that rented holiday rooms by the night. It was central and, like most of the houses in 1976, located close to the main street. But the entire area was so quiet, it felt we'd landed in a luxurious country retreat. 

We were shown to a spacious, comfortable room at the back of the house, that sported a small wooden balcony. From here Donna and I could enjoy a panoramic view of the Swiss Alps and the rolling valley below. 

At 3000 ft elevation, the air was clear and cool, beckoning me to take a stroll outside. But I had to hand-wash some clothes before going walkabout. 

Donna left without a word before I'd finished. So, expecting that I would return in a couple of hours, I pocketed our one and only room key.

It was lunchtime on a beautiful, warm, sunshiny summer's day in paradise. I strolled up the street (since there are no flat areas in Triesenberg!) lured by the aroma wafting from a nearby pub. There I ordered a lemonade and listened to the music and German commentary on the bar radio. 

Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness within, I noticed there were only a few others dining there. The luncheon special was German sausage, for which I was not in the mood. So I ordered an omelette and then studied the others.

I noticed a small Canadian Maple Leaf lapel pin on a lone traveller at another table, and moved to it, smiling and introducing myself. Her name was Joan, and she hailed from Toronto. Small world, eh?!  

Joan was ending her time in Europe, and had many tales to share - as I did with her. 

She had trekked up the mountains in Liechtenstein before, but was more than happy to join me on my first trek that day. The weather was perfect for walking and talking and for enjoying Liechtenstein's beautiful gardens whose colours seemed to glow in the rarefied mountain air.

And before we knew it we'd reached the 5000 ft level, where only sturdy cows seemed to roam.

Apart from an embarrassing incident briefly involving an electrified fence that I hadn't realized was electrified, the walk was idyllic. When we were tired, Joan and I would simply settle in a field till we recovered. That is, if one can 'settle' on a field that slopes up 45 degrees from horizontal?!

The views further up the mountain were breathtakingly beautiful, it felt like we were standing on top of the Alps! And we were! Only in British Columbia's Rocky Mountains had I ever before seen such amazing views. 

Time stood still that day! Joan and I truly did not realize how late it was getting till we heard the church bells chiming in the valley. 

From our lofty vantage point, we could hear all the church bells in the valley ringing simultaneously, and the result was mesmerizing. There's something about mountain air that clarifies and beautifies the sound of bells.

Joan broke the spell first, when she realized that the church bells rang every evening at 7pm - the exact time that she'd promised to meet someone in Triesen, a further hour's walk from the pub at which we'd met that noon.

By the time I bid Joan farewell and returned to my room, it was 8 pm. Donna was annoyed for two reasons: because I had taken the only room key, effectively locking her out for many hours! And secondly, Bill had NOT taken her dancing, as  he had, apparently, promised. She was a very unhappy camper!

I had missed supper, but didn't care. Exhausted from my day's exertions, I enjoyed a hot shower and was sound asleep by 9 pm.

At 11pm exactly, I awoke to find Donna asleep beneath the bedclothes as a spectacular thunderstorm rained fire across the valley. Despite the lashing rain, I stood on our balcony and embraced the elements. One could taste the electricity sparking through the air. 
This was the first thunderstorm, with fierce rain, that I'd experienced since leaving UK on June 18. I hoped its waters would wend their way west and help to restore the dwindling Reichenbach Falls.

Friday July 9 
Though we rose early and breakfasted lightly, we still needed to rush to catch the 10:20 am bus from Triesenberg to Vaduz, transferring to a train bound for Zurich. Donna became ill during this leg of our journey from Vaduz to Zurich. 

Upon arrival, I took her straight to the station rest room, where she lay down on the sofa. I fetched water and a Red Cross nurse for her, and sadly noted that she was way too ill to sight-see that day. 

After an hour or so, when Donna felt better, we agreed to return to Lucerne and Frau Von Euw's establishment so that she could get proper rest. 

I'd forgotten we'd have to ascend those 187 steps. 

I soon remembered when I had to carry two backpacks up them! Not that I envied Donna at all. She looked very green around the gills by the time we arrived back in our rooms.

It seems that Donna had succumbed to some kind of stomach bug that had her running to the bathroom every half hour. No wonder she'd been so miffed with me for locking her our of our room the previous day. She'd probably needed to rest.

I made sure that Donna was comfortable, then went downstairs to chat with Frau Van Euw who told me of a shopping area in Lucerne that I might like to visit while Donna slept.

With Frau Van Euw's directions in hand, I strolled there and spent some of the time window shopping until I was drawn to enter "Trend Decor". 

It was a Danish store that sold small items of furniture and other Danish home wares. This business was owned and run, in Switzerland, by a Swedish woman, married to a American man, whose son attends the French school!  She spoke 8 different languages, fluently, including English. 
I was in awe!

Again I spent an idyllic afternoon chatting with a charming, new-found but short-lived friend. We shared tea (bless her!) and I purchased Danish teak-ware gifts for Mom and self. The shipping costs, to my Mother's home in UK, almost exceeded the total of my purchases.

I returned to our hotel around 5pm to find Donna still slumbering. When she woke I would encourage her to drink some water, or perhaps some clear soup - as suggested by Frau Van Euw.

Bill visited our hotel room for a chat between 9 pm and 2 am. His shoot had lasted longer than anticipated, which caused him to miss his 'dancing date' with Donna. He had already booked his room at Frau van Euw's pension, and visited us immediately he'd heard about Donna's illness. But Donna was too drowsy to chat, so I engaged Bill in a conversation about travel.

We discussed my wish to travel through the Balkans to surprise Erik in Greece. It would mean travelling through Balkan regimes that, even in 1976, were far from stable. Given Donna's weakened condition, I decided such a plan would be foolhardy. What if she should require medical - or surgical - intervention? 

In his turn, Bill informed me of the dangerous political situation in southern Italy. Then, just as I was about to ask him to go back to his own room for the rest of the night, Copenhagen Erik phoned me from Yugoslavia! It was 1.20 am, and he'd been trying to phone me for four hours.

Apparently, Erik was on his way overland to Greece and wondered if I'd like to join him there for a few days! He must have read my mind!!! Could I get myself to Yugoslavia? Is so, we could also travel together from there to Greece. He didn't mention what he thought I should do with Donna!

Timing is CRUCIAL!  
photo of Dubrovnic by kind courtesy of www.marri-rc.org
Had Donna been fit and healthy, I probably would have attempted to join Erik in Dubrovnik. And Donna would most likely have tagged along. 

Had we chosen this option, we would then both have become embroiled in the aftermath of 6.5 Fruili earthquake that had assailed north-eastern Italy in May. 

When 15,000 residents are living in tents, having lost their homes to a natural disaster, one should probably not plan to travel through their area, unless one is willing and able to offer assistance. 

So, with great reluctance, I declined Erik's very tempting offer to travel into Greece with him, via Dubrovnic.  It seemed that a relationship with this handsome Dane was simply not destined to be!

Donna had been woken when Frau van Euw knocked on our door. On seeing Bill sitting in our room, she rallied enough to chat with him when I had left to speak to Erik. After my call, Donna told me that though she was more rested, she still felt very weak and really needed time to recuperate. 

It was apparent that someone had to watch out for and feed my companion till she felt more physically able to care for herself. And since neither of us could depend on newcomer Bill, that person had to be me. Despite missing an opportunity to reunite with Erik, I felt confident I had made the right decision!

Next Week
July 10-12
SWITZERLAND

10th Montreux Jazz Festival 

The Castle of Chillon

Brig 
Spiez
Interlaken

Picnic in Grindelwald

Meiringen revisited

Stadstad, Lucerne - and finally Milan