Living In A Tourist Town

Come play in Mons

It may have started out slowly, or so it seemed, but Mons 2015 is in full swing. As in the tour busses are coming, the tourists are swarming and I dare say we are living in a Belgian tourist destination. And as a resident, I have to admit that it is all kind of exciting.

Although the construction of the new train station appears to be lagging, things are really picking up around here. The streets are cleaner---workers patrol the streets both day and night with giant vacuum cleaner like apparatuses sucking up trash, leaves and anything that lies in their paths. New restaurants, store fronts and private residences are opening up and public art is everywhere. Formerly drab facades have been splashed with brightly colored paint and pop up exhibits (like the giant inflatable red balls pictured at the left) appear in surprising places. And as someone who spends a lot of time wandering through the neighborhood, I've noticed an increase in signage identifying historic buildings. And much to my surprise the signage is usually tri-lingual with the local French sharing space with Flemish and English. But best of all is the increase in customer service one receives from the shop keepers and waiters. Under the best of circumstances I've found Belgian service workers to be polite if not a bit surly with many not speaking, or at least professing to not, speak any English. Now I have no expectation that anyone should speak English here but upon arriving here I was a bit surprised by how many people didn't speak it. But all of a sudden it would appear that the very same waiters and clerks now speak the language. Like I said, it isn't necessary but is a welcome surprise that makes it easier and more comfortable to go about my business. (Of course my French is also improving so maybe we are really just meeting half way).

And a Grand Place filled with balls

So on any given day, regardless of the weather, I leave my house and come face to face with hoards of map and camera toting tourists.While I don't take the sights of Mons for granted, seeing others stop to take pictures of the buildings around me is making me slow down and appreciate my daily views. And when I do I find myself in slight awe that I am living here in Europe and getting to enjoy all of this on a daily basis. On some level I must look like a local too since I am being approached on a daily basis with inquiries for directions or things to see. My French is still pretty weak but ask me for directions to the Grand Place and I can rattle them off in French with the best of them. But of course it isn't all fun and games.....

Remember the tour busses I mentioned earlier? Well they need to park somewhere and the narrow streets and even more limited on street parking spaces don't afford them a lot of leeway for moving about.  One way streets and sidewalks are being converted into make shift bus parking--both authorized and unauthorized-- and much to my dismay on more than one occasion this has included the no parking zone in front of our gate. Yes, the joys of city living apparently include being blocked into your driveway with no alternative escape route. I guess it is as good of an excuse as any but more than ever it means being flexible and making alternative plans. And regardless of the size of the street, a double decker tour bus is not designed to do K-turns. But they try and the results aren't always pretty.

With the summer season just gearing up the tourists and busses are only going to increase. Mons has a whole slate of fun activities planned for the coming months and I plan on joining the hoards and enjoying them as well. I'll be arriving on foot instead of by bus and will be able to escape to the calmness of my own house when the buzz gets to be too much. But at the end of the day this is all  a lot of fun. After all, how many people can say that they have lived in a fun and increasingly vibrant community with the designation of being a European Capital of Culture? I'm going to enjoy every moment of it while it lasts.

An East German Way Of Life

During our recent trip to Berlin we spent an afternoon visiting the DDR Museum. We initially decided to visit since it promised to be a hands-on and interactive place where touching and exploring the exhibits was encouraged. (This is always especially important when traveling with a curious and energetic little boy who wants to touch everything). The museum was all that but what we found was a combination of sadness and nostalgia and the reality that regardless of what side of the Wall one resided on, families wanted the same things.

The interior of the museum itself is dark and concrete which appropriately sets the tone for what you are about to see. Kitschy is a word that can be used to describe many of the exhibits in the museum (and I say this in the best way). An ubiquitous Trabi was meant to be sat in and "driven" through the streets of East Germany. Every day life is portrayed through the model kitchen, living room and bathroom in the museum. The appliances, furniture and accessories looked remarkably similar to those in my own American grandparents home. The avocado green and gold of the 1970s? Yes, the East Germans lived with that too. And the bathroom? It wasn't American at all and could only be described as functional but it did look awfully similar to many that I encountered in 2012 Albania. (Powder blue). Sidney was especially taken with the rotary telephone. He eagerly sat on the scratchy plaid sofa and dialed and chattered into the phone. He only stared at me in disbelief when I explained to him that that type of telephone was the one I grew up with. The manuel typewriter was another novelty for a boy who is

The novel rotary telephone

growing up in the electronic age. He wanted to know where the screen was and why the keys were so hard to push. Children's toys and books looked very similar to those of the same period in the west. I suppose the biggest difference would be the picture books, which obviously geared for a young audience, were filled with images of stern looking soldiers holding even fiercer looking weapons. The best part of all of these exhibits was that they were meant to be touched, opened and pushed; perfect for little explorers.

But there were obvious differences between life in the west and life in the east. The food that was available for purchase was limited, involved queueing for hours and in the end was pretty unappetizing. Essentially every aspect of life was dictated by Moscow. There were sparsely filled wardrobes displaying the "fashions" of the time. None were fashionable by any stretch of the imagination and even during a time when polyester was all the rage, these man made materials were enough to make my skin crawl. But these fashion options were deemed appropriate by Moscow so that is what was available. There was the vacation display showing happy families cavorting in the buff at the beach, playing tennis or simply lounging. The first thought that entered my mind was that such a display would be deemed pornographic and simply not be allowed in any American museum. Sidney actually spotted the display before I did. He paused, looked at it then turned and told me that all of the people were naked. His only other commentary was that it was silly to play tennis without clothes. That was that. One exhibit focused on women's reproductive health which seemed to be quite advanced for the time and in many senses was ahead of where the U.S. is today.

Gas up your Trabi, grab you atlas and hit
the road through these countries

But the museum displays the darker side of East German life as well. Set between displays of soldiers and Stasi were mock prison cells and interrogation rooms. And the listening posts? They were everywhere but you could experience them from both sides of the table--as the interrogator and as the one being interrogated. This portion of the museum sent chills up my spine and reminded me of how dark and often terrifying East German life was for the ordinary East German citizen. The Party leaders and other high level officials, however, lead a very different life. While those Germans who could afford them drove around in their little German built Trabis, solid and reliable Volvos were the car of choice for the Party elite. The explanation? Locally made cars were simply too poorly made and unreliable for official use. Now that really says something, doesn't it?

And there are so many more things to see and explore here. Overall this museum is compact but every space is dedicated to portraying an aspect of daily life in East Germany. Our visit was interesting, I learned a few new things and it was the perfect place for younger kids to have a hands on exploring experience. And for what is a relatively low price when compared to so many museums, spending an afternoon at the DDR Museum is well worth the time and expense.


If you go:

DDR Museum
Karl-Liebknecht-Str 1
10178 Berlin-Mitte
+ 49 30 847 123 73 - 1
www.ddr-museum.de

Open daily 10.00-20.00, Saturdays until 22.00
Adult 7 Euro, Children 4 Euro
Lockers are available but bring change since they won't make it for you. There is also a restaurant on site. Eat outside overlooking the Cathedral and river if possible.

Airplanes, Spaceships & Other Flying Wonders

In the Boeing hanger at the Udvar-Hazy Center

I love the Smithsonian museums. Located in the heart of Washington D.C. they play tribute to the best of all aspects of American history and society. Whether it be a visit to the National Museum of American History to see the First Lady's gowns, the Natural History Museum to see the dinosaurs or the American Indian Museum to learn about America's first residents, each museum is impeccably organized. (And is the case with all of the Smithsonian Museums, entrance is free). And because I love the museums, no visit to Washington D.C. is ever complete without paying a visit to at least one of them. So because we had an airplane loving little boy with us, on our most recent visit we spent a day at the Air & Space Museum. I had been to this museum as a teenager but during my first visit as an adult Glenn gave me a guided tour, taking the time to explain everything we were seeing better than any docent could. It was a memorable visit and I knew Sidney would love it as well. And he did.

Sidney excitedly darted from one display to another exclaiming at how big each airplane was. From the very first airplanes that more closely resembled bicycles to modern day aircraft we saw it all. Sidney immediately identified the military aircraft from both World Wars and more modern times and even went as far as spotting the planes that had been flown by the German army. (Perhaps we have visited one too many World War II battlefields....). We toured a model of an aircraft carrier where Sidney took his turn at steering the ship, looking out of the tower, and exploring the ready room. Afterwards he even rode in a simulator where he flew as though he was the Red Baron. He loved it. So much so that following the advise of several people we spoke with, we went to yet another air and space museum the next day.

A very small airplane

The Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, Virginia is adjacent to the Dulles airport and is the most recent addition to the Smithsonian air and space family. It was a first visit for all of us and even I, the least enthusiastic airplane fan in the family, was looking forward to it. Set in two large hangers on the edge of a runway, the museum is indeed impressive. Visitors can take an elevator up to the mock control tower where you can see the planes landing and taking off at the nearby airport while listening to the communications between the pilots and air traffic controllers. I always forget how busy the airport is the number of aircraft flying by reminded me that it really is a busy transportation hub.

Back down on the ground floor we saw airplanes. And more airplanes as well as helicopters and other flying apparatuses dating back to the start of human flight. Visitors can circumnavigate the largest hanger on a catwalk which puts you both at eye level and above the numerous planes that are suspended from the ceiling. There were big planes and small planes, military aircraft and commercial jets. A Concorde jet anchored one section of the bay and visitors were able to walk directly under the plane's nose. Standing underneath it, you realize just how large (and fast) this jet was. The Udvar-Hazy Center is also home to the Enola Gay. But not all of the aircraft are large; we saw planes so small I would never even think about stepping foot inside of them. And as was the case with the museum in D.C., so many of the displays were interactive. There was even a Cessna where visitors of all sizes could sit in the cockpit and go through the motions of flying the aircraft.

But for me, the most impressive exhibit was the aircraft that filled the second hanger bay. NASA's retired Discovery Space Shuttle is the most recent tenant in the museum. From its first flight in 1984 to its final flight in 2011 the Discovery flew 149 million miles over the course of 39 missions including carrying the second American woman into space (Judith Resnik), being piloted by the first female captain (Eileen Collins), being the first shuttle to land at the International Space Station, and launching the Hubble Space telescope. And now the shuttle is spending her retirement in Virginia.

So if you are in the greater Washington D.C. area, make it a point to visit the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum. Better yet, visit both of them. You won't be disappointed.

As Sidney said, its a plane from the movie Planes!

The Discovery, the centerpiece of the
Udvar-Hazy Center

If you go:

Washington DC location:
Independence Avenue at 6th Avenue SW
202-633-2214
www.airandspace.si.edu
Open 10.00-17.30, extended hours on some days
Admission is free

Udvar-Hazy Center
14390 Air and Space Museum Parkway
Chantilly, VA
703-572-4118
www.airandspace.si.edu
Open 10.00-18.30
Admission is free but parking is $15.00 per vehicle

Carved From Sand: The Oostende Sand Sculpture Festival

Everybody's favorite little monster

I've lived near my share of beaches yet had never been to a sand castle festival before. I'm really not what I would consider a beach going person, usually visiting only one a year with friends,  so I chalk up my not attending one to the crowds, sun and heat that I associate with a summer time beach. But I'm living in Belgium now where country's beachfront property is limited to just a few kilometers along the North Sea (65 to be exact) and the sun and heat are fleeting summer visitors. So moderate temperatures and my son's love of Disney movies inspired us to visit the sand sculpture festival in Oostende, Belgium last weekend. And as it turned out, on a cool, windy and damp Saturday afternoon in July it was the perfect place to be.

Oostende is a Belgian beach resort sitting on the shores of the North Sea. We visited in early July when the seas were under yellow flag warnings, the lifeguards were bundled up in multiple layers and only a few brave soles were actually swimming in the rough water. (Belgium is not the place to visit if you want a beach vacation where you can actually go into the water).  But we weren't at the beach for the beach itself; we were there to check out the 8,000 square meters of Disney inspired sand sculptures that Belgian friends had told us was something we didn't want to miss.

From the moment we stepped into the fenced area protecting the sculptures from the brisk wind we knew we were in the land of Disney. The ubiquitous happy music that fills the air at all Disney parks was floating through the air. And the Disney movies, old and new, that we all love? They had been brought to life in the form of giant sand figures. We had kept Sidney in the dark about where we were going so he was immediately in awe as we stepped onto the beach and he came face to face with Mickey Mouse. Then he recognized the characters from Up...and Ratatouille..and Cars...and Mary Poppins. Around the corner we found the Lion King, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Snow White. For those of us old enough to remember there was Indiana Jones, Mark Twain, and the Swiss Family Robinson. Sidney scooted from one sculpture to another checking them all out and marveling at the over sized characters that he has only seen on the screen. (We're saving the required trip to Disney Paris for when he is a bit bigger). He was also enamored in watching the sand artists at work and promptly declared that he needed his own pail and sand to create his own castle.

And the intricate details? As an adult I was amazed at the level of details. No detail was too small for the artists who hail from around the world and descend on the beach each summer to turn 6,000 tons of sand into 3-D reproductions between 2 and 12 meters high. From the bark on trees to the hairs on the Lion King's mane the level of detail was impressive. Each shingle on the Disney castle was chiseled to perfection. Because of recent rains some of the works of art had been damaged so we were able to watch artists as they patched their work back together. With great care, sand and a bit of water they made repairs that blended in perfectly with the original works of art. And yes, these really are works of art. I'm not sure if I had a favorite as I liked them all. The boys in my family? Naturally they loved the Star Wars sculpture.

Finding Nemo

Winnie the Pooh and friends

The iconic castle

Cars

Peter Pan

The King of the Lions

and of course Star Wars........

The festival has been held annually since 1997 with over 5,000 sand sculptures being viewed by millions of visitors. And now we can include ourselves in those numbers. The sculptures will be on display until the end of August so there is still time to visit. Or if you can't make it this year (or you just want to see more as we do), you can visit next year. There really is something about Disney that brings out the child in all of us.

If you go:

Disneyland Paris Sand Magic
Strand Oostende
28 June - 31 August 2014
www.sandsculputure.be (check for future dates)
12 Euro for adults 8 Euro for children age 4 and over
Group discounts and handicap/stroller accessible

A Citadel On The Meuse: Namur

Namur with the looming citadel above

Because this is Belgium and you can't let a little (or a lot) rain stop your plans, a recent rainy weekend found us exploring the citadel in Namur. I'll be honest; prior to arriving in Belgium I had never heard of Namur but we hadn't been here long before people started telling us that this small city in central Belgium was a place we had to visit while we were here. And despite the rain, I'm glad we went.

With a population of just over 100,000 people, Namur isn't large. It is the capitol of both Namur province and the entire Wallonia region. Perched on the banks of the Meuse River the highlight of the town is its citadel. It is the first thing you see as you approach the town and you simply can't miss it because simply put, it is huge and one of the largest fortifications in Europe.

The original citadel dates to 937 but over time its perimeter has been expanded with its last major addition being added under Dutch control in 1675. It started out small but as the importance and regional influence of Namur grew, so did its citadel. Tunnels were built and expanded upon, a church was built within the confines of the walls and the walls were further expanded. Because of its strategic location Namur and its citadel were at various times occupied by the Spanish, Austrians, French and Dutch. The city fell to the Germans during both World Wars with the citadel being pillaged of its iron and metals in 1940. Like so much of Europe this granite fortress has a long and storied history. And a more complete history of the citadel can be found here.

Just a small snippet of the grounds. There are tunnels
throughout these walls

As we discovered, the beauty of the vast network of underground tunnels means we could escape the heaviest of the inevitable Belgian rain. We joined a small group of fellow tourists on a Dutch and English tour of one kilometer of the underground passages. (There are a total of 8 kilometers of tunnels under the citadel which is the largest underground network in Europe). Starting at Terra Nova, the highest level of the citadel, we descended down narrow stairs and deep under the ground. The tunnels had been developed as a means for soldiers to safely traversing the citadel grounds and were used from medieval times all the way through World War II and they had been adapted as the times changed. As we descended down the hill we moved from the 17th century and into more modern times. Small windows through which cannons could be shot gave way to even smaller openings for rifles. In the aftermath of the chemical warfare of World War I the tunnels were fortified with cement to make the chambers airtight and provide safe havens should the soldiers come under a chemical attack. (This portion of the re-fortification was never completed since the Germans captured and pillaged the citadel without the use of chemical weapons in 1940 during the Battle of Belgium).

During our tour we saw small chambers that were the sleeping quarters of hundreds of soldiers. Officer quarters were "roomier" but not much more comfortable. Offices, dining areas and communication centers also filled the chambers off of the tunnels. Sidney marveled at being in a place where "the soldiers lived and fought" and by the end of the tour was pointing out the various characteristics o the tunnels. It felt as though we were walking through a maze and by the time we finally reemerged at the foot of the gatehouse I had lost all sense of direction. But as our guide lead us back up the hill pointing out the various underground spots we had visited, it all started to make sense. 

And despite the intermittent rain the grounds were beautiful. They were expansive and mysterious and we wandered from one path onto another exploring the hidden nooks and crannies that make up the citadel. At the highest point of the hill we were afforded sweeping views through the lifting clouds of the river valley below us. Because we are in the midst of recognizing the 100th anniversary of the onset of World War I, the grounds include a small temporary exhibit depicting the destruction of Namur that occurred under German occupation. Pictures really do speak one thousand words.

I wish it hadn't been so wet during our visit but we are glad we visited. And we know we'll go back --hopefully on a drier day. After all, Namur is just one hour away from Mons.

The gatehouse

A misty view of the river from
the citadel

If you go:

Terra Nova
Route Merveilleuse 64
5000 Namur
+32 (0) 81.65.45.00
info@citadelle.namur.be

Open seven days a week from 30 March to 29 September, hours vary
The "Citadelle Pass" is 9 Euro for adults, 6 Euros for children between the ages of 5 and 18, senior citizens and teachers and grants access to all of the major sites.

The Prettiest Little Town In Belgium

Its been called the prettiest town in Belgium and having visited, I fully agree. If you've only seen one picture of a Belgian town, chances are the picture was taken here since over 2 million tourists visit each year. The town has miles of canals, and narrow cobble stoned streets meandering past well preserved medieval brick buildings. And yes, since it is so beautiful, there are tourists, lots of tourists. So what Belgian town am I talking about? The answer is Brugge.

Located in the northwestern area of Flemish Belgium, Brugge is a picture perfect postcard city of just over 100,000 residents whose center is a UNESCO world heritage site. Fortifications were first built around the town during the first century BC in an attempt to fend off pirates. Its strategic location and waterways made it an important trading port during the 12 through 15th centuries when the textile trade flourished. This was followed by an economic decline but the 17th century saw the revival of the lace industry and today Brugge is known for their famous handmade lace. During the 19th century tourism became a focal point for the town's economic revival with this trend continuing today.

The architecture:

Traditional "step" roof lines

A peak through an ache at one of the many steeples
dominating the Brugge skyline

My favorite house; the building itself is quaint and perched
right on a canal but I love this little patio garden.

There must be a lot of fireplaces in this house

Like just about every town or city in the BENELUX region, Brugge is just under two hours away from Mons making it a perfect day trip. That is just what we did last week on a perfectly sunny yet cool first day of summer. From the moment we stepped off of the train and into the large park surrounding the city center I knew we were in for a treat. Living in the middle of a city with few trees, I was immediately struck by the amount of green space in Brugge. From the trees and flowers to the green way surrounding the canals, this stone and brick town felt lush. And the stone and brick buildings lining the narrow cobble stoned streets of the city center were just so beautiful. Brugge is known for their steep "stepped" roof lines and it seemed as though just about every building had this architectural detail. Even the commercial areas of the town, filled with both unique boutiques and international chains had a quaint feeling about them. Businesses catering to tourists stood side by side with restaurants and shops where the locals buy their provisions. Despite its touristy reputation, Brugge felt like a real town where locals and tourists exist side by side.

But for me, Brugge is all about their waterways. Today the canals remain a focal point of the town resulting in Brugge being referred to as "the Venice of the north". They meander for kilometers through the town with low slung stone bridges spanning the waterways and connecting all parts of the city center. Because we had been told it was a Brugge "must do" we joined the masses and took a surprisingly inexpensive (7 Euro a person which is a steal by European standards) tour of the canals. Seeing the town from the water provided us with a whole different perspective. While the streets were crowded with tourists and despite the number of boats on the canal, the water was strangely relaxing, making us feel as though we weren't one of the thousands who had descended on Brugge for the day. I loved the houses whose walled backyards abutted the canals. I dreamily envisioned what it would be like to be able to sip after dinner drinks from my own canal side perch. (Hey, a girl can dream!). Passing under the bridges spanning the waterways was an experience as well. I knew they all had enough clearance for our boat to pass underneath but there were several where we could reach up and touch the underside of the bridges.  Now that is low.

After our boat tour we retraced our route on the roads, passing over the bridges we had just gone under, standing on the canal banks to see where we had been, and exploring tree filled plaza. Lunch was eaten in one such square in the shadow of the Belgian stepped rooftops where we ate traditional local foods, drank Belgian beer and watched families peddle by on their bicycles. Despite the crowds it was all wonderfully serene.

Canal views:

There wasn't a lot of head room when traveling under
the bridges

Boats were zipping up and down the canals  providing us
tourists the best views of the town

So pretty

The entire family fell in love with Brugge. In fact no sooner had we left than Sidney started talking about wanting to go back. He's also been pointing out the roof lines in our neighborhood that "have stairs just like in Brugge." We know we will be going back so be forewarned, if you visit us in Belgium we will be taking you to Brugge.

Canterbury Tales

Canterbury Cathedral

Following what has become a tradition during our family travels, no trip would be complete without a visit to the local cathedral. So while we were in Kent, the historic World Heritage UNESCO designated Canterbury Cathedral was an obvious choice. And this grand building was every bit as impressive as I had anticipated. 

The Cathedral as seen
from another angel

The Romanesque and Gothic structure was undergoing exterior renovations during our visit but the scaffolding did nothing to detract from her impressive facade. First the cathedral is old. Very old. It was first built in 597 then completely rebuilt between 1070 and 1077 then expanded upon over the course of the next century. It was originally home to the Catholic Church before becoming the home to the Church of England. While Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket was murdered in the Cathedral in 1170 after excommunicating and angering other bishops for breaching Canterbury's privilege of coronation. His death made Becket a martyr and resulted in the Cathedral becoming a place of pilgrimage, thus ensuring the Cathedral's expansion and ongoing prosperity. A shrine honoring Becket was constructed in Trinity Chapel and pilgrims visited under the auspices that the tomb was a site of healing. (The waves of pilgrims was portrayed in Chaucer's famous novel Canterbury Tales).

The magnitude of the Cathedral felt from the minute we stepped into the church. Despite the crowds (or pilgrims?), with its soaring ceilings and stone pillars the church had a serene and calming feel. Whereas I have found so many Roman Catholic churches to be ornate with gilded gold, ceiling frescoes, and rich stained glass covering every surface, Canterbury Cathedral felt stark in comparison. And this starkness was what made the church's interior feel so calming and welcoming. The crypt below the Cathedral is the oldest existing part of the church and proved to be the largest crypt I have ever visited. Although it had low ceilings is was cavernous and felt like it went on forever. And because we were visiting the Cathedral during the noon hour we had the opportunity to hear a choir singing in an informal recital. Their voices echoed through the building in a way that is only possible in a church. Sidney was so entranced by the performance that we sat and listened until the performance was over.

But there is so much more to a visit to the Cathedral than the cathedral itself. Unlike so many of the cathedrals we have visited, this one is set amongst lush grounds on the edge of the town. A walk through the manicured gardens was just as impressive as the interior of the church. By this point in the day the clouds had lifted and the sun was shining providing the perfect opportunity for a garden walk. We walked through the manicured grounds looking at the flowers, explored stone niches and peered through iron gates at cats lazing in the warm sunshine. Although the only thing that stood between us and the hustle and bustle of Canterbury's busy streets was a stone wall, if felt like we were miles away. It was peaceful and the perfect capstone for our latest cathedral visit.

One of the many gardens surrounding the Cathedral

A peak through the wall

If you go:

Cathedral House
11 The Precincts
Canterbury, Kent UK
+44 1227 762862
www.canterbury-cathedral.org

Open: 09.00-17.00

Keep To The Left

Friendly reminders greeted us upon disembarking
(and they were needed)

This past weekend we escaped to England for a few days. While we've done a lot of traveling over the past few years, this was our first trip to the U.K. and we were excited to explore the Kent countryside. And because we drove over through the Channel Tunnel, the first thing we noticed was the need to drive on the left. Yes, for the first time we found ourselves in a country where driving on the left is the law and it flew in the face of what we were accustomed to. Obviously we knew about this rule before arriving but finding ourselves on the road and actually having to drive in the "wrong" lane took some time to get used to.

So why do the British, and drivers in most other Commonwealth countries, drive on the left side of the road? The explanation (or this story at least) is actually quite logical and dates back to the 1700s. Because most people were right handed and therefore carried their weapon in their right hand, smart travelers always wanted to keep the people they passed on their right. But along came Napoleon who was left handed and in order to keep his sword between himself and his enemies, his armies started to march on the right. Americans, eager to shake off any remnants of colonial rule, followed suit and took to traveling on the right. American car manufacturers obviously built cars whose steering wheels were positioned on the left for right side driving. As the international market for American vehicles grew, more countries switched from driving on the left to driving on the right. But not Great Britain. Or so the story goes......

So what was our driving experience like? Fortunately Glenn did all of the driving by as the co-pilot I found myself repeating the mantra of "stay to the left, stay to the left" every time we got into the car. On the narrow country lanes that allowed for only a single lane of traffic to pass, we had no problem. In fact, we spent hours exploring the quaint villages where every house had a name and lush countryside that is Kent. These roads with charming names like Old Wives Lee, The Downs, and Fairy Close, and were alternately paved, hard packed dirt, or wet mud, forcing us to go slow and take in our surroundings. Just about every road was crisscrossed with pedestrian right of ways (walking trails) and lined by high hedges. Many felt like tunnels of trees with branches arching high over the right of way. It was simply so peaceful. We passed riders on horseback, people out walking their dogs, and too many sheep and rabbits to count. On the rare occasions we encountered an oncoming vehicle, one of us would carefully back up until we reached a wider section of road or one of the strategically placed pullouts and allow the other car to pass with a smile and a wave. (It felt as though the drivers here were so friendly).

This street was named......The Street

But then we encountered the highways where on and off ramps were accessed from the left and slow traffic kept to the left rather than the right. Intersections required the repeating of our mantra, following the verbal guidance of Sir Colin, our trusty GPS, and focused concentration about turning right while sticking to traveling in the left lane. Traffic circles, which were many, were much more difficult. Traffic moved clockwise forcing us to have to remember to look right instead of left for oncoming cars before nosing out into the traffic. Fortunately the signs were all in English (this was the first trip in three years where English was the local language) allowing us to focus on the cars rather than the signs. We counted the off ramps and somehow survived unscathed. I guess you could say that the driving was a bit exhilarating but I found myself longing for more quiet country lanes and fewer highways. There the driving was almost carefree.

So, when in England keep to the left, keep to the left. Until the train spits you back out on the Continent and then it is back to the right.

On The Ramparts Of Le Quesnoy

Yes, that is a vehicle bridge linking the town with the rest
of the world in the background

We are lucky to be living in a great location where so much of Europe is literally a stone's throw away. Such was the case on a recent weekend when we decided to visit the French town of Le Quesnoy, which we discovered is only a half hour away from our house. So yes, off we went to spend the morning in France. And what we found made this quick jaunt worth it and with its close proximity, I know it is a place we will be visiting again.

Le Quesnoy is located in northern France just over the Belgian border. Like so many of the other towns that dot the French and Belgian countrysides, Le Quesnoy has a long and storied history dating back to the Middle Ages. Over the years it has been defended, occupied, and / or abandoned by invading armies, most recently in 1940 when German forces were held at bay over the course of the four days during the Battle of France. This isn't what makes this little town with a population hovering around 5,000 so special. It is the great walls, or ramparts, surrounding the town that are bringing tourists and locals alike into this berg. That is, after all, what brought us there.

A wee stream flowing through the marsh

Two sets of five kilometer long brick ramparts circle the town creating a haven of green where mother nature and mankind meet. Truly. The area between the ramparts, what had been a part of the original "killing field" defense system of the town are now a nature preserve filled with streams, trees and flowers, and ducks. Lots and lots of ducks and other water fowl. A walking trail, dotted with strategically placed benches for sitting, alternated between the top of the ramparts and below, in between the brick walls. It meandered through the area creating a serene space that felt a world away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. The outer brick walls which had been rebuilt and refortified over time created a barrier between the preserve and everything else.

We visited on a cool and damp morning and essentially had the preserve to ourselves. I'm not exactly sure what we were expecting to find but my first impression was that the area was green. Very green and lush. Everything from the grass and trees to the flowers and vines clinging to the brick walls was green. If felt as though spring was definitely alive. And best of all, because this area is truly a pedestrian only zone, Sidney was free to run, play, and explore to his heart's content. (This is especially important since we live in a city with only the most minuscule of green space available to him). We watched ducks swimming in the stream, stumbled upon an entire field of bunny rabbits frolicking in the damp grass, and climbed up and down too many sets of stairs to count. We explored tunnels, introduced Sidney to the wonders of buttercups (one of my favorite childhood memories), and just had a wonderful and relaxing stroll. And Sidney being Sidney, he threw his share of rocks into the water and found "the biggest stick ever". (His words, not mine).

Le Quesnoy is a true gem and I am so glad we found it. It is truly a beautiful place. But since pictures say it best, here are a few of my favorites:

Lush grass, bricks, and stones

The only thing stirring was this Mallard

I have no idea why I am so fascinated by these trees, but I am

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday: Kolner Dom

Its A Small, Small World

The American interstate system
(in miniature)

During our recent stay in Hamburg, when it was simply too cold to spend an extended amount of time outside, we were desperate for an activity that would get us out of the hotel room while staying warm and allowing Sidney to burn off pent up energy. On a recommendation from ciaobambino.com, one that was enthusiastically seconded by the hotel concierge, we found ourselves at Minatur Wunderland, a truly German gem of a museum/exhibition space that entertains kids of all ages. (If fact, on the blustery Saturday we visited, over half of the visitors were adults-young, old, and in between-without children in tow). So what exactly is Minatur Wunderland? Honestly, we weren't one hundred percent sure ourselves as we bundled up and headed out into the cold. My only desire was that it be warm. Sidney wanted to see trains. Glenn said we were going to see a model railway. But Minatur Wunderland proved to be all this and so much more.

Housed in a renovated 1,300 square meter warehouse on a canal, this museum is a fantasy world for big kids and little kids alike; a place where no detail is too small. The three museum floors bring eight distinct communities and countries to life in miniature form moving from day to night-complete with dawn and dusk- every fifteen minutes. I felt as though we were giants as we wandered from the Swiss Alps to Austria and Germany to Scandinavia and back again taking in the most minute of details. Whether it be trains, buses or airplanes, all modes of transportation were fitted with tiny passengers toting even smaller pieces of luggage. And speaking of airplanes, the Knuffingen Airport includes planes landing and taking off (with sound effects of course), baggage carts and trams whizzing around the tarmac, and a parking garage complete with traffic jams. It was virtually impossible to pull Sidney (and Glenn) away from the airport but the enticement of more trains winding through the Alps, complete with snow capped mountains, hang gliders, and avalanches did the trick. In Scandinavia we saw a cruise ship navigating the fjords and a busy commercial port filled with barges and container ships all floating atop real water. In Germany we saw modern cities complete with lights and traffic jams as well as snow rural hamlets with grazing livestock.

And then we had America. It is always interesting to see what American stereotypes Europeans use to portray my motherland. And the stereotypes were all there. Naturally there was the Florida exhibit complete with palm trees and a space shuttle that launched every few minutes. And what American scene would be complete without throwing in a big of Vegas? Yes, Las Vegas was recreated in miniature form right down to the flashy casinos, Elvis impersonators, scantily clad dancers, and the neon filled Strip. Rounding out the American scene were the red rocks of the American southwest with a winding interstate snaking its way through the cliffs. A close look at the red rocks revealed ancient Hopi settlements, cowboys astride horses, and even a pioneer wagon. Yes, the creators took some historical liberties and blurred the centuries with the depiction of America but it was impressive none the less.

For me, the best part of each montage was finding the hidden bits of whimsy. It actually became a challenge to find them all. On a mountainside slope a woodsman used an axe to chop persistently at a tree until it fell. A naked couple frolicked in a field of sunflowers in another scene while a scuba diver was attacked by a crab in a Scandinavian harbor. Traffic clogged bridges and firefighters rushed to douse the flames in a burning building. Each urban montage seemed to include at least one traffic accident complete with ambulances, police officers, and tow trucks. These are just a few of the details that could be missed if you didn't look carefully. And despite all of the time we spent there, I know we missed numerous other details. The hotel concierge was right when he told us that we could get lost in the museum for hours. (Or as he said, I hope you don't have any appointments for the rest of the day).

Scandinavia, complete with real water

The parking garage and tower of the Knuffingen Airport

Trains meandering through the Swiss Alps

Glenn and I decided that working as an engineer (or in any position for that matter) at Minatur Wunderland would have to be one of the coolest jobs ever. Or how about spending a summer there as an intern? The thought almost makes me want to go back to school. And maybe they will be hiring in the future; scenes depicting Italy, France, Great Britain, and parts of Africa are all being planned. But even if you can't work there, make it a priority to visit if you are ever in the neighborhood. Regardless of your age, I promise you won't be disappointed.

Kruje Redux, Again & Again

Kruje was both our first and last day trip here in Albania.  Because of this, here's a repost of a popular blog posting from two years ago:

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We had been in Albania less than a month before we discovering the town of Kruje.  Located less than an hour driving time outside of Tirana (which is nothing given the road conditions in the country and the time it takes to drive the shortest of distances), this small mountainside town is historic, touristy, and breathtaking all at the same time.  It has become our go-to location to take our out of town visitors- both official and unofficial.

View of the castle ruins

During the 15th Century Kruje was an important part of Albania's resistance movement against the invading Ottoman Empire.  Under the leadership of Albania's national hero George Kastrioti Skanderbeg, its castle was a part of Albania's inter-connected communication system that ran the length of the country warning citizens of impending invaders.  Its strategic location is still apparent.  On a clear day, you can see the Adriatic Sea to the west, Montenegro to the north, and the snow covered peaks of southeastern Albania to the south. On one visit we were fortunate enough to see all three at sunset (we even saw the green flash of the sun sinking into the horizon- something we had only previously seen in Hawaii).  During all of our visits, with the sheer mountains serving as a backdrop, we've seen the rolling hills filled with olive groves giving way to the flatter coastal plains.  Sometimes the mountains are shrouded in low lying clouds but it is always beautiful.

By far, the main historical attraction of Kruje is its castle ruins and the Skenderbeg Museum.  While the walls remain, the castle itself is mostly in ruins.  It is possible to see the remains of some of the original buildings, including a mostly deteriorated monastery.  A small ethnographic museum depicting early life in Albania is located in one corner of the grounds.  And this being Albania, several cafes have been erected on spots that were once strategically placed lookout spots along the castle's exterior walls. 

In 1982, the Skenderbeg Museum, designed by Pranvera Hoxha, the architecture daughter of the later dictator, opened.  We've toured this museum on several occasions both by ourselves and under the guidance of English speaking docents.  As you wind through the warren of small rooms filled with ancient artifacts, maps, and historical reproductions, you are treated to a thorough retelling of Albania's ancient history.  The crowning jewel of the museum, however, is the panoramic views from the building's rooftop terrace.  From here you can see to the Adriatic and beyond.  (Sidney, of course, is partial to the spring fed water fountain that is built into the side of the museum's exterior walls).

The old Ottoman Bazaar; many a gift
has been purchased here

A well preserved stone lined Ottoman Bazaar serves as the heart of the tourist district.  Here aggressive merchants invite you into their shops to view their wares. Some of the goods are tacky- coffee mugs and magnets sporting the faces of Enver Hoxha, the late dictator, and Sali Berisha, the former long time Prime Minister. Soviet era military memorabilia (a helmet with a bullet hole??) shares shelf space with hand carved olive wood bowls and old rusted irons.  Other items are uniquely Albanian.Where else can you get a hand woven rug that sports both the Albanian and American flags and stone ashtrays shaped like the ubiquitous Albanian bunkers? Whatever your fancy; whether it be traditional wedding costumes, felted wool slippers and hats, hand embroidered tablecloths, antique dowry chests, or silver filigree jewelry, you can buy it here. Haggling is welcome as are Euros or even American dollars. You will be promised a deal because you are a "special friend".  If you have money to spend and want to shop, the Ottoman Bazaar is the place to go.

This would not be an Albanian town if it wasn't filled with smoke filled cafes and restaurants.  You don't go to Kruje because you want fine dining.  Whether tucked into nooks in the bazaar or perched a top the castle ruins, Kruje has its share of restaurants with menus boasting "traditional Albanian cuisines".  Roasted lamb and village chicken (whole roasted chicken served over heavily salted rice) accompany whatever grilled vegetable is in season.  As is the case in all restaurants in this country, pizza is always an option (and one usually taken by the Brown boys). Harsh tasting red wine and raki are the drinks of choice.  The often mediocre quality of the food is quickly forgotten since the scenic views are the real reason for your visit.

Kruje seems to have a little something for everyone and that is why we keep going back.  And as any one who has visited us can attest to, if you visited us in Albania, we took you to Kruje.

Clouds looming over the mountains

A Visit To Italy's Dying City

Civita di Bagnoregio perched atop the hill

Every time I visit Italy fall in love with the country even more.  Our most recent jaunt across the Adriatic took us to the Viterbo region.  Located north of Rome, the little piece of Italy is as beautiful as the rest of the country.  Because we were visiting friends who are lucky enough to call Viterbo home, we had the opportunity to see towns that are often missed by passing travelers in their rush to get from Florence and Rome.  We saw many beautiful places during our short tip (those will be topics for future blog entries) but my favorite place by far was the hilltop village of Civita di Bagnoregio.

Fog lifting over the Tiber River valley; this wouldn't be a bad
view to wake up to each morning

Called Italy's "dying city" due to its precarious location atop a plateau overlooking the Tiber River valley, this ancient Etruscan city dates back twenty five hundred years and was the birthplace of Saint Bonaventure who died in 1274.  Once a thriving community, extensive erosion of the clay earth, coupled by major earthquakes, helped hasten its decline to a shadow of its former self by the 17th century.  Today, Civita di Bagnoregio is essentially an island set off by itself, only accessible by a narrow, reinforced pathway.  This "island" is getting smaller as, despite ongoing countermeasures to prevent further erosion, buildings perched on the outer edges of the city are crumbling and falling into the valley below.  In 2006 it was listed on the World Monuments Fund's list of the 100 Most Endangered Sites because of the ongoing erosion.

Today only a handful of people call Civita di Bagnoregio home.  One census claims that there are 12 year around residents with the population "booming" to 100 in the summer.  Bed and breakfasts and cafes fill the remarkably well preserved structures that remain within the walls.  Because the village is a pedestrian only zone--even if vehicles could enter the walls, the narrow lanes would prohibit their movement---everything that can't be hand carried is driven in by golf carts and all visitors must walk up the long and narrow approach to reach the inner walls.  The day we visited there were few tourists and locals were busy staging the entire village for a live nativity scene.  Coupled with the lifting fog, the village felt as though it was trapped in time and it was the epitome of everything I think of when I dream about an Italian village.  We wandered the narrow lanes just taking it all in and marveling at the beauty.  In one shop we saw pictures of Civita di Bagnoreio through the ages starting when it was a part of the surrounding hillside towns to the isolated peninsula it is today.  The visible changes were obvious only driving home the notion that the village is literally falling off of the cliff.  Sidney was particularly entranced with the well fed and friendly (unless you were a dog) village cats that roamed freely.  I loved the hidden and meticulously maintained stairways and doorways leading into the buildings.  Despite it being late December, clay flowerpots overflowed with brightly colored blooming plants and vines.

Civita di Bagnoregio is one of the most beautiful and enchanting places I have ever visited and the thought that after thousands of years it may cease to exist, saddens me.  I feel fortunate that I was able to visit and definitely want to return.  As much as I fantasize about buying my own little piece of Italian real estate however, this is probably not the best place to invest.  But returning, and perhaps even spending the night in one of the small bed and breakfasts?  Now that sounds like the perfect Italian vacation.

A house with a view--for the moment anyway

Along the crumbling outer wall looking back into the village