3 days in Venice: Romance Capital of the World

We stepped out of the airport and negotiated our way to one of three ways to get into Venice. We easily bought tickets and found our bus to the train station. We decided against a water taxi due to cost and the amount of luggage we had and the private car ride to the train station was long and expensive. In all cases, we had a 10 minute walk after getting to the edge of the city to walk to our hotel located on the Grand Canal. We crossed the bridge from the train station and were visually struck by the true essence of Venice: the only ways to get around this beautiful city is by foot or by boat. The late day sun created sparkling reflections on the water. We stood there for a few moments to take it in.

Our hotel was in an old apartment attached to the hotel on the Grand Canal. We arrived on trash day that presented see-through plastic sacks hanging from the windows -  almost like little gift presentations with trash inside. We scheduled dinner the first night near our hotel at Antica Trattoria Alla Ferrata. We were the only tourists there. We listened to the spirited conversations at the bar and enjoyed our fresh pasta, with a nightcap of homemade limoncello. The next day we would join my sister and her husband in San Marco and pick up our friends Deb and Dan from the airport to begin the great adventure.

We ate breakfast on the Grand Canal, mesmerized by the different sorts of
cargo in the passing boats. Literally everything moves about on the water. We walked the forty minutes to San Marco Piazza. San Marco was empty when we arrived but quickly filled in with tourists. The church is between the clock tower and the Doge's Palace. We proceeded to San Marco Basilica, met my sister and her husband and we were those tourists with headsets. The explanation of the history of the church satisfied us and we quickly forgot our headset-shame. It seems that the Turks in Constantinople and the Venetians were always in battle to steal gold mosaics and columns from each other. The facade of the church held many vibrant gold mosaics stolen from the Turks during the 11th century Crusades. The reflection of the sun off the gold was spellbinding, stolen or not.

We ate lunch in San Marco square, visited the views from near Doge Palace and then left to head to the airport to collect our friends Deb and Dan. It was fun to repeat the entrance into the city to see their reaction. My favorite people were in my new favorite city. It was to be a great trip.

We dined at Trattoria Antica Besseta that evening, also near our hotel. The
food was really creative and tasty. I had a fish sandwich with radish mayo and catsup on black bread (not your ordinary fish sandwich). Dan had a seafood feast. Paul opted for pasta. Our desserts were the best part. We were among the last to leave that night and we
got our coats to walk back to the hotel. After we arrived at our hotel room, Paul discovered a strange pair of gloves in his pockets. He quickly realized that he had the wrong coat, though it was very similar to his own. He ran back to the restaurant and his coat was not there. Surprisingly, it was Paul's size, though was cut shorter, and the same color and brand. We never did find Paul's coat after going back to the restaurant several times. There is a children's novel in there about the traveling coat we think.

The next day was packed with activities, starting with an anniversary toast to

Paul, my husband of 37 years. We had a full agenda in the most romantic city in the world. I had an idea to end the day and to celebrate our anniversary with a gondola ride. We started with a tour of the Doge's Palace - a secret tour that took us to the
prison cells and hidden offices. Casanova was once a prisoner here and we saw where he escaped (according to legend). We visited the torture room and then the secret offices of the rulers of Venice at the time. We had lunch and then got on a boat to visit the island of Murano to see the glass factory. We watched the artists form the glass and we noticed many people in suits closing in around us as the "tour" ended. We were lead to the glass museum and shop and we were assigned a personal guide. We were aware that this was the opening of tourist season. Paul decided to surprise me by buying a piece of Murano glass for our anniversary. The shopping process was full of pressure, but we found a piece that would fit in our home and also fit our wallets. We left on the boat we came on and checked our pockets to make sure we still all in tact.

Ever since we decided to go to Venice, I was looking forward to spending our 37th anniversary on a gondola. I imagined a singer singing "When the Moon hits the sky like a big pizza pie, that's amore" and a ride at dusk. However, there were six of us and no room for a singer. I tried to talk Paul into singing for me (he is a great singer) - even offering to download a song on my phone so he could sing along. Cheesy and touristy, but what a memorable way to celebrate in Venice, huh. In reality, Paul didn't want to sing and held back to pay our gondolier a few extra Euros in tips if he would sing something. While he was hanging back, I crawled into the gondola seat and my sister crawled in next. They assigned her a seat next to me. We asked to trade seats so I could sit with Paul, but between the language difficulties and the unsteadiness of the boat, the gondolier refused to let us change. So my anniversary gondola ride with the "singing" gondolier next to my sweetheart was not turning out like I envisioned. Sometimes though it is the embracing the unexpected that memories are made. I hugged my sister and kissed her on the cheek while the gondolier kept singing "Volare, ah-ah-ah-ahhhh" (very off-key). We all laughed til we cried on the forty minute ride through the minor canals in Venice. Paul told me later that he enjoyed seeing me laugh with my sister and that made his day. Romantic? No. But endearing? Yes! To the end of my days, I will remember our 37th anniversary. I also have my piece of Murano glass to commemorate it.

We wandered the narrow streets of Venice that night and window shopped before dinner,
finding the custom-designed masks, trinkets, leather bags, and pastries (food porn) in the windows.

The next morning, we took Deb and Dan to visit San Marco Basilica and they went out on the balcony above San Marcos piazza.  I lingered in the Piazza and resisted the numerous gypsy beggars that were extremely persistent.We grabbed lunch and headed on the People mover to make our way to the cruise port. We were about to leave the romantic city of Venice and embark on a Mediterranean cruise. One parting thought was this: I haven't seen one set of Venetian blinds. The lasting thought was how the city of Venice grabs hold and make you feel part of it. It was much better than we could have imagined, "Volare" and all that.

Krakow Understands Freedom

We arrived late in Krakow Saturday evening just in time to check into our hotel and make it to our dinner reservation at a traditional Polish restaurant called Morskie Oko. We were seated in the basement where two parties of large family gatherings were already seated. I ordered perogies and soup, and Paul ordered goulash and we drank some aperitifs while the string ensemble started playing some Polish folk music. The elderly matriarch of one family, complete with a peasant style skirt and colorful scarf on her head, made her way to dance floor to dance to the folk music with the children. We immersed ourselves in the music and good food and enjoyed the company of the Polish families nearby.

The next morning in the market square, we observed that the buildings
were mostly dark and gloomy in Krakow, many of them darkened with age and neglect, maybe even  some of them from the reflection of despair. It has only been since 1981 that Poland was free and not under communist rule. Previous to that, it was oppressed by Hitler's regime. The spirit of the people was far from oppressed. We intended to go to mass at St. Mary's Basilica and we arrived early. The mass from the previous hour was still going on. We would have waited in the church but there was not one empty seat or place to stand. We went back outside and walked around the block and found in just the central market area 22 Catholic churches and each of them had five or six masses on that Sunday morning. We went back to the Basilica as mass was letting out and it was almost impossible to get into the church for the number of people waiting outside to get in. The Polish people had an appreciation for the freedom to go to church. In all the cities I have visited in Europe, Krakow gets the prize for the most church attendance; the church was filled with all ages of devout worshippers. After mass, we visited the altar of Karol Wojtyła, the bishop of Krakow who became Pope John Paul II.

We left the church and walked across the square to Cloth Hall, a market of
handmade goods, Polish dolls and costumes, and pottery. After a few purchases, we stopped to have a Polish beer and lunch and then dropped off our purchases at the hotel before we walked up the hill to Wawel castle. Krakow was the seat of the Polish throne in 1025 and the first coronation of the king took place at Wawel castle. The walk to the castle was a treat, walking through a city park filled with colored leaves and many people strolling. We hiked up the castle and the grounds were amazing, as well as the view over the Vistula (Wisla) River. We considered visiting the inside of the castle and  Leonardo da Vinci's painting Lady with an Ermine, but the lines were long and it was a gorgeous day to be outside. We lingered to watch several newly-married couples walk the grounds to get wedding photos.

We found an Italian restaurant called Trattoria Mamma Mia back by our hotel and ordered Polish wine and an artisan pizza for dinner. This pizza was the best I have ever eaten. The ingredients were fresh, but the crust was exquisite. We didn't expect to find great pizza in Krakow and were pleasantly surprised. We did miss eating with the large families that evening, this night seemed to be older couples and tourists.

The following day was going to be a long one in many respects. We hired a guide to take us to Auschwitz and Birkenau, the concentration camps of World War II just outside of Krakow and then afterwards to the Wieliczka Salt Mines on the outskirts of the city. As a student of World War II having retraced my Dad's steps throughout Europe from his service during the war, I felt I had to go to fully understand the atrocities of the war. I had a patient in the early 1980s who had been a prisoner in Auschwitz and he was ever present on my mind that day. He was a very sweet widowed man who had no children and his sweet approach with those he met stayed with you, in spite of having a Auschwitz tattooed prisoner number on his arm.

The drive to Auschwitz was beyond beautiful. The red

roofs in the valley below blended with the fall foliage in the woods. On the way there, the driver started a movie in the car to give a history of the camp we were about to visit. The movie didn't make it nice. The actual footage of prisoners was shown as well as the remnants of possessions and bodies. What I was viewing inside the car was very different from what I was seeing through the window. It was extremely hard to watch and we approached Auschwitz with a heavy heart and immense sadness.

We walked through the gates recognizing that this place was hell for the prisoners there. We saw photos of the prisoners as they were registered (unless they were killed immediately after they got off the train). They had their possessions taken and their heads shaved and the look in their eyes was extremely fearful. Officially between 1.1 and 1.5 million people died at Auschwitz by the hand of the Nazis. Some people estimate that over 4 million people were killed here. We solemnly walked through the camp, past the gas chambers and furnaces, and the atrocity of what occurred here buried into our hearts. It was impossible to fathom what took place in this camp. We honored the lives that were taken and realized that we stood on Holy ground. Appropriately, this is the end of my travels to study the war.

We drove away and I kept thinking of the many books that I read and of my friend who was a prisoner here. There were some who made it out alive and somehow they managed to go on with their lives. As Elie Wiesel says, "to forget a holocaust is to kill twice". Below is the furnace, the pit where bodies were placed, and memorial for those that died.

We stopped for a snack of perogies and a beer,  and then entered the salt mine on the way home. Wieliczka was started in the 13th century and had continuous mining operations until 2007. Salt prices dropped then and there was flooding in the area, so the mine was shut down and reopened later as a museum. After descending a thousand feet deep, we entered the first of four rooms. The miners were predominantly Catholic and salt statues of religious figures were throughout the passage ways. There was one room containing an altar and masses are said here once a month, and wedding are conducted here as well. 

It was interesting to see the mines, but at the end of the long day, I was glad to leave. The salt mine was interesting but Auschwitz was still on my mind. I wanted to step outside and take in a breath of air. I exhaled and realized that I will never take freedom for granted. Freedom is the oxygen of the soul. 

It's All Right and Good Cheap Beer: Czech-Style

Our trip to Prague was cancelled last summer - we were supposed to cycle from Munich to Prague along the river when our cycling friend's mother died unexpectedly. The city never fell off our adventure list and we decided to squeeze in a quick trip before our move back to the States, this time without the bikes. We arrived with only a few preparations and no expectations - the best way to travel.

Saturday offered us the bluest skies and we used  the 
opportunity to cross the St. Charles Bridge to go see the Prague Castle. First off, the St. Charles bridge was almost a section of the city itself. It is a pedestrian bridge with religious statues along the way spanning the Vltava River. People weren't using it as a means to get from one side of the river to the other, but instead were just hanging out along the bridge, looking at the artist booths, the street performers and enjoying the nice day. We wandered along with them. Eventually we reached the other side and climbed the hill to see the Castle (Prazsky hrad -where the President of the Czech Republic lives) and St. Vitus Cathedral. The inside of the cathedral was mostly closed off, but not before we could appreciate the stained glass windows with the intense sun reflection on the inside. The guards with trumpet and drum patrol changed shifts with much pomp and circumstance. The ceremony to change guards was fun to see, not merely a handing off of the weapons used to guard the Castle.

As we left, we smelled the roasting sausages and decided to pick up some street food while watching the street performers. The brat sausages were to Paul's liking and I noticed that sauerkraut and potatoes were available for vegetarians. Yum! There were many outdoor markets and street musicians also in this vibrant area of town.


We left Castle hill and returned to our hotel on the right bank of the Vltava River, near Old Town Square. It was too glorious to be inside, so we hiked to the Old Town Square to people watch. We came across more food trailers and bought some Trdelnik - a roasted bread pastry that is either covered in sugar and cinnamon or slathered on the inside with Nutella. The smell from the rods of Trdelnik was very satisfying. We realized that we had not eaten at all in a typical restaurant, but had munched on street food all day - very tasty street food.

Sunday we got up early to be on the St. Charles bridge before it was busy to get some photos of the saints on the bridge. We thought we had an appointment for a bicycle tour of the city that morning, but there was a miscommunication with the tour company. We rebooked for the next morning and took the cycling guide's advice on finding some good breweries in the city to take in some inexpensive beer since we had some open time. We also wanted some traditional Czech food so we went to Novomestsky Pivovar for a beer and some Czech food - potato rolls, sausages, pork chops, sauerkraut, and boiled potatoes (for my husband, the meat eater). I had a pretzel with mustard and salad. We left there and considered going to some of the historic breweries on the west side of the river, but decided to halt on the day-drinking to see more of the market square and to be outside. There is a beer called X33 that has an alcohol content of nearly 12%. We also considered going to get some original Budweiser beer (we've had it before - it is truly tasty). We passed on it. The cobblestone streets are very uneven when walking sober, it's seemed dangerous to drink more.

Sunday evening, we bought tickets to a classical music concert with a soprano and string quartet. It was to be held in an old monastery, now converted to concert hall and office building. While we were waiting for the concert to start, a violin player was playing outside the open windows, courting the restaurant patrons outside. The bass player went to the window five minutes prior to start time to call the violinist upstairs so the concert could start. It was a fantastic venue and very nice music, complete with a mix of traditional Czech folk songs.

Monday we started our appointed bike tour, which included a history talk of various points around Prague. We started near the bike shop and saw the Powder Tower, one of the oldest structures that was part of the town wall. The gun powder was stored here to keep it away from the enemy. We pedaled to the Old Town Square at the Astronomical Clock. We waited until it dinged on the hour to see the twelve apostles at the top and the statues perform below as they have for several centuries. We looked around the Square to see the Church of our Lady before Tyn, as well as the original city hall that had been mostly destroyed by the Nazis on their way out of town. The National Gallery, a very unique building, holds a prominent place on the square.

We left the main square and rode down narrower streets to the Jewish Quarter, which for the most part was still in tact from WWII. Hitler decided to use this Jewish neighborhood as a Museum and therefore, most of it was not destroyed during the war. The oldest Jewish temple in Europe is located in this section of town. We crossed the bridge to see a few sites on the west side of the river, but mostly we found ourselves looking back at the view of the East side of the city. We found a couple unique pieces of art along our ride. We were within a block of the Lennon Wall, but our guide seemed to be pressed for time and didn't even mention it. We found Wenceslas Square and heard about the starts of revolutions by the people that have taken place over time, including the Velvet Revolution that started with 20,000 students protesting Communist rule in 1989. The next day there were 500,000 people in the square. Days later the Communist leaders resigned and it was the end of Communism in the Czech Republic after 41 years of control. We arrived back where we started at the bike shop after two hours of cycling. We ate lunch outside near the Municipal House at an active outdoor market to rest and people watch.

After lunch, we immediately went back to the west side of the river to find the Lennon Memorial wall and to figure out where to catch the funicula for our dinner at Nebozizek, on the peak of the Petrin Hill overlooking the city. We found the area where the wall was to be and at first was very disappointed. It was small and the graffiti to memorialize Lennon was not very artistic. There were over 500 locks on a bridge over a small waterway. We were not impressed. We were getting ready to leave, when I looked down an alley and caught a glimpse of the REAL Lennon wall. It would have been terrible to miss this tribute to John Lennon. A lone guitarist was playing "Imagine" as we walked up. I just wanted to be there. It occurred to me that though Lennon had never visited Communist Prague, his pacifism through music touched everyone. The Communist youth dared to paint this wall when Lennon died even though his music was banned by the communist regime.  The art on the wall has evolved over time, but it still seems like a coming together to celebrate not only Lennon, but a celebration of giving peace a chance. I was touched.

We traveled along the river and found out sadly that the funicula to Petrin hill was out of service, which would require a 30 minute uphill climb on our part to get to our dinner reservation for the night. As it started to rain and then became foggy, we decided that dinner back at our hotel sounded better and better. We would be missing the view at the top of Petrin hill anyhow. We dined on beetroot soup, and other Czech delights at our hotel and then returned to our room to log in to watch some of our favorite football teams in America as it rained outside. Yes in Prague as well as the rest of the world, Lennon taught us "whatever gets you through the night . . . it's all right, it's all right".

Budapest: Renewal

Budapest is the "most foreign" city to which I've traveled. There were many things that didn't feel familiar, the language, the currency, the food, but most importantly -  the feeling that freedom is not something this country has experienced until recent years. We traveled on September 11th and freedom may have been ever present on my mind as we arrived in the city. It was a bit unsettling that week to travel because of the anniversary of 9/11 and the fighting between Russia and the Ukraine had intensified. Hungary is on the border with Ukraine, though the opposite border from Russia.

When we arrived, we walked around the center of Pest - the east side of the city near our hotel and I observed several things: the new Jewish memorial for the Holocaust victims, the beautiful St. Stephen's Basilica lit at night, and the dark vibrant street of ethnic restaurants close to our hotel.

Many policemen and women were near the Holocaust memorial and a woman came up and gave us some literature asking us to please read. The protesters thought the memorial ignored and glossed over the Hungarian government's participation of the Jewish extermination. Instead of looking at the government memorial, the protesters asked us to consider looking at the makeshift memorial that the Jewish families put at the base of the government statue which contained victims' personal belongings and photos. It was indeed a poignant testament to the lives that were lost in extermination camps during WWII.

Early the next morning - in the rain, Paul and I traveled to Szechenyi Baths, a Turkish style bathhouse with 3 outdoor pools and 18 indoor pools with medicinal natural hot spring waters, complete with steam and massage rooms. These baths were built in 1913 and the buildings surrounding the baths were very ornate. We had an appointment for massages and also wanted to relax in the baths. Our massages allowed us to unwind. Afterward we went outside to the hot spring baths to watch some older gentlemen playing chess on the built-in marble chessboards, probably something they have been doing for decades. We spent an hour or two under the fountains and in the healing warm pools of waters to people watch and enjoy.

On the way home, we went by St. Stephen's Basilica - an active Roman Catholic church completed in 1905 named for the first king of Hungary (year 975) who offered his crown for the good of God and the Catholic church. His right hand is a relic located in the church signifying the importance of performing God's works. We found there would be a concert that night in the church with the pipe organ, a trumpet and a mezzo-soprano vocalist. The concerts enable the many musicians in the city to perform and also allows the church to pay for the preservation of the Basilica.

After dinner at a hummus bar, we arrived at the church to a sparsely lighted sanctuary with magnificent artwork and Carrara marble statues. One painting caught my eye by Benczur - St. Stephen offering his crown to the Virgin Mary with baby Jesus. The lighting surrounding Jesus's head was brilliantly white, even in the darkened church. During the concert, the mezzo-soprano vocalist sang three versions of Ave Maria and many other classical pieces that were performed in my daughter Stephanie's wedding last year. The music was extraordinary. Between the darkened environment of the church, the lighted artwork and the brilliant music, I found myself crying during much of the concert as the music washed over me.


Paul and I went across the Danube river the next morning to Buda - the city that was united with Pest in 1873 to see the older part of the city. On our way over, we saw the memorial of the shoes on the river banks.  It honors the Jews who were killed by fascist militiamen in Budapest during WWII. The people were ordered to take off their shoes, and were shot at the edge of the water so that their bodies fell into the river and were carried away. This memorial represents their shoes left behind on the bank. I could only imagine the tears that fell into the river that day.

Across the river is the Grand Palace, which is now filled with museums and exhibits since there is no monarchy. The President's offices are also on this side of the river. We walked around the cobblestone streets and it started raining. We found shelter at the top of the hill at a cafe which overlooked the valley below. We drank some Hungarian Budweiser (very different than the US kind) while it rained. We booked a river cruise for the evening to see the city at night from the Danube. It stormed during much of the evening, but we stayed sheltered inside the glass roof of the boat to watch the lightening show over the magnificent city. 

On our last morning there, we returned to St. Stephen's Basilica to go to a Hungarian mass. The mass is the same all over the world - except for the homily - whatever language it is spoken in. It was a chance to be inside the Basilica again - a place that felt like home. We left for the airport after mass and it was still raining. It occurred to me that in coming to visit Budapest, I felt renewed. I don't know if it was the water from the spas, being on the banks of the Danube river, crying during the concert, or just getting wet from the rain, but I felt cleansed. Travel - and being renewed -  allows me to open up to new ways of thinking and feeling and it leaves me with a quiet soul. I am glad I have the freedom to travel.

Definition of a Hero

I've known many World War II heroes in my life. But most of them didn't emphasize this often little-known fact about themselves to others. The years they spent in the war never came up in conversation, except sometimes incidentally. My Dad, three of his brothers, and three of my mother's brothers served in WWII and came home with medals. In my Dad's case, he received a Purple Heart, two Oak Leaves (essentially 2 additional Purple Hearts), four  Presidential Unit Citations, the European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Ribbon, and a Combat Infantry Badge.  He also came home with a piece of shrapnel still behind his ear. He never talked about it.

I don't think my Dad ever knew the profound impact his years of service had on the world. There are two kinds of heroes. Heroes who shine in the face of adversity, who perform an amazing feat in a difficult situation. And heroes who live among us, who do their work unceremoniously, unnoticed, but who make a difference in the lives of others. My dad was a hero in both regards.

Last week, I was able to spend some time in the company of WWII veterans who are also heroes.  They came to the Netherlands to commemorate the 70th Anniversary of the Liberation of the Netherlands. One American veteran named Armando Marquez, 90 years young, was in the 101st Airborne and dropped into the Netherlands in 1944 during Operation Market Garden. He was flown by the Dutch government from El Paso, Texas to the Netherlands with his wife Christina of 66 years and his daughter Martha to attend the week-long ceremonies to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the Liberation. I met with him at a lunch stop in a tank and military vehicle procession and got to know a little bit about him. We bonded as fellow Texans, he said he was glad to know someone from home. This was his first trip back to Europe since the war. In coming back, I think he was starting to know the impact his service made on this world. His regret was that from his company, he was the only still living.

Many attending the procession wanted Armando's autograph, some wanted to ask him questions about the war, and others just wanted to say thank you. During our conversation, we were interrupted many times by others who wanted some of his time. I commented to him that he was like a "rock star", considering the following he had among the attendees. I asked his wife if he told any stories of the war and she mentioned that he wouldn't keep quiet about it. Armando leaned over and said he only told the good stories.

Armando's first jump during combat was in Normandy and his second jump during Operation Market Garden, when he landed in Son. He lost his helmet during the jump and grabbed one from a soldier who unfortunately would not need his after his jump. In Armando's home in El Paso, he has a photo of a German tank in the streets of Eindhoven, newly decorated with American flags after the liberation.

Later, I asked Armando if he realized that these people thought he was a hero. I mentioned to him I talked to a gentleman during the procession who was a 8-year-old boy during the Liberation of Eindhoven 70 years earlier. This man remembered the tanks and military men in the streets that day and in his mind, those men saved his family and his country. Armando smiled and didn't answer for a while. He said that he supposed that perhaps they thought he was. His smile was slow. It is worth celebrating 70 years if for only to let one veteran know that his courageous efforts and service in the World War II really mattered. Armando is an ordinary hero from Texas whose actions 70 years ago defined greatness.