Booth online musings

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 16

2011-12-07T06:49:00.000-08:00

We had the usual buffet breakfast and set off into Savannah, Julia’s internet research had yielded Savannah Dan who did daily walking tours of the city. We found his starting point and waited. Julia had spoken to his wife on our mobile so we knew we were in the right place and several other couples arrived to reinforce our belief. Just after ten Savannah Dan appeared, He was slightly large than life, dressed in a pale cream seersucker suit and matching Panama hat, he introduced himself and saluted another man in our group who had also been in the US Military, when he got no real reaction from the ex-soldier he kept his salute in position and remarked, “I never drop mine until I get one back!” His victim threw him back a salute and the briefing continued, “As we will be on crossings cars should stop for us, but let me get the traffic stopped before you cross. They will yield to seersucker!”
His outline of the development of Savannah was very illuminating, he pointed out that the city was a grid of squares joined by streets; he claimed that at each square two sides were devoted to banking and commerce while the other two were housing. We were starting at Johnson Square, named for Governor Robert Johnson of South Carolina who had supported the colonists in their early stages.
The walk took us to the next square which was where Tomo-Chi-Chi, was buried. He was the great chief of the Yamacraws, the local tribe of native Americans, who had befriended the settlers and on his deathbed he announced that he wanted to be buried with his new friends. Some years later his gravesite which formed a monumental mound in the center of Wright Square was destroyed to make room for the erection of the Gordon Monument. The wife of the governor of the time took it upon herself to take up arms in defense of Tomo-Chi-Chi and managed to get a memorial placed in the square. On it an inscription reads: "In memory of Tom-o-chi-chi. The mico of the Yamacraws, The Companion of Oglethorpe, and the Friend and Ally of the Colony of Georgia." it is possible this is the only memorial erected for a Native American by descendants of European settlers.
SD told us that the ground around the stone is beaten flat and kept weed-free by the many Girl Scouts that he takes on tours, he gets them to run round the stone three times chanting, “Speak to us Tomo-Chi-Chi great Mico of the Yamacraw” when they complete their circuits he tells them to put their ears against the stone to hear what he says.
He then asks what they heard and someone always says, “Nothing!” To which he replies, “He always says that!” SD went on to say that there is always one Girl Scout who doesn’t get it, “Bless her heart” he remarked.
The best bit of the tour is Forrest Gump’s bench. First SD pointed out the iconic white steeple which the feather drifts past on the wind, then we reached Chipawa Square, there is a flowerbed by the roadside but no bench. This was where they filmed the opening scene, when Forrest is waiting for a bus. The first bus approaches from the right of the shot and Forrest remains seated. As SD pointed out, the bus arrives coming the wrong way down a one way street, this meant that in addition to all the other arrangements made for the filming the traffic was rerouted. There were most of the Savannah police and Sheriff’s department was at the shoot. There was no great excitement about the whole thing at the time; in fact most people felt that Tom Hanks looking stupid was not news. However, when the film broke box office records and won Oscars, Savannah regretted their previous indifference and wanted as much credit for their part in the venture as possible. They requested a bench to be placed in the municipal museum and the film makers obliged with one of several they had produced in fibre glass for studio takes. Meanwhile the original bench was unaccounted for, SD told us that when shooting was finally over and the circus was moving on, the props master faced with the choice of packing the bench away or offering it to anyone who wanted it he took the easier option, which is why it is in the back yard of a Savannah police sergeant to this day.
We had preceded a couple of blocks when Forrest Gump ran down the other side of the street, without breaking stride SD remarked, “That there is Forrest Gump. Coach. Just a local idiot.” Quoting straight from the movie.
We passed the home of the American Girl Scouts where they were founded. Juliette "Daisy" Gordon Low assembled 18 girls from Savannah, Georgia, on March 12, 1912, for a local Girl Scout meeting. She believed that all girls should be given the opportunity to develop physically, mentally, and spiritually. With the goal of bringing girls out of isolated home environments and into community service and the open air, Girl Scouts hiked, played basketball, went on camping trips, learned how to tell time by the stars, and studied first aid. It also, as SD told us, gave her something to do while her wealthy husband ignored her and brought his mistress into their house.
The tour was one of the best things we did on our entire trip; I would have loved to record the full commentary. When we passed the cemetery he told us two stories which stick with me.
When Henry Ford launched production of his Model T Ford he used a plentiful natural resource, Spanish Moss, to stuff the upholstery as it was so much cheaper than horse hair. Within weeks the mites in the vegetation had bitten all the drivers causing itching and soreness, this led to the first ever total recall, all 32 vehicles.
When Savannah was taken by the Union army their troops were billeted in the cemetery, they made space for their tents by breaking the headstones off at ground level and stacking them against the outer walls. They also evicted the remains from mausoleums in order to sleep inside. Less understandable was the looting from the bodies and the vandalism of headstones for humour, apparently by altering letters and numbers with their bayonet points they produced people who had died before they were born. SD was still quite bitter about all this and he remarked, “The North won the war but we got Sweet tea, Nascar and Lynyrd Skynyrd so its all good!”
While I was amused by his quip I actually take issue with the idea that the sort of hardened soldiers who had fought through the Civil War and seen all its horrors could be criticized for not being sensitive to the long dead in the territory of their enemy.
At the end of the tour we paid SD and he said that please feel free to write positive reviews of him on the various travel sites but could we please not claim he had any supernatural powers for fear of his next customers being disappointed that he couldn’t fly.
Our first stop in Savannah now we were free to explore was Leopold’s Ice Cream Parlour, SD had told us its story as we had passed, it basically combines the best ice cream in the world with movie memorabilia. Having originally opened in 1919 by three immigrant brothers from Greece: George, Peter, and Basil Leopold who learned the art of candy and dessert from an uncle who had already settled in America. The brothers perfected the secret formulas and created the world famous Leopold’s VeriBest ice cream. The original Leopold’s Ice Cream shop closed in 1969. Stratton Leopold, the youngest child of Peter Leopold, kept many of the original fixtures in storage while he pursued his dreams of working in Hollywood. On August 18 of 2004, Stratton and his wife Mary officially reopened the legendary family business. The original fixtures Stratton had kept were used, including the black marble soda fountain and wooden interior phone booth. The shop has a beautiful old-fashioned flair with some modern decorative additions – posters and props from Stratton Leopold’s film career.
We opted for a double scoop on a cornet and immediately realised that a single scoop would have been enough but it was so good.
Next we headed down to the dockside and walked along, as we strolled there was a fly past of two WW2 bombers and I got a great shot of the B17 Flying Fortress but the Liberator was almost out of range.
We next walked up Martin Luther King Street to the tourist information office, Julia went in and asked about the planes and the staff suggested going to visit the Museum of the Mighty Eighth Airforce.
We drove out to Pooler and found the Mighty Eighth Airforce Museum, it took me some time but I worked out eventually that the Eighth was a large combination of all the USAF aircraft operating out of the UK. These aircraft were either long range bombers or their escorts. The RAF undertook the night operations over occupied Europe and Germany while the Americans did the day light operations. Both forces suffered horrendous casualties, the RAF Bomber command suffered 55% losses over the duration of the war and the USAF were similar. I recently watched a programme on TV about the famous Dambuster raid, the Squadron Leader was Guy Gibson, he not only dropped the first bomb but he then followed the rest of his team down their bombing runs to draw some of the enemy antiaircraft fire, anyway his plane and crew returned safe from that raid but by the end of the war they were all dead.
Bomber Command has a personal significance for Julia’s family, her uncle Geoff, her mother’s brother aged 20, was killed on a bombing raid when his plane was shot down, of course that meant that Julia never knew Geoff, Uncle Albert survived the war despite being shot down over Holland. His story needs to be told, when the plane was on fire and doomed, he could not persuade another crew member to jump, and eventually he had to leave him. After being looked after by a Dutch family for several days, Albert decided that he could not keep putting them at risk and left their house. When he was captured and interrogated he asked innocently about which part of Germany he was in, hoping that this would imply he had been hiding from everyone since he had landed. It may have worked because I know he went back to visit the family after the war.
It was poignant then that the museum has an Escape and Evasion Exhibit which is housed within a helper’s home known as a safe house, which allowed many downed fliers to escape from Nazi-occupied countries and return to England.
The POW Exhibit explores daily life for those fliers captured by the Germans, including an examination of their treatment and living conditions, Albert was involved in a “Death March” as his POW camp was evacuated in the face of the allied advance but he survived again.
The exhibits were impressive; I always enjoy the real planes so the Museum’s very own B-17 Flying Fortress being restored as the “City of Savannah” had a special appeal. This time however I enjoyed as much a model of a USAF base showing the base of the 401st Bomb Group. Each 8th Air Force Bomb or Fighter Group had its own air base in England with a similar layout. I found it helped me understand what we had seen in York when we visited RAF Elvington which was a wartime bombing station and is now home to The Yorkshire Air Museum. The control tower at Elvington has a situations board displayed which shows a flight of Halfax bombers, listed by their call signs, that have just undertaken a mission, one failed to set out, engine trouble, several had returned at various times dependant on their damage, and at least three were overdue, feared lost. It brought home something of the true feelings of the time.
In the same way at Pooler visitors have the opportunity to reflect on the sacrifices made by the veterans as they visit the Chapel of the Fallen Eagles. This beautiful stone chapel is built to resemble an English chapel and is meant to give visitors a place of quiet reflection it may in fact do more since not all Americans travel abroad and they may have little clear idea where loved ones spent their last days.
Incidentally while speaking to one of the veterans at the museum I was introduced to the legend of Major General Lewis E. Lyle, he was instrumental in getting the museum up and running but as a younger man he flew a record number of missions from England, I was told he flew many more than were recorded due to his habit of briefing the squadron then as they arrived at their aircraft to make final preparations he would pick a pilot, and give him the night off in order to fly in his place. Since he always brought his plane back the rest of the crew were quite happy with the swap. He did survive the war and in building the museum he joined a group of veterans pledged to honor the courage and commitment of more than 350,000 members of the 8th Air Force. Of this number, 26,000 were killed in action and 28,000 became prisoners of war during World War II.
We returned to the hotel and later drove along to the same area as we were the previous night but we ate at a more expensive venue, The Longhorn Steak House – when we got the credit card bill at home it still looked very good value.

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 15

2011-12-06T07:10:00.000-08:00

We had considerable debate about Montgomery v Birmingham in Alabama; it was mainly wasted energy because we had little time available for either, we opted for Montgomery as Birmingham added time onto both the day before and after. There is quite a lot to see in both mainly concerning Civil Rights but we had our longest day’s journey ahead of us, 340 miles in, multimap suggested, 5 hours and 20 minutes.
We set off by about 11.00am and we travelled pretty well and reached our Savannah La Quinta by about 5.30pm. I have hardly mentioned check in at any hotel up to now because they had all been smoothly accomplished. We were very practiced by now and had our passports available, our credit card poised and our voucher proffered. The receptionist was charming but, from early on, things did not appear to be normal, she battled with the computer, looked puzzled, looked at us confidently waiting for her to sort it out and returned to assaulting the computer. Then she started to ask us questions that we had not been asked previously, like what beds do you want? I realised something was wrong so I asked if we had a booking on her system, when she admitted that we had not I started checking my file; we were at the wrong Savannah La Quinta! It had the same road address but a different number. Once explained we reset the SatNav and set off again, we were frustrated by the delay after a long drive, and puzzled by the route on the screen, turning us off and sending us in a loop, compared to the receptionist telling us we needed to stay on the same road. We stuck with SatNav, we had known her longer than the receptionist, but they were both right, we rejoined the same road much further on and this time the Savannah La Quinta, knew we were coming and had all ready for us.
We were going to be here for two days and the hotel was further out of town than we would have wished but that discovery was for tomorrow. We asked for the nearest places to eat and when we were told that there was a Chilis only five blocks up the highway we were decided. After a quick change we there eating for $20 but I forgot the two for one beer offer and drank a bottled Corona.
We hit our beds that night well contented.

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 14

2011-12-06T06:33:00.001-08:00

After breakfast we set off again, after a 36+ hour break from driving Julia was back at the wheel. Our first stop was at Sheila’s house to say goodbye.
The SatNav guided us well and while we were there Sheila phoned her friend, Bobby, an Atlanta taxi driver, so that he would be ready to assist us when we finished in Atlanta having returned our rental car. We were so amused to overhear the conversation, when she told him to look after her English relatives. When she told him our hotel in Atlanta, he must have expressed some concern because she replied, “These relatives are white but they’ll be cool with the location.” We were flattered by her description and confidence in us.
We were all hoping that she would find herself able to join us in Atlanta but she had contractors to deal with in New Orleans so, it had to be doubtful, having Bobby’s number was a good back-up.
We got on our way again, knowing we had 310 miles to Montgomery, our Alabama stop, at the Comfort Inn and Suites. On the way we would go through Mobile and take a time-out to visit the USS Alabama, a WW2 battleship.
The battleship resides on a memorial park next to the ocean which also features a variety of aircraft, tanks, military vehicles and two submarines. Although we spent considerable time there we still did not see everything.
The facts I recall, and have researched later, about the USS Alabama are interesting, the major message is that the Alabama was built when clearer sighted naval experts had realised that the battleship as a concept was finished, the queen of the seas was now the aircraft carrier.
The Alabama was built, costing $80 million, in a record time of 30 months using 24 hour shifts to complete her; she was commissioned in 1943 and fought until the end of the war in 1945 a similar length of time as it took to build her. She is the fifth newest battleship ever built, and no more battleships will ever be built. She was mothballed in 1947 and would have been scrapped in 1963 but was saved by public appeal.
She was called the Lucky A because, during World War II, she lost no American lives aboard her due to enemy fire – the crew lost only 5 men in combat situations during that time, none to enemy fire. Average age of the 2,500-man crew was only 21 years old – it was a young man’s war.
The battle ship was basically a platform to deliver massive fire-power against other big ships or coastal targets, with a secondary armament to defend itself from smaller ships and aircraft.
The USS Alabama had nine 16 inch guns housed in three turrets with three guns each, two turrets forward and one aft. Each 16 inch Big Gun could shoot up to 21 miles accurately. Each time the big guns fired, the shell weighed up to 2,700 pounds, the equivalent of shooting a small automobile, and it took 540 pounds of black gunpowder to shoot it, each time, and the big guns could shoot at least once every 30 seconds. So when the big guns were firing, more than 58,000 pounds or 29 TONS left the battleship each minute!
It took 140 men to man each of the big gun turrets, which were 5 levels deep on the ship. The big gun turrets on the battleship could turn up to 270 degrees, but were not attached to the ship in any way, so if the ship turned over, the turrets would fall out.
There was a colour-coded self-guided tour round the battleship which would easily take two hours to complete.
On the site there is a civil war submarine which was closed up but just walking round it you got the message of how vulnerable the men crammed into it would be, its attack plan was to sneak up to surface ships and fix a mine to them before sneaking off again hopefully before the mine, known at this time as a torpedo, exploded.
There is also USS Drum a WW2 submarine, for which there was another self-guided tour but this time no colours were required, the tour goes, climb down the ladder, walk through the boat, bending to get through doors, squeezing through small gaps, climb up the ladder at the other end! I defy anyone to make this tour last over 15 minutes.
While the crew of the battleship was normally 2,500, bigger than most towns in Alabama, the crew of the submarine was only 72, 7 Officers and 65 enlisted. I cannot grasp how 72 men lived and fought under such cramped conditions.
Interestingly Battleship Alabama won 9 Battle Stars, mainly by shooting down enemy aircraft and shelling islands held by the Japanese while Submarine Drum won 12 Battle Stars by sinking enemy shipping, this as much as anything is a pointer to how naval power was to develop. Head to head the Drum would likely sink the Alabama by a stealthy torpedo attack while the battleship would be unaware of its presence until too late, so the civil war submariners were onto something.
We went round the aircraft display and enjoyed the experience, our favourite aircraft were a P-51D Mustang, inside the display, a B-25J Mitchell parked close to the Alabama, and the Douglas Dakota which must have the world record for longevity as a model and for number of miles flown in all areas.
We needed to move on before we could check out the tanks and armored vehicles, we also missed the memorials.
Vietnam veterans designed, financed, and built the Alabama Vietnam Veterans Memorial in the Park. The black granite walls honor the 175 Mobile and Baldwin County deceased, as well as the 1,213 Alabama Vietnam veterans who made the ultimate sacrifice. The new equally impressive Alabama Korean War Veterans Memorial was dedicated on June 25, 2002, and stands next to the Vietnam Memorial, with 752 Alabamians remembered on the gray granite.
We arrived at the Comfort Inn & Suites on the edge of Montgomery to find it filling up rapidly with fans returning from the Auburn University Football match v Ole Miss, a really big game. Overnight the hotel was full and breakfast was the most crowded we encountered anywhere on our tour.
We ventured out to find dinner but our instructions let us down and we ended up close to the hotel, eating at Cracker Barrel – upside very economic and nicely home cooked – downside the staff were far to keen on getting you in and out in the minimum time possible.

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 13

2011-12-05T12:56:00.000-08:00

Sheila picked us up after breakfast and we set off again for the day. We started by riding the ferry over the Mississippi as we could not fit a proper boat trip into our busy schedule. As we crossed the river we saw two traditional style riverboats the Creole Queen and the Natchez. Although it was a short trip it served its purpose and ticked a box.
We returned into the city using the bridge and Sheila set course for the worst affected areas of New Orleans when Katrina struck. Over our two days, from Sheila and others we heard two phrases repeated often joined together, they were “after Katrina” and “they never came back”. The level of destruction is hard to imagine and even now, over six years later, things are still shocking on lots of levels. When driving round the low-lying poor areas which bore the brunt of the disaster some things were obvious, wrecked houses, skeletal filling stations but less obvious to us Sheila explained that for every grassed area there were houses that had gone completely. In any given street there were houses which were occupied and those which were deserted, sometimes the deserted ones were in at least as good shape as those which were being lived in, and there were gaps.
The photo I never took is still in my mind, a pair of tennis courts with no netting around them and no net, surrounded by grass with concrete piles standing two or three feet high like headstones for the houses they had once supported.
The same applied to Sheila’s street, she had suffered massive water damage to her home and is still completing the recovery, she had to organise the repairs while still based in Atlanta and it is little wonder that many people couldn’t manage or even face this task, they never came back.
As people talk about Katrina there is some bitterness about big business and government help. Insurance companies coughed up grudgingly and when owners received government compensation it was inadequate and the insurance companies clawed back what they had paid out. There is little incentive for paying home insurance based on this experience. In the areas hardest hit the infrastructure has only recovered in part, schools are operating without being fully repaired, hospitals have remained closed after Katrina, and the shops which operated in the area and made it a community never came back.
There was a limited boom after Katrina, when the money started coming through, there sprang up building suppliers, fast food outlets and cheap motels, all to service the returning people whose houses were not fit to live in.
For those unable to flee the city after New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin ordered the first-ever mandatory evacuation of the city, calling Katrina "a storm that most of us have long feared", the city government established several "refuges of last resort", including the massive Louisiana Superdome, which sheltered approximately 26,000 people and provided them with food and water for several days as the storm came ashore. Others were less fortunate and simply ended up on any high structure above the flooding; when we mentioned TV coverage of people trapped on an overpass Sheila shockingly told us that she had a cousin who died there.
In the aftermath of the disaster there were many stories which portrayed the population left in New Orleans in a poor light, many of these have been discredited but the resentment remains.
From Sheila’s side of New Orleans we set off for our Swamp tour, Sheila has a sophisticated phone set-up in her car and from it she had spoken to various friends who had delighted in telling us that a swamp boat had capsized and those tourists who didn’t drown were eaten by alligators. We were still intent on taking the risk. Julia had looked up from the internet Dr Wagner’s Honey Island Swamp Tours and Sheila had taken it from there, sorting out all we had to do, and the arrangements.
It was about half an hour out of the suburbs of the city and we were well off the beaten track by the time we reached the venue. We checked in and were set to go when called by the resident Drill Sergeant. The trips coming back were school children and they seemed undamaged. They were wearing life jackets but when we set off to our boat none were offered or issued to us. Each boat takes about 24 passengers sitting either along the side or on a central bench. I’m sure the driver/guides are all equally well trained but there is still the luck of the draw, our guide was, I’m confident, the best. As Brian Clough once said “I may not be the best but I’m in the top one”. He found us the wildlife we sought, he drove the boat with flair, he amused us with his anecdotes and he was a fund of general knowledge.
The early part of the tour takes you into the swamp, and our first piece of information was that a swamp is a flooded forest. The trees are adapted to their footing with either roots which protrude from the water to let the tree breathe or very thick bases to their trunk. Both of these features make for great photos and the high water mark on the trees looks as clear as if it is painted on.
We docked by bumping the flat bottom of the boat onto a tree root and our guide answered questions, having given us a warning that he didn’t do politically correct.
Q. Is there such a thing as Big Foot in the swamp?
A. No, we would have a dead one by now if there was, a young one killed on the highway, some idiot hunter would have shot one thinking it was a deer, the way I see it no dead ones means no live ones!
Q. Do you eat Alligator?
A. No I’m a local, why would I eat something expensive and tough with a not great taste?
Q. But people do eat them don’t they?
A. Only tourists and idiots!
Q. Has anyone ever been killed by an alligator in Louisiana?
A. Not since there have been records, perhaps some Native American kid wandered too close to the water and made a new addition to their menu but never since. A few arms and legs have gone missing though so keep your limbs inside the boat.
We set off again, we saw several Heron and Egrets, and then pulled in to see a snake basking in the weak sunshine. Julia is scared of snakes, not like anyone would be scared of a rattle snake in their sleeping bag but scared of any size, any type, anywhere so she was grateful that he didn’t take the boat too close. Later he told us all the ultimate snake story but that comes later.
Across our path he spotted a female alligator swimming at right angles to us some distance ahead.
Q. How did you know it was a female?
A. Lady, this ain’t my first day on the job, this ain’t my first dance. Too small to be male, if it was that size and male it would be a meal for a full-grown male.
He then continued to tell us that we were late in the day and later in the season so we would be very lucky to see a big male at all as they would be hibernating in the mud by now. One male alligator controls over a mile of river and fights to the death any other male that encroaches into their territory.
One of the earlier tours had seen a big male so he headed to where it had been, bracing us for disappointment. By memory the biggest alligators are up to 21 feet long. Suddenly he spotted the big one that had been reported earlier and he got us up close without disturbing it. It was in the shallows and was at least 15 feet long, we watched and photographed it before leaving it alone to head out into the river, it decided that its hibernation spot was calling and it followed us. We stopped and it swam past us, he reckoned that it was heading to a nice muddy area to bury itself and hibernate.
Q. Could you run away from a big male on land?
A. Forget it, they are scary fast, about 35 mph in a burst, and forget any zig-zag crap, they can change direction faster than you.
I thought we were returning to the starting point, which would have made the tour short but interesting, we crept past the floating fishing camps, taking heed of the “Slow watch your Wake” notices, then we continued past the jetty and into the river.
As soon as we were in the wider stream our guide announced, “Lets get some air” and opened the throttle, we flew along and as he turned the boat leant over like a motorbike.
Along the river banks there were nice houses and fishing camps, mainly reached by boat. Apparently new arrivals in the area would let their domestic dog out in the evening and some didn’t return having met up with a local alligator and become dinner.
Amongst the well-maintained buildings were some still wrecked by Katrina, another echo of they never came back, because if your real home was smashed and you now lived in Houston or Atlanta you probably never even checked out your fishing camp. It was also fun to notice that the trees grew real close to the water and in some places the houses had a solid tree growing up through their decking and out through their front porch roof. We progressed quite some way up the river passing under the highway we would need to use tomorrow before we turned back and again “got some air”.
Although we were going pretty fast he pulled the boat in towards the bank where there was usually a female alligator, he called it and when it approached he fed it a hotdog sausage which he had speared on a twig.
We returned towards base and he told the snake story, apparently he had collected a troop of girl scouts for his first run and without knowing a large snake, which had slept the night under the engine cover. When he “got some air” the snake was disturbed and slithered up onto the central aisle of the boat. The Girl Scouts and their leader were all looking outward while he watched several feet of snake appear, as soon as it was all out and on the flat surface, heading towards the front of the boat, he grabbed its tail and flung it over the side, the female scout leader caught sight of it flying past her head and never spoke again on the tour!
We returned to the base and clearly they were packing up for the night and putting the boats away, the drill sergeant was coordinating this, while we tipped our guide who has three daughters attending LSU, I should have asked him to send our best wishes via them to my tennis teammate, Chris Simpson, who is there and his being English means that the chances are they would know him.
Sheila was slightly out of her comfort zone on the boat tour and it was also the longest we went in public without someone recognizing her.
Back in the car however she was in command again, we drove to a Casino and ate the buffet before heading back into town. I struggled with the crabs as the shells refused to slide off the meat as easily as they should. While we walked through the gaming area I was politely reminded that there was no photography and my lens-cap was off my camera as it hung round my neck, I assured the guy that I was not taking any pictures and closed down the camera.
We arrived back on Bourbon Street, Sheila repeated her parking miracle and we walked down the centre of the road sightseeing. It was a much colder night and less inviting. We settled into a bar and watched a group fronted by a girl wearing a kimono and shoulder length black straight hair. She had a powerful voice and we enjoyed the music. After a few songs she pulled off her wig to reveal her shaven head, her explanation that she was too Blankety Blank Hot announced that the money spent on her Swiss finishing school was indeed wasted. It was also brilliant for people watching; there were four incidents/sights which I will share.
1) The doorman was the biggest guy I have ever seen in the flesh, bear in mind I hang out with basketball players and am usually immune to height, he was at least 7 feet tall, he sat on a tall bar stool with his feet flat on the floor.
2) The waitress was wearing a sweatshirt and a hood/mask of a skeleton, making for great pictures as she took orders.
3) Three 30+ ladies were dancing drunkenly in the small area in front of the band, when one of them knocked a beer off one of the front tables she just replaced the now empty bottle on the table and neither wiped up the mess nor confessed to its owner.
4) The group in front of us consisted of a girl, with several friends, she signed up to have her photo taken by a guy with a camera and printer, then to be sketched by a passing artist, only to tell both she had no money! Then by borrowing from her friends and sweet-talking the trader she ended up with both pictures!
We walked back to the car and from there were dropped off back at the hotel, we again went straight to bed having had one of the best of days.

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 12

2011-12-01T08:26:00.000-08:00

It surprised me how much we retraced our steps as we went from Lafayette towards New Orleans, much of the route was on highways built above water making for really great views and distinctly less great photos.
As we passed Baton Rouge we called ahead to Sheila our friend and guide for our visit to New Orleans; she agreed to meet us at our hotel, The Best Western French Quarter Landmark Hotel. As a contrast Joe Montgomery remembered that we were coming to visit with him when he received our text on the day we arrived, Sheila had been planning our visit and helping plan our tour since we had met in London two months previously, she had warned us to be well rested before New Orleans as she intended to fit as much as possible into her two days.
We arrived and checked into the hotel and as its title implies we were on the edge of the lively French quarter. Ominously the receptionist told us that the area behind the hotel was quite safe during the day but after dark we were to only use one of two streets to return to the hotel as they had bars on every corner and thus there would be people about. When we told her we had a local friend to look after us she looked quite relieved. The hotel was one of the nicer ones we experienced but we were to see very little of it.
On this day it was hot and there were people sunbathing and swimming in the enclosed courtyard, we had a seat in the same area and very shortly Sheila appeared. We showed her our room as she wanted to know if she could recommend the hotel in future, it passed that inspection. Sheila pointed out that the courtyard is a common feature of older New Orleans homes as it was where the slave quarters were located.
We set off on our tour. We rode in Sheila’s new car, a Hyundai, and from the start I was impressed by its gadgets, it had a rear facing camera to assist in reversing but the most amusing feature was on the rear view mirror there was a small readout of the direction the car was traveling. As I was in the back seat I could see this while Julia in the passenger position couldn’t – whenever Julia’s famous sense of direction was challenged she was outraged to find I knew better our position, on the second day I had to tell her my secret advantage.
The first part of our tour was through the French Quarter, driving down Bourbon Street while it still slept, Sheila promised that we would return and see it differently. We then covered the rest of the city taking in the best residential areas and all seven universities?
Sheila so clearly loves her city and her enthusiasm is catching. On this first day we saw little evidence of the damage wrought by hurricane Katrina but that was on the agenda for the following day. Sheila herself evacuated from New Orleans to Atlanta where she still owns an apartment which is rented out, she took her mother to Atlanta and sadly she passed away while there.
Having seen a lot of the city we headed out to do a plantation tour. We drove some miles out of the city to Plantation Parade on the Great River Road – there are four plantations on this tour and we started at the San Francisco Plantation.
To quote - Today the San Francisco Plantation remains a major attraction in Louisiana being visited annually by over 100,000 people. Although the house is antebellum in a chronological sense, it is certainly not typical of the period. Its style and coloration are totally distinctive, and its memories are now locked in time just prior to the War Between the States, when the house was at the height of its splendor.
As we arrived we noted that we had missed the last tour of the house at 4.30 and it would have cost $15 each, we walked in the grounds and I took some photos of the house which should have cost us $10 but nobody asked for that. I have a great picture of Sheila approaching the house to be met by a blonde Southern Belle in period costume; it could make a really challenging caption competition.
We next drove on to the Laura Plantation, here the same provisions applied but the staff were happy to turn a blind eye to me taking some photos in the garden. The Laura house was less ostentatious than the San Francisco being a more modern design and much less ornate.
We moved on to the Oak Alley Plantation, so named for its avenue of oak trees leading up to the front of the mansion. Here we were in limbo, between the gift shop closing and the plantation closing altogether, we wandered freely in the grounds and again I took some memorable photos.
All four plantations were sugar producers and this was evidenced by the huge metal bowls which featured everywhere as decorative items. In the grounds of Oak Alley there was a notice listing the slave inventory of the plantation and on looking up these plantations I found such inventories for every one. The listings include such items as:
Marie, Creole Mulatress, 35, cook, $900
Marseille, Creole Negro, 70, $25
Mary Sally, American Negress, 36, and her child Adam, 2, $900
Mathilde, Creole Negress, 10, $600
Mengo, American Negro, 30, one-eyed, $1,200
Michel, Creole Negro, 12, $600
Ned, American Negro, 35, $1,200
I am reminded that while watching the US Civil War documentary it was mentioned that slavery was the highest value industry in the country and it exceeded all the other industries put together but somehow reading this list the inhumanity of it strikes home. Also by consulting the San Francisco inventories for 1843 and 1856 only 13 years apart the value of an average slave has risen by over 100%; so as war approached the assets of the South were increasing in value and they could see no reasonable way to manage without their slaves.
We headed back into the city and stopped at Deanies Restaurant. We had Gumbo to start and split an order of fried sea food, a Half Seafood Platter, I enjoyed the soft shelled crab but it is hard to get your head round the idea that it is simply dropped into the deep-fryer and you eat the lot.
From the restaurant we headed back to the French Quarter, Sheila’s comment about Bourbon Street coming alive in the evening was so true, she cruised the area and a guy was just getting his car out of a small parking space, as he did so Julia asked if Sheila could fit in, she replied, “If he can get out I can get in!” and she did.
Our time on Bourbon Street was enjoyable and we felt safe in Sheila’s care, it always helps to be with a veteran. Before we entered our first bar I demonstrated my age, glancing at an attractive young lady I thought that brightly coloured T-shirt is very tight, only to realise that her bare chest was painted!
In the first bar we started to realise that Sheila knew nearly everyone, her friend was on drums and she had already been greeted by every doorman we passed. I was approached by a young lady carrying a rack of test tubes full of brightly coloured liquid, she inserted the base of a tube in her mouth and indicated that she wanted to transfer the liquid into my mouth, I could have refused but a steely glare from Sheila sent her on her way without a word.
We looked into several other bars and nobody suggested we should pay a cover charge even if others were. It was really just window shopping until we settled in to Irvin Mayfield's Jazz Playhouse in a luxurious venue on the lobby level of the Royal Sonesta Hotel New Orleans. The live band was lead by a black trumpeter who knew his stuff but was on an ego-trip to end ego-trips. He sat out several pieces but he was quite capable of elbowing the drummer off his seat and taking over. He was a good vocalist but the base player and the saxophonist seemed, to me, to carry the band. We had a couple rounds of drinks and enjoyed the atmosphere. An older guy who knew Sheila got up and did a couple of songs, it was his seventieth birthday, and he still had it. The ex-quarterback of the New Orleans Saints got up and sang, trying to research this guy my best guess is he was Billy Joe Tolliver but I am far from convinced.
Also in the audience was a guy called Steamboat Willie, he was clearly a well respected figure and several attempts were made to get him on stage but he was able to refuse gracefully. At the other end of the spectrum there was a girl of about twenty-three who gave an unasked solo on her harmonica while the band was resting offstage, she then made a play for the lead singer and eventually settled for the band’s manager.
Meanwhile the band was being plied with drink by the “Red Bull” man and they were showing some effects by the time we were thinking of leaving.
As the resident Scrooge, Killjoy, homebody, you get the picture, I was resolved not to try to end the evening while the ladies were enjoying it, imagine my surprise when Julia asked Sheila if we could go back to the hotel at about 12.30.
We offered to walk back but Sheila knew better than taking her eyes off us, Babes in the Wood, so she drove us back to the hotel, even then she was keen to check if we needed some supper on the way but sleep was all we craved!

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 11

2011-11-30T11:21:00.000-08:00

We travelled on to Lafayette after the buffet breakfast. We arrived at the hotel, La Quinta North, which proved to be the noisiest hotel on our tour but in fairness we had no problem sleeping.
Having checked in we sent a text to Joe Montgomery, the US import in the year after Joe Barber, and he called back agreeing to meet up with us that evening.
During the afternoon we took a ride to the Acadian Centre where we learnt about the development of the Cajun population of the area. There were several houses of various periods transplanted into a small town and all of it right next to a creek which made for some excellent photos.
It was an interesting afternoon with several enthusiasts acting out roles in the houses:
There was a fiddler - creepy guy but our phone went and we were able to flee to take the call – thanks Joe.
There was a gardener – very interesting many of the local plants and vegetables originated in Spain.
There was a wood carver – no conversation and he had barely started on his next project so basically a man with a knife and a lump of wood.
Then there was a black lady doing basketwork – she was so amusing, she told us she came from a large family and decided early that she wasn’t having many kids, as she put it “I had two and that was enough but then another sneaked home and we quit at three!”
Julia and I tried to pull ourselves across the creek on the raft bridge; you are supposed to walk yourself along a fixed rope. We were exhausted when we were only six feet from the dock so we backed up and landed ourselves back where we started.
When we got back to the hotel we brewed up and slowly got organised for the evening. We were expecting to drive as Joe said his truck had too much stuff in it so we waited in front of the hotel with our car. Actually Joe and his wife, Marquita, turned up in her truck and she drove us to the restaurant. We ate at Copelands Restaurant and we enjoyed a really nice evening. Although Joe Barber seemed exactly the same as I remembered him Joe Montgomery had changed, he was much less a basketballer and much more a business man. They are a lovely couple and we found conversation easy. We had a photo-call outside the restaurant and they dropped us back at the hotel having made us promise to stay with them next time we were in the South.

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 10

2011-11-30T10:44:00.000-08:00

After breakfast we set off hoping that Natchez would redeem itself, and, in due course, it did. We set off back along the Natchez Trace Parkway for a very short distance before turning off into Melrose house, as Natchez dodged most of the Civil war there remain several notable antebellum houses which my learned partner tells me means pre-civil war. Melrose is in many ways the most notable of them; it was built by a successful lawyer John T McMurran.
During the 1830s, Mr. McMurran’s law practice prospered. He and his wife, Mary Louisa, who came from a much wealthier family than her husband, began construction on their estate, Melrose, in 1841. The family moved into the magnificent Greek-revival style home early in 1849. By the mid-1850s, John owned or held interest in five plantations, which included over 9,600 acres of land and 325 slaves.
Melrose is a mansion that is said to reflect "perfection" in its Greek Revival design. The 80-acre estate is now part of Natchez National Historical Park and is open to the public by guided tours, which we took advantage of on this occasion. The house is furnished for the period just before the Civil War. Melrose was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1974 despite this date we were told that the house was operating as an upscale bed & breakfast until 1990 and some of the furnishings had never left the house in all that time.
We were shown round the house by an enthusiastic female ranger and we noted the Punka, a fan like device to keep flies off the food, positioned over the dinner table. The downstairs floor coverings were oil cloth which looked like carpet but were painted by hand and were thus easier to clean than carpet. Ironically they are covered by identical carpet to preserve them from our modern shoes, areas are left uncarpeted to allow us to view but never touch the oil cloth and we are expected to accept that the floor is entirely covered but you have to wonder.
Outside of the house there are several outbuildings including the two storied kitchen and dairy buildings, octagonal cistern houses, a smoke house, a privy, slave quarters, a barn and a carriage house. In the hierarchy of slavery the House slaves lived in the upper floor of the kitchen and dairy while the Field slaves had a series of sheds close to the stables. These Field slaves tended the grounds of the estate and it was generally accepted that their lot was significantly harder than the House slaves but nothing like as tough as slaves on the plantations. If a slave misbehaved they could be demoted down the pecking order but that was the sort of reaction you might expect from the most benign of owners, flogging, or branding were also available as a disciplinary option.
In the slave quarters there is a display of various documents relating to slavery, one story relates to the abuse both sexual and physical of a young female slave by a neighbour, with all the good intentions of Mary Lousia and like minded members of the community the best solution they could engineer was to buy the unfortunate girl when her owner had tired of her.
I took a photo of an entry in Mary L’s diary which I will type out in its entirety as it illustrates the best and worst of the paternal Southern view of slavery. She writes:
“We were preparing for the wedding of two of our young servants – two we have reared and trained in the family – the children of old and favourite servants. They were married last Thursday, in our presence, and behaved extremely well with perfect dignity and propriety. They then retired and passed the evening with some invited friends, and had a fine supper, as happy and merry a company as one would wish to see. Would Mrs. Stowe could have viewed the scene, perhaps it might have changed some of her erroneous opinions.”
The above needs no additional comment from me. Along, with the easy observation that the stable block was better appointed than the slave quarters, this brought home the reality of slavery.
As we left Melrose we observed our first Spanish Moss hanging from the trees which is another abiding image of the holiday.
As we returned to the NTP we spotted a sign for Duncan Park Tennis Center and followed its directions. Duncan Park is large and the tennis area is well sited and greets you as you enter the park. There are eight floodlit courts some viewing areas and a pro shop. In the pro shop, not unexpectedly, I met the pro, Henry Hawk Harris. Since we are of a similar vintage we were soon chatting and had I been there longer we would have played. He told me that since many of his players come across the state line from Arkansas and there is a new tennis centre opening there the Natchez response is to build him another 12 courts when previously they had balked at adding four more. I now have an open invitation to play there but I cannot imagine taking him up on it.
We headed on to Natchez and found the self-guided walking tour, the Natchez Trail, which was interesting. We knew from Melrose House that there was another National Historic Home that of William Johnson.
Known as the “barber” of Natchez, William Johnson began his life as a slave. His freedom at age eleven followed that of his mother Amy and his sister Adelia. After working as an apprentice to his brother –in-law James Miller, Johnson bought the barber shop in 1830 for three hundred dollars and taught the trade to free black boys. It was shortly after he established a barber shop in downtown Natchez that he began to keep a diary. The diary was a mainstay in Johnson’s life until his death in 1851.
In 1851 a boundary dispute with his neighbor Baylor Winn found the two men in court. Although, the judge ruled in Johnson’s favor, Winn was not satisfied. Winn, also a free black ambushed Johnson returning from his farm and shot him. Johnson lived long enough to name Winn as the guilty party. Through strange circumstances, Winn was never convicted of the killing. Winn and his defense argued that he was actually white and not a free person of color because of his Indian ancestry in Virginia. Therefore, the “mulatto” boy who accompanied Johnson on that fateful day could not testify against Winn. Mississippi law allowed for blacks to testify against whites in civil cases, but not in criminal cases. Two hung juries could not decide if he was white or black, so Johnson’s Killer walked free.
Although a black man, at the time of his death, Johnson’s owned sixteen slaves. He writes openly in his diary about his slaves and his trial and tribulations of being a slave owner. William Johnson’s diary encapsulates sixteen years of his life. From 1835-1851, Johnson filled fourteen leather bound volumes with diary entries. Today, his diary is an important resource for the study of free blacks, African –American History and American History in general. It is also an important part of his legacy and what sets William Johnson apart from other free blacks during the time period.
Johnson’s house on State Street in downtown Natchez continued to be owned by the family until they sold it to the Ellicott Hill Preservation Society in 1976. The house was then donated to the city who in turn donated to the National Park Service in 1990. After an extensive restoration process, the National Park Service opened the house as a museum detailing William Johnson’s life in 2005.
Our reading of the information in the house yielded another observation; it seemed that most of the freed slaves mentioned were the products of unions between the owner and a female slave, thus creating either embarrassment for the master or some feeling of responsibility for their offspring, either which may have lead them to get their embarrassment/responsibility out of the picture by setting them up away from the situation.
We finished our tour at the Pig Out Inn where I had a “pulled pork” sandwich while Julia had an ice-cream. Later I again refused the supper at the hotel so while Julia had a portion of it I ate the remainder of the previous day’s pizza.
After that we drove back into Natchez and I took far too many shots of the sun going down behind the bridge over the Mississippi – some of which turned out ok. We then stopped off at the tennis club as Hawk had told us that there was a veterans’ session on, there was play but the standard was nothing special.

Deep South US Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 9

2011-11-29T05:30:00.000-08:00

Jackson was one of our shortest stops after breakfast we headed on for Natchez knowing that we intended to break our journey at Vicksburg.
The basics of Vicksburg are:
In May and June of 1863, Maj. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant’s armies converged on Vicksburg, investing the city and entrapping a Confederate army under Lt. Gen. John Pemberton. On July 4, Vicksburg surrendered after prolonged siege operations. This was the culmination of one of the most brilliant military campaigns of the war. With the loss of Pemberton’s army and this vital stronghold on the Mississippi, the Confederacy was effectively split in half. Grant's successes in the West boosted his reputation, leading ultimately to his appointment as General-in-Chief of the Union armies.
Dates - May 18 - July 4, 1863
Union Commander - Ulysses S. Grant
Confederate Commander - John C. Pemberton
Forces Engaged - 77,000 Union v 33,000 Confederate
Estimated Casualties - 10,142 Union v 9,091 Confederate
Result - Union Victory
We arrived at the Vicksburg National Military Park by lunch time. By the time we got to Natchez we had traveled the other two sides of a rectangle than we would have if we had taken the route given by our computer. It must have been a similar distance overall but perhaps on slower roads.
The Mississippi River was important in the Civil War because whoever controlled the river controlled the nation, and Vicksburg built atop a 300-foot-high bluff overlooking a bend in the river, occupied perhaps the most strategic location. President Abraham Lincoln called Vicksburg "the key" and believed that "the war can never be brought to a close until that key is in our pocket."
The defenders were very well dug in and had the advantage of the higher ground. The strength of the defense meant that Grant settled in for a siege during which the town of Vicksburg suffered from the regular shelling and starvation as supplies were cut off from them. The rebels capitulated on July the 4th and this has meant that the date, Independence Day, was never celebrated in the area until 1945.
We watched a video presentation in the visitors’ centre which made clear how the events had progressed and from there we drove round the marked route of the battlefield tour with a better idea of what we were seeing.
The battlefield tour is impressive, at all the numbered stops we found the markers that we had grown accustomed to, field artillery to indicate the positions of batteries and many monuments to troops from both sides. Notable amongst the monuments is one to African American troops, mainly freed slaves, fighting on the Union side. The level of prejudice against blacks even amongst the Northern population was such that initially black troops were only given supporting duties away from the front line. At Vicksburg they struck a blow for their respect when such a group were attacked by greater numbers of a Confederate raiding party and drove them off using their discharged rifles as clubs. On occasions where Northern troops in the front line were overrun by Southern forces the white soldiers were captured and the black troops were killed.
About halfway round the tour we had a great view of the Mississippi from the defenders position atop the cliffs and here we saw a unique exhibit. The Ironclad Gunboat Cairo, which was sunk by a mine, though confusingly at the time such mines were called torpedoes, in December 1862, has been raised from the riverbed where the mud and silt had preserved it remarkably.
By studying contemporary documents and maps, Edwin C. Bearss, Historian at Vicksburg National Military Park, was able to plot the approximate site of the wreck. With the help of a pocket compass and iron bar probes, Bearss and two companions, Don Jacks and Warren Grabau, set out to discover the grave of the Cairo in 1956. The three searchers were reasonably convinced they had found the Cairo, but three years lapsed before divers brought up armored port covers to positively confirm the find. A heavy accumulation of silt, swift current, and the ever-muddy river deterred the divers as they explored the gunboat. Local enthusiasm and interest began to grow in 1960 with the recovery of the pilothouse, an 8-inch smoothbore cannon, its white oak carriage and other artifacts well preserved by the Yazoo mud. With financial support from the State of Mississippi, the Warren County Board of Supervisors and funds raised locally, efforts to salvage the gunboat began in earnest.
Hopes of lifting the ironclad and her cargo of artifacts intact were crushed in October of 1964 when the three inch cables being used to lift the Cairo cut deeply into its wooden hull. It then became a question of saving as much of the vessel as possible. A decision was made to cut the Cairo into three sections. By the end of December the battered remains were put on barges and towed to Vicksburg. In the summer of 1965 the barges carrying the Cairo were towed to Ingalls Shipyard on the Gulf Coast in Pascagula, Mississippi. There the armor was removed, cleaned and stored. The two engines were taken apart, cleaned and reassembled. Sections of the hull were braced internally and a sprinkler system was operated continually to keep the white oak structural timbers from warping and checking.
In 1972, the U.S. Congress enacted legislation authorizing the National Park Service to accept title to the Cairo and restore the gunboat for display in Vicksburg National Military Park. Delays in funding the project halted progress until June of 1977, when the vessel was transported to the park and partially reconstructed on a concrete foundation near the Vicksburg National Cemetery. The recovery of artifacts from the Cairo revealed a treasure trove of weapons, munitions, naval stores and personal gear of the sailors who served on board. The gunboat and its artifacts can now be seen along the tour road at the U.S.S. Cairo Museum.
Those reconstructing the ship have struck an elegant balance between rebuilding it and leaving it a skeleton, they have only added new structure where it is vital to convey the design and purpose of the ship.
It must have been 3.00pm when we left the VNMP and continued on to Natchez. The final part of the trip being on the Natchez Trace Parkway, which is a 444-mile drive through exceptional scenery and 10000 years of North American history. We travelled much less than 400 miles on it but it was pleasant to drive at 50mph with few cars in sight and no pressure on our time. As we drove we noticed a round object by the edge of the road, slowing down we saw it was an armadillo about the size of a softball, it was walking briskly alongside the road and as we progressed we saw quite a few more.
We successfully checked into the Bays Inn of Natchez which along with a free buffet breakfast it advertised a free dinner from 5.30pm. Our timing was great we had time to settle into our room and wander back to the foyer to check out dinner. Unfortunately for me the one pot, first come, first served, meal was Chili Con Carne which I dislike so Julia had a small portion and I ate some cornbread. On these holidays we rarely bother with lunch often waiting until we reach that day’s hotel to have a mug of tea and some cookies before we go out to eat properly in the evening.
This night we drove into Natchez but to all intents and purposes, apart from the casino, it was shut. We navigated back to the hotel and ate at Pizza hut across the road from the motel. It was noisy and not great but any port in a storm.
One of our friends had recommended editing a day from Natchez and, had we done so, we would have set off in the morning with no good feelings about the place.

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 8

2011-11-28T13:47:00.000-08:00

Day 8
Again we refused the hotel breakfast and set off to find Sun Studios before traveling on to Jackson. Having parked at our objective quite close to the Lorraine Motel we found that the studio tours and the building opened at 10.00am. We walked up the street less than a block to find a bar open which would serve us with breakfast. We repeated our order from the previous day but this time we had a considerable wait for our food to come. Initially in a window seat we moved to sit at the bar to get out of the draught.
The owner was coming and going between the bar and the backroom and kept apologizing for the delay – we got the distinct impression the whole place was better suited to the evening! While we chatted to the manager at the bar he asked what we had seen so far and we mentioned Jack Daniels and noted that he had a dispenser of Jack & Honey opposite where we were sitting. I asked what that entailed; he said exactly what it sounds like and drew us off a tot to try, just past 10.00 in the morning. It was sweet and smooth but pretty strong. The food when it came was good and we returned to Sun studios. Julia’s research had led her to the belief that the tour was free but we had to pay over $12 and sign up for the 11.30am tour.
As we waited for our tour we chatted with a lady whose partner, a scot, was on the 10.30 tour, she had decided against it as she had done the tour before and had worked there as a studio musician.
From our tour guide, Phoenix, a musician trying to break into the business, we learnt that Sun Studio is a recording studio opened by rock pioneer Sam Phillips in Memphis, Tennessee, on January 3, 1950. It was originally called Memphis Recording Service, sharing the same building with the Sun Records label business. Reputedly the first rock-and-roll single, Jackie Brenston and his Delta Cats' "Rocket 88" was recorded there in 1951 with song composer Ike Turner on keyboards, leading the studio to claim status as the birthplace of rock & roll. Blues and R&B artists like Howlin' Wolf, Junior Parker, Little Milton, B.B. King, James Cotton, Rufus Thomas, and Rosco Gordon recorded there in the early 1950s.
Rock-and-roll, country music, and rockabilly artists, including Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Roy Orbison, Charlie Feathers, Ray Harris, Warren Smith, Charlie Rich, and Jerry Lee Lewis, recorded there throughout the mid to late 1950s until the studio outgrew its Union Avenue location. Sam Phillips opened the larger Sam C. Phillips Recording Studio, better known as Phillips Recording, in 1959 to take the place of the older facility.
In 1969, Sam Phillips sold the label to Shelby Singleton, and there was no recording-related or label-related activity again in the building until the September 1985 Class of '55 recording sessions with Carl Perkins, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Johnny Cash.
In 1987, the original building housing the Sun Records label and Memphis Recording Service was reopened by Gary Hardy as "Sun Studio," a recording label and tourist attraction that has attracted many notable artists, such as U2, Def Leppard, and Ringo Starr.
Phoenix played us samples of the music that grew up there and he made the point that Elvis had to work very hard to convince Phillips that he had talent; the owners dream was to promote the rougher voice of Howlin’ Wolf.
When we had finished upstairs we took the place of the previous tour downstairs in the recording studio part of the building. The fact that it is still the iconic site that it is comes about by pure luck; by the mid 1960s, Phillips had lost interest in recording and had instead branched out into radio. He opened several radio stations, beginning in the late 1950s, and Sun lost its reputation as an innovative recording studio. In 1968, Sun released its last record. In 1969, Mercury Records label producer Shelby Singleton purchased the Sun label from Phillips. Singleton moved the firm to Nashville, and sold the building to a plumbing company, who eventually sold it to an auto parts store, despite all of this the soundproofing was never removed from the walls and ceiling so it was a simple process to restore the studio fittings in 1987. The amusing thing is that the tours and gift shop are so popular the recordings take place mainly at night.
Phillips is held up as an example of poor business practice because he sold Elvis before he became huge but Phoenix contended that the sale to RCA was a good deal at the time. As Phillips saw his label expand massively due to the success of Presley's records, Radio stations and record stores all over the South were eager to play his records, and Phillips realized Sun was not large enough to break him nationally. In February 1955, Phillips met with Colonel Tom Parker, a man as famous for his hustling skills as his managerial skills. Parker persuaded Phillips that Presley needed a national record label to help him further his career, and after several more months Phillips agreed to sell Presley's contract for a $35,000 buy out fee. At the time, $35,000 was an unheard of amount of money for a recording artist's contract, especially one who had yet to prove himself on the national stage.
Although Presley didn't want to leave Sun, Phillips sold his contract because he needed the money to settle debts and pay off costs of a copyright-infringement suit. Phillips, however, insisted that he only offered Presley's contract for $35,000 because he believed it would put off any other record label from purchasing it. Regardless, Presley signed a record contract with RCA Victor in November 1955, and left Sun. Phillips used some of the money to further advance the careers of his other artists, by now featuring Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Roy Orbison.
We enjoyed our tour and soon set off for Jackson, it was a long ride in damp conditions and when we reached the hotel, La Quinta Inn, we settled there rather than exploring the area.
That evening we walked across the interstate over a bridge and settled into Chilis for their generous meal for two for $20. I also scored by ordering a beer and getting two as it was the early evening offer. I suspect that this offer was being well used by a large group of guys eating and watching a football game because strong opinions were being expressed on every play – it really enhanced the atmosphere.

Deep South - Fall 2011 - Day 7 - Memphis

2011-11-27T13:23:00.000-08:00

The following day we were based in Memphis and had two of the most popular visits to do, even at this point without benefit of hindsight, we were keener on one than the other. We SatNaved out of the hotel to Graceland. The hotel breakfast was not complimentary so we set off without eating and right after paying $10 to park in the Graceland car park we walked next door to a great diner. Julia had a “short stack” of pancakes and I had bacon and fried eggs “over easy”. Great food and great value. Annoyingly another customer was also going to visit Graceland and the staff were quite happy fort him to leave his car on their parking lot while he did so!
While we were eating a party of four arrived, both men heavily tattooed with Aryan symbols and they ordered big breakfasts – I hope the black lady cooking their meals either didn’t see their ink or exercised some restraint in what she added to their food.
Heading back next door into the ticket sales we opted for Platinum tours at $35 each, this gave us self guided tours of the house and grounds, his car collection, his private planes and other bits and pieces. We then stood in line for the shuttle bus; we managed to be immediately followed by a mother, daughter and two rowdy sons. We were issued with our tour headsets. Two shuttles came and went and the third took us and the annoying boys over the road into the grounds. Julia and I are not great Elvis fans so it is fair to say that the “must see” attraction of Graceland left us a bit cool. We entered the house and were led by the commentary round the ground floor and basement. Inside the house we could use non-flash photography and outside we were free to take unlimited pictures. The furnishings were clearly cutting edge for their time, expensive but on the flashy side. The lounge was the most normal room with a white three piece suit and coffee table but next to it was a music room with a grand piano. Mirrors were not in short supply wherever you looked. We, like many of Elvis’ actual guests, were not allowed upstairs. The dinning room was set out with the best service and looked like a plantation home rather than of its real period. We passed a kitchen but apart from it looking like one we updated at home there was nothing notable about it. From his Jungle room, furnished with African artifacts and fitted carpet on the floor and ceiling, we went downstairs to his TV room, where based on something he had read about a president, he watched three sets simultaneously, Next came the pool room, one of the endearing things I noted was that as a group Elvis and his associates were always playing or competing with each other.
After the house the tour seemed to me to be more about the records and films rather than the man but there were two or three interesting glimpses, in the garage block there was an improvised shooting gallery complete with a man shaped target pinned to some sizable chunks of wood, railway sleepers? Typical of the cult status of Elvis his discarded brass, cartridge cases, were displayed with reverence. He had also enjoyed playing Racquetball so in 1975 he built a court in the grounds of the house; it was state of the art including a weight training area, jacuzzi, the full size court with a viewing gallery and luxury sitting area. Sadly, from my point of view, only the seating area survived, the court area was now another gallery of his record successes.
Leaving this area we arrived at the Meditation Garden. Elvis who died at the estate on August 16, 1977, his parents Gladys and Vernon Presley, and his grandmother, are buried there. A memorial gravestone for Presley's twin brother, Jesse Garon, who died at birth, is also at the site. We didn’t linger here and we soon rejoined the shuttle bus which returned us to the other side of the road,
We checked out the collection of Elvis’ cars without a great deal of enthusiasm but it was much more interesting to get aboard his private planes. It brings home the real wealth of someone who owns a jet airliner and a smaller plane for more intimate journeys.
By now we had overdosed on Elvis and set off to find the National Museum of Civil Rights placed with a deft touch at the Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King was assassinated.
The SatNav again took us accurately to the area but there was something going on and the parking lot was closed and several streets blocked off. We worried for a bit that the museum was also closed but we were able to park a few blocks away and walk back.
Approaching the Lorraine Motel you could easily fool yourself into thinking it is open for business but entering takes you into the most thought provoking series of displays which I defy anyone to pass through without shedding a tear.
Before dealing with our museum experience here is a piece of research about the motel/museum’s history.
The first hotel on the site was the 16 room Windsor Hotel built on the northern side of the complex around 1925 which was renamed the Marquette Hotel. Walter Bailey purchased it in 1945 and renamed it for his wife Loree and the song Sweet Lorraine. During segregation it was an upscale accommodation that catered to a black clientele. He added a second floor and then drive up access for more rooms on the south side of the complex converting the name from Lorraine Hotel to Lorraine Motel. Its guests included musicians going to Stax Records including Ray Charles, Lionel Hampton, Aretha Franklin, Ethel Waters, Otis Redding, The Staple Singers and Wilson Pickett.
Following the assassination of King, Bailey left Room 306 outside of which King was assassinated and the adjoining room 307 unoccupied as a memorial to King. Bailey's wife Loree, who suffered a stroke hours after the assassination, died five days later. He converted the other motel rooms to single room occupancy.
Bailey worked with Chuck Scruggs, program director of WDIA and attorney D'Army Bailey, to raise funds to "Save the Lorraine" in the newly formed Martin Luther King Memorial Foundation and bought the motel on the Shelby County Courthouse steps for $144,000 following foreclosure in December 1982. It changed its name to Lorraine Civil Rights Museum Foundation in 1984. The Lorraine closed as a motel on March 2, 1988 when sheriff's deputies forcibly evicted the last holdout tenant, Jacqueline Smith, in preparation for an $8.8 million overhaul. Bailey died in July 1988. Smithsonian Institution curator Benjamin Lawless created a design for saving historical aspects. The Nashville, Tennessee firm McKissack and McKissack, which claims to be the oldest minority owned architect firm in the United States, was tapped to design a modern museum on grounds of the motel that were not directly related to the assassination.
The museum was dedicated on July 4, 1991 and officially opened to the public on Sept. 28, 1991.
In 1999 the Foundation acquired the Young and Morrow Building and its associated vacant lot on a hill on the west side of Mulberry. A tunnel was built under the lot connecting it with the motel. The Foundation became the custodian of the police and evidence files associated with the assassination including the rifle and fatal bullet which are on display in a 12,800 sq. foot exhibit in the building which opened Sept. 28, 2002.
Once inside the museum we were made really welcome, the staff seemed to care deeply that we should get the best out of the experience and the free commentary headset was brilliant although if you only followed its instructions you would be a little rushed through the displays. The connecting route through the building was brilliantly designed and the experiences differed from hands-on to video. There is far too much to list and the rule against photography inside means that I have no easy reminders of the exhibits but perhaps that makes one concentrate on what you are experiencing. I saw with horror photos of black men being lynched in front of large crowds. I sat on a bus next to Rosa Parkes as she was ordered to go to the back, the irony being if I had got on that bus she would normally have given up her seat to me. I saw a Woolworth’s food counter being peacefully occupied by black students, trained how to take a beating without fighting back. I passed a burnt out Greyhound bus used by the freedom riders. I walked across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma. I saw Martin Luther King’s cell in Birmingham Jail. I experienced the triumph of the March on Washington and with some foreboding I heard MLK’s words: Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.From there you arrive at his motel room, left untouched because even then people recognised the history in that moment, and looking out you see the wreath on the balcony – it is a very powerful moment.
In our case we realised that the museum was half an hour from closing and we went downstairs, the staff urged us to go across the road to the Young and Morrow Building at 422 Main Street on the west side of Mulberry up a small hill across the street from the motel which was the site where James Earl Ray initially confessed (and later recanted) to shooting King from a second story bathroom window as well as the Canipe’s Amusement Store at 418 Main Street next door to the rooming house where the alleged murder weapon with Ray's fingerprints was found. Included on the grounds is the brushy lot that stood between the rooming house and the motel where a differing theory says the fatal shot came from a different weapon at ground level in a conspiracy involving Loyd Jowers who operated Jim's Grill which opened onto the lot.
Here we had little enough time to take in all the exhibits but we saw the bathroom window from which James Earl Ray probably fired and, in another claim to fame, we saw the actual assassination weapon, the only one ever released by the FBI after any of the famous assassinations.
As the museum closed we left with very deep thoughts, the deepest of which is, and always will be, would I have had the courage to stand up and be counted?
The area was crowded because of the River Arts Fest and, despite our sombre mood, it was a vibrant and tuneful wander as we took a roundabout route to the parked car.
Back at the hotel we decided to walk to the TGIF restaurant we had seen from the shuttle the previous night, we set off and needed to return to the hotel after five or so blocks because neither of us had picked up any money. We made it on the second attempt and we had a great meal at a very reasonable price before getting a relatively early night in anticipation of another 200 mile plus journey to Jackson the next day.

Deep South - Fall 2011 - Day 6

2011-11-25T09:02:00.001-08:00

Nashville was only a one night stop; we had removed a night there from our plan in order to fit in basketball matches on the Saturday before we set off. We knew that this would make seeing much of Nashville a problem particularly when we knew the journey on was over 200 miles.
Our best solution was a bus tour in the morning before moving on, we chose as we have done before Gray Line Buses and this time it turned out to be a tram type bus where I was able to take my photos through an open window rather than through glass. Before we bought our ticket at the riverside terminus we had to find somewhere to park. We located a parking lot which was pay and display but since firstly the ticket machine refused to work and secondly no other vehicles were displaying any tickets we decided to take a chance on leaving the car there without doing either.
The strange thing with the Hop On Hop Off system is that the drivers who commentate as they drive have little or no incentive to check passengers have a ticket as they are paid to drive and their tips add to their income so the more passengers the more chance of a tip.
From the terminus we were directed to the start of the circuit where there were people also buying tickets, since we had ours already we got straight onto the bus, without showing anything to the driver. We set off when the bus was full and soon learned that the bus driver/guide by day was a musician by night. He was very informative and he must have been quite successful as a musician because he seemed to have played in pretty much every venue he mentioned on the tour. As we were enjoying his commentary and also we needed to be on the road again as soon as possible we didn’t take advantage of the HOHO option but had we done so it would have been at the Centenary Park where there was a brilliant time line covering the history of the city.
As a taster of Nashville the bus ride was great; we got a personal buzz when we passed the Red Rooster and our driver told us what a great venue it was but there again he complimented the food and that was a step too far in our opinion.
Returning to the start we left the bus, tipped the driver, and took away our unchecked tickets. The car was fine, not decorated by a parking ticket and we set off for Memphis via the Shiloh Battle Site National park. This was only a short detour from our direct route and well worth it.
Even before entering the visitors centre we happened on a school party being shown how to load and fire a Civil War musket – being American kids I bet half of them already knew more than enough about shooting but it was interesting to us. The young lady dressed in Confederate Grey fired three rounds and even such a small volley of fire made us realise just how the noise and smoke would have made the battles a hell on earth. We were told later at a similar demonstration it was difficult for inexperienced soldiers to know if their gun had fired properly in the heat of battle; a fact illustrated by the recorded finding of muskets with up to ten loads of undischarged gun powder down their barrel. These were weapons that remained intact to be discovered later there must have been more in that state that finally ignited the powder and blew up the gun and gunner.
The battle takes its name from the Shiloh chapel which was pretty central to the action and on the Shiloh National Military Park there is a battle trail of some 30 miles that we drove in the car and followed on the free map which we were given in the visitor centre.
As I decided earlier I will give the bare facts in the format I have used earlier but this time they cannot stand alone!
Dates - April 6 - 7, 1862
Union Commander - Ulysses S. Grant
Confederate Commander - Albert Sydney Johnston & P. G. T. Beauregard
Forces Engaged - 65,085 Union v 44,968 Confederate
Estimated Casualties - 13,047 Union v 10,669 Confederate
Result - Union Victory
This battle was a game of two halves, on the first day the Southern forces swept the Northern armies before them and took lots of ground however the following day the Union pushed the Confederates back to their starting points and beyond.
To quote official sources:
Attacking the Union troops on the morning of the 6th, the Confederates surprised them, routing many. Some Federals made determined stands and by afternoon, they had established a battle line at the sunken road, known as the “Hornets Nest.” Repeated Rebel attacks failed to carry the Hornets Nest, but massed artillery helped to turn the tide as Confederates surrounded the Union troops and captured, killed, or wounded most. Johnston had been mortally wounded earlier and his second in command, Gen. P.G.T. Beauregard, took over. The Union troops established another line covering Pittsburg Landing, anchored with artillery and augmented by Buell’s men who began to arrive and take up positions. Fighting continued until after dark, but the Federals held. By the next morning, the combined Federal forces numbered about 40,000, outnumbering Beauregard’s army of less than 30,000. Beauregard was unaware of the arrival of Buell’s army and launched a counterattack in response to a two-mile advance by William Nelson’s division of Buell’s army at 6:00 am, which was, at first, successful. Union troops stiffened and began forcing the Confederates back. Beauregard ordered a counterattack, which stopped the Union advance but did not break its battle line. At this point, Beauregard realized that he could not win and, having suffered too many casualties, he retired from the field and headed back to Corinth. On the 8th, Grant sent Brig. Gen. William T. Sherman, with two brigades, and Brig. Gen. Thomas J. Wood, with his division, in pursuit of Beauregard. They ran into the Rebel rearguard, commanded by Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest, at Fallen Timbers. Forrest’s aggressive tactics influenced the Union troops to return to Pittsburg Landing. Grant’s mastery of the Confederate forces continued; he had beaten them once again. The Confederates continued to fall back until launching their mid-August offensive.
Shiloh is one of the nation's oldest and best preserved battlefield parks. In the late 1890s, returning veterans used more than 150 monuments, 200 cannon, and 650 historic tablets to "suitable mark" the 4,000 acre site.
As we travelled the battlefield trail we encountered similar signs to those at Chickamauga red on white for the Confederate forces and white on blue for the Union, but this time there were rectangular signs for the first day and lozenge shape for the second. In many places the same regiments appeared on both days but in retreat once and moving forward the other – it was a superb illustration of the futility of war.
We moved on to Memphis and arrived safely at the Crowne Plaza Memphis Downtown, a much more up-market hotel than most of the others. It had all the usual advantages of a better class establishment; we had to pay for parking and breakfast!
As with most days when Julia had driven we preferred not to drive for our evening meal but we were able to catch the hotel shuttle to Beale Street; this is a street in Downtown Memphis, Tennessee, which runs from the Mississippi River to East Street, a distance of approximately 1.8 miles. It is a significant location in the city's history, as well as in the history of the blues. Today, the blues clubs and restaurants that line Beale Street are major tourist attractions in Memphis. Festivals and outdoor concerts periodically bring large crowds to the street and its surrounding areas. Though given an exemption by the state of Tennessee to keep clubs open until 5 a.m., there is now an effort to reduce the hours to a 3 am closing time.
We enjoyed a stroll up and down and settled on a jazz playing bar where the choice was to sit right next to the live band or at the bar – we opted for the bar.
The meal was fine and we washed it down with a couple of beers, the barman was great company and we enjoyed his conversation. As Julia had gone to the restroom he was creating a cocktail which was a major work of art, on the point of finishing it he cracked the glass and had to start over. Commenting on his run of bad luck he leaned over to me and said, “If it rained whores mine would be a lesbian!” When I get my next bad call or get beaten by a lucky netcord I’ll perhaps think of him and smile.
Shortly after midnight but long before 3.00am we called the shuttle and he dropped us and other back at the hotel, we chatted to a Harley Davison couple on the ride back and discovered that there were no cheap rooms available in Memphis but they nor the driver had any idea why it was so busy.

Deep South - Fall 2011 - Day 5

2011-11-24T12:08:00.000-08:00

We knew this was to be a long day so we had an early breakfast and moved on from the hotel. The breakfast had a buffet option in the Garden restaurant again but we both opted for a cooked choice, Julia had a stack of pancakes while I had the Conductor’s Choice, three fried eggs on a bacon and hash brown base – it proved a very good start to the day. Incidentally we took our tea bags down to breakfast and the waiter was happy to provide mugs of boiling water to get our start of the day fix of caffeine in tea form.
Next we headed to the Incline Railway up Lookout Mountain; we parked and caught a train up the mountainside at about 10.00. We sat facing down the slope and crossed with the other car at the halfway point, the only stretch of double track. As we ascended there was an excellent commentary which covered the “Battle above the Clouds” where the Union forces fought up the almost impossible slopes to dislodge the Confederates who were dug in at the summit. This was an important part of the raising of the siege of Chattanooga by the Southern troops after their victory at Chickamauga.
On reaching the top of Lookout Mountain the views were tremendous and we took some good pictures before walking some 200 yards to the Battles for Chattanooga Information Centre, here at a very reasonable price we watched a presentation involving video, a large relief model and thousands of pinpoint lights, which explained everything that happened from before the Chickamauga battle up to the Union driving the Confederates away from Chattanooga. It was an amazingly effective teaching tool.
To summarize the battles which combined under the name of Chattanooga:
Dates - November 23 - 25, 1863
Union Commander - Ulysses S. Grant
Confederate Commander - Braxton Bragg
Forces Engaged - 56,359 Union v 44,010 Confederate
Estimated Casualties - 5,815 Union v 6,670 Confederate
Result - Union Victory
We took a return ride down the mountain and set off for Nashville some 150 miles away but further for us as we had it in mind to visit the Jack Daniels Distillery in Lynchburg TN.
We made good time and reached the visitor centre and registered for a guided tour, we did not sign up for the interpreter which may have been offered and certainly we needed. Our guide spoke English with the heaviest southern drawl that either of us can ever remember. Julia claimed not to understand anything while I kept thinking I had got on the right wavelength for short bursts before losing it again. I’m sure she was excellent and in fact very funny but that’s only by judging the reaction of others in our tour. Even before the tour we had noted that amongst the cars and trucks in the parking lot there were several campervans and some strange equipment on trailers, one of the few things I understood from our guide was that the annual BBQ competition was due to take place over the next weekend. With this in mind she asked everyone if they were “competing or eating?” She was judging but since some of the competitors were from Australia I doubt they ever worked out if they won or not.
The tour was interesting, what we understood of it, and here are some facts which I recall:
1) All Jack Daniels sold anywhere is distilled at this one site.
2) Jack Daniels was a very small guy
3) Nobody knows why his label is marked “No 7”
4) He died of an infection in his foot caused by him kicking his safe in frustration.
The most notable fact of all is that Lynchburg is in a dry county so we could not sample the drink and only recently had the firm been allowed to sell their products at the distillery on the understanding they were sold as souvenirs.
We later bought a bottle of Green Label as a present for an English friend who would not have seen it as it only sells in 44 of the United States to date.
We traveled on to Nashville and found the hotel, Best Western Downtown Music Row, by about 17.00, there was no restaurant in the hotel and we didn’t want to get into the car again so while Julia chilled out after her driving I scouted the neighbourhood. Within easy walking distance I found two pubs that served food, the second of which was the Red Rooster and this got my vote as there was a live group on.
We were agreed and the Red Rooster was indeed an experience, the food was passable and the atmosphere was unique in our experience. The audience was very varied and there were several women with children who were looked after by almost anyone there and just as we thought we had identified a lady as the partner of one of the singers that singer would leave the stage and completely ignore the lady. On a regular basis new people would come into the bar and clearly they were celebrities at this level but of course we had no chance to recognise them. The group of four musicians on the stage was not a group, they were four solo singers and they each delivered a song in turn and sort of supported each other if they could be bothered. After two songs each they were applauded off the stage and almost at once replaced by another four soloists, we saw two changes before needing to sleep.

Deep South - Fall 2011 - Day 4

2011-11-24T07:38:00.000-08:00

Joe met us over breakfast and he assured us that we had made the right decision regarding his match the previous evening. It had been a long journey to and from the game and during the game both before and at halftime there had been almost an hour of testimony as it is a religiously based team that he plays for. He was tired and it would have been a poor preparation for us travelling on to Chattanooga this day. Joe warned us that the weather was expected to deteriorate during the day and that we were likely to travel through rain. It was great catching up with him but all too soon he had to leave us to go into work.
We decided that we would heed Joe’s weather advice and get on the road to Chattanooga as soon as possible, this decision sacrificed our chance to experience the Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway in order to clear the bad weather.
As it happened it rained quire hard for most of the 220 mile trip, Julia handled the conditions well and despite being a bit noisy the Ford we had selected never let us down. Strangely we ran out of the rain just as we were reaching the edge of Chattanooga, we then reset the SatNav for the first of our on route visits, the Chickamauga Battle Information Centre. It was a slightly bizarre experience when we were told that we had “reached our destination” in a car park of a law firm right next to the highway. We never solved this part of the puzzle but as we drove around the side streets we came upon the signs which would soon become very familiar to us, white rectangular signs printed in red show Confederate troop placements at vital times in the battle, while similar signs with white writing on blue show the Union troop placements. The first sign we stopped to read was red and gave us the position of troops led by Brig. Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest – look him up! He was a military genius who was hugely successful commanding his cavalry against the Northern forces in the Civil War but his infamy comes from his founding of the Klu Klux Klan – film buffs will remember that Forrest Gump was named after him as he explained “And anyway, that's how I got my name, Forrest Gump. Mama said the Forrest part was to remind me that sometimes we all do things that, well, just don't make no sense.” More of that great philosopher later.
So after some dozen signs and three statues we were thinking that there should have been a little more but we got back onto the highway and almost at once spotted a sign sending us off to the right for the 6th Calvary Museum. We took this option hoping it might be linked to the Battle of Chickamauga in some way.
We pulled into a car park next to an attack helicopter on a stand, similar to the Airfix kits I used to make but instead of 1-72 scale this was 1 – 1! We were the only visitors and the curator/volunteer was the most attentive of hosts.
To quote from their website:
The 6th U.S. Cavalry was organized in Pittsburgh, PA in 1861, fighting in the Civil War with notable success at Williamsburg in 1862 and during the Battle of Gettysburg at Fairfield. The 6th received 16 battle streamers for their efforts with three 6th cavalrymen receiving the Medal of Honor.
Following the Civil War, the 6th fought the Indian Wars adding ten battle streamers to their Regimental Standard with 46 Medals of Honor given for individual bravery. 6th Cavalryman Lt. Charles Gatewood convinced Geronimo to surrender and return to the reservation, ending a year of murder and terror on the plains.
The Spanish-American War of 1898, saw the 6th Cavalry side-by-side with Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders as they won the war in Cuba. The 6th continued on with service in the Boxer Rebellion, Philippines, Mexican Punitive Exhibition, and Yellowstone National Park.
World War I saw little action for the 6th as the Armistice was signed as the regiment was preparing for front line combat. Upon returning to the U.S., the 6th was permanently stationed at The Post at Fort Oglethorpe (1919 – 1942). During this period the Regiment became a “spit and polish” outfit. Competitive polo, military horse tournaments, team sports competition, parades and troop reviews were a way of life at the Post as were the many social activities that brought Chattanooga residents south to North Georgia. The training year annually closed with marches or maneuvers to Alabama, Tennessee and South Carolina.
In 1933, the 6th furnished officers and men to organize and instruct the newly formed Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), which saw the civilians paid more than the soldiers.
In 1938, the 6th formed the guard for FDR’s visit to Gainesville, Georgia and Chattanooga, Tennessee.
While stationed at Fort Oglethorpe the 6th experimented with the merger of horse and mechanization, field tested the Bantam Car (later to be known as the Jeep) and motorcycle. The use of horses was over and when called for duty in WWII, the 6th Cavalry (Mechanized) landed in Northern Ireland without any horses.
The 6th entered World War II assigned to Patton’s Third Army doing reconnaissance and landed at Utah Beach at D-Day+33. The 6th earned the Presidential Unit Citation for its part in the Battle of the Bulge 1944-1945. At war’s end in Europe, the 6th Cavalry Group had participated in 281 days of continuous and victorious combat. Five battle streamers were awarded for their service in World War II.
Following World War II, the Post at Fort Oglethorpe was determined to be too small for military use, with the buildings and property sold through sealed bid by the War Assets Department to private citizens. The City of Fort Oglethorpe was officially incorporated in 1949, the first new town in Georgia in 25 years.
The Regiment remained in Europe where it patrolled 172 miles of rugged mountain country along the German-Czech border. Also assisting in the reconstruction of Germany and helping at orphanages and schools.
The Bavarian Government was so thankful for the Regiment’s help that it presented a beautiful silver plaque embossed with the Shield of Bavaria. This gift is on display at the museum and is the only known official recognition given an American unit by a German State.
We noticed from the displays that the 6th had set off on D-Day from Weymouth which is a link to my sister and their family who traditionally holiday there; hopefully we will get a chance to see what traces of the US forces remain there some time in the future.
I was allowed to sit in a Willy’s Jeep and politely refused to climb into a M47 Patton Tank, with my unreliable knee I might have struggled to re-emerge!
Our guide clarified where the Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park / Chickamauga Battlefield actually was, just to bring home the shadow the Civil War still casts today he told us his Great, Great Grandfather and his son, or father, had lived only 30 miles from the museum and eventually fought for the Confederacy at Chickamauga, the older one was captured by the Union forces and was later traded as a prisoner of war for a mule. I knew that at times prisoners were released having given their word not to continue fighting and there were POW exchanges but I assumed up to then it was men for men!
We made our way to the Battlefield Visitor Centre and were very impressed. In all our travels this was the clearest display of the Civil War timeline. We spend quite a long time inside the visitor centre, after all every sign must be read and understood! Thus we only had limited time to drive round the huge battlefield itself.
The visitor centres are run by the US National Parks Department and the Rangers who man these centres are incredibly knowledgeable but not always equally tactful. I saw a man of about my vintage telling the Ranger behind the information desk that he had traced a relative of his to a certain unit which took part in this particular battle, the Ranger visibly deflated his visitor, when he announced that the unit in question had run away at the first shot! Did it need saying?
Our first impression, reinforced many times on the tour, was the huge number of artillery pieces which have been gathered up on these sites to illustrate their history – I’m convinced the South could re-arm at a primitive level just by re-drilling these guns!
Since we visited several battle sites I feel I should minimize the accounts of them because there are many better sources than me to consult if the reader is interested. On that basis the bare bones of Chickamauga are:
Dates - September 18 - 20, 1863
Union Commander - William S. Rosecrans
Confederate Commanders - Braxton Bragg & James Longstreet
Forces Engaged - 60,000 Union v 65,000 Confederate
Estimated Casualties - 16,170 Union v 18,454 Confederate
Result - Confederate Victory
As we observed many times the area of the battles were large and very often the winning side should/might have pushed home their advantage but failed to do so for various reasons not least the simple human necessities of eating and sleeping, Buford on this occasion wanted to pursue the Northern forces, “keepin’ on the skeer” as he called it but he was overruled by his Commander Bragg.
We clicked the SatNav back to the, don’t laugh, Chattanooga Choo Choo Hotel and we were soon in the hugely impressive lobby, clearly it was an old railway concourse which the hotel had kept to a very high standard of décor.
The rest of our hotel experience did not quite live up to the lobby. We were in Building Two a very standard square built block with no working elevator and a major dirty water leak in the corridor outside our room. I guess railways tend to run through the less affluent areas of a town and certainly our surroundings did not encourage us to seek the evening meal out of the hotel. We elected to eat in the Garden Restaurant having discovered that the Buffet Car option was not available during the week.
Mentioning the Buffet Car pushes me towards explaining how the hotel is set out, the reception area is the railway station and the best rooms are in old style parked trains which are on either side of three platforms which again are probably the authentic ones from the working station in the past. With hind-sight we should perhaps have specified one of these rooms and paid the difference for a more memorable experience.
Our dinner in the restaurant was good if a little more expensive than elsewhere, we opted for the buffet and we were well satisfied when we retired to the bar for a night-cap.

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 3

2011-11-23T15:05:00.000-08:00

We had breakfast at the hotel and bought tickets for the Biltmore Estate at reception. The ticket would allow us to come and go as we pleased so we were hoping to meet up with Joe for lunch having reluctantly decided not to travel to his basketball game in the evening as it was two hours away. Unfortunately work swallowed him up and we were unable to catch up.
We found our way easily to the Biltmore Estate and having a ticket already allowed us to overtake those who still had to buy them, incidentally we found the $60 each excessive but hoped it might repay Joe’s opinion.
To quote Wikipedia:
Biltmore House is a Châteauesque-styled mansion near Asheville, North Carolina, built by George Washington Vanderbilt II between 1889 and 1895. It is the largest privately-owned home in the United States, at 135,000 square feet (12,500 m2) and featuring 250 rooms. Still owned by one of Vanderbilt's descendants, it stands today as one of the most prominent remaining examples of the Gilded Age, and of significant gardens in the Garden à la française and English Landscape garden styles in the United States. In 2007, it was ranked eighth on the List of America's Favorite Architecture by the American Institute of Architects.
Perhaps we English are spoilt in terms of history and the historic but it was hard to marvel at a house new enough to have been built with electricity. The basic self-guided tour was enough to get the feel of the house and family. We struggled to take seriously a very modern oil painting of the family which managed to make them look like the cast of Dallas. We were disappointed to have completed the tour and emerged again in front of the house without having appeared on the balcony above us which would have given amazing views. Hoping that we had missed a sign, unlikely as Julia reads everything on such a tour, we went back in and asked. The people on the balcony had invested in the Architects Tour a mere $30 extra! I was also unimpressed by the no photography in the house rule. I can not be surprised that the Vanderbilts remain wealthy.
The gardens and grounds are indeed impressive but we did find it strange that everywhere we walked to there were cars passing close by or even driving through. I thought this was merely a reflection of the American aversion to walking but it became clear when we returned to our car to leave the estate via the winery and village. We found ourselves following a route that took us through the centre of the gardens.
We took a break in the Biltmore village and Julia indulged in the wine-tasting, she seemed to score some points with the sommelier by preferring something which was not white and as sweet as syrup. She enjoyed the Red Zinfandel from their own vineyard and I thought it would be nice to have a bottle but not being as rich as the Vanderbilts the pricing put us off.
From Biltmore we headed into downtown Asheville, by now it was about 3.30, it was an enjoyable stroll through very varied buildings. Not for the last time on our trip we observed that some of the most historic buildings had been saved by economic depression, nobody being able to afford their replacement until people decided they were worth saving in their own right.
It amused me that although the Civil War pretty much bypassed Asheville it had its share of monuments but all I saw were dedicated to Confederate heroes who were of course on the losing side, I noted that some of these had been erected as late as 1938. I recall one monument was dedicated to a Confederate Soldier named Zebulon Baird Vance quite a name to inspire greatness. Amongst such monuments there are much newer artworks and it made for an interesting tour. When we had covered most of the town on foot we saw an open tram which was doing a tour - better research might have seen us riding that tram.
Even though it was mid-afternoon there were several buskers playing and a few human statues but our personal favourite was a guy who busked on his guitar while painted totally white, a strange combination of the two techniques.
We couldn’t risk another set of clothes so we back-tracked to the hotel and later ate out at the Chilis that we had spotted earlier. A shared starter and two mains for $20 cannot be complained about, we returned to the hotel content, full and dry. A much better day.

Deep South Tour Fall 2011 - Day 2

2011-11-22T11:50:00.000-08:00

Day2
We woke after a good nights sleep at the Days Inn Downtown in Atlanta and headed down for breakfast which was included in our stay. There was nothing special about the buffet breakfast but it gave us the easiest start to the day when we had already decided to move on to Asheville as soon as possible as we were going to spend a few days in Atlanta at the end of the tour.
While we sat in a window seat eating breakfast a guy who obviously lived on the street sat himself down outside the hotel. We were not surprised when one of the hotel staff went out to him but instead of sending him away she took him some breakfast. We noted that as he finished and moved off he was careful to clear up all his rubbish. It was another example of the friendliness we were due to encounter all over the south.
I took a few pictures of the hotel and surrounds while I was reloading the car and we set off for Asheville, North Carolina by about 10.00.
We travelled through some of South Carolina and were intrigued by the frequent signs advertising “Home Boiled Peanuts”. I’m a peanut fan but we didn’t stop to buy and the signs disappeared as soon as we entered North Carolina.
We checked into the Ramada Inn at River Ridge in Asheville by 1300, which was a pleasing hotel/motel and as we were to find was common we had two beds of at least British double proportions. We were due to stay two nights so we needed to unpack and set up our luggage to make life easier on our tour. We put all the tea making equipment into a small sports bag that came over in the hold luggage along with books and snacks. My backpack contains the cameras, video and still, the laptop and the holiday file. Then we make sure there are enough clothes in one of our two big bags so that the other can remain in the trunk of the car. It was around this time that we realised that we had a phone problem, my UK mobile is basic and doesn’t do transatlantic, Julia’s is capable of it but we had brought the wrong charging lead and it was flat so no help. The US mobile we had bought in a previous visit had no credit on it.
We had included Asheville on the extension of the basic tour for two reasons, firstly to tick off another State and secondly to catch up with Joe Barber who stayed with us while playing for Derby Trailblazers in the 2006/07 season. We thought he had always lived in Asheville so we wondered if we would see him and his family. We had been in contact via Facebook and had his number so after a few failed attempts to ring him from the room with the help of reception Julia managed to tell him we had arrived. He works coordinating sport in the Asheville area based at the YMCA but he makes his own hours so he was able to come over and visit with us in the hotel.
He heartily recommended a visit to Biltmore House which would take up most of the following day and he was emphatic that we should eat in the Downtown area of Asheville as it is at its most cosmopolitan in the evening. Disappointingly he was unable to join us that evening as he was working then at training with his basketball team. We agreed to meet up the next day after a meeting he had in the morning and he then had to go back to work but he lead us to a Bestbuy where we were able to put some AT&T credit on to our US phone although we ended up with another number as the previous one had expired.
We spotted a Chilis restaurant as we headed back to the hotel and stored its location as they are a super-safe option for cheap but enjoyable eating. We also stopped at the local Walmart to pick up milk, which sadly is only sold in bulk, a quart being the smallest measure, cookies and chips.
I think we may have napped in the afternoon before heading into Asheville to explore and eat. Joe had recommended the Tupelo Honey Café and I’m sure it would have been good but we decided not to queue outside as there was quite a long line. Instead we chose the Jack of the Woods Pubic House, it was welcoming and we were soon settled towards the back of the bar with a beer each and our food ordered. It was apparently quiz-night and a very “studenty” group was gathering in our area. Two girls became three couples, three couples became five, we had long since given up the spare chairs at our table and their loud, young, the world belongs to us attitude would have driven us to leave as soon as we finished our food. Sadly this was not acceptable to fate and the arrival of couple six moved us very quickly, girl six on the pretext of kissing all the gathered team, turned gracefully and knocked Julia’s half full beer over her plate of food and into her lap! She, G6, was very apologetic and paid for her damage, a new meal was served to Julia on another table but we saw the group annex our previous table and chairs faster than Hitler invading Poland!
The quiz started while we finished our meal and I have to admit we would have fared very badly if we had entered, perhaps the questions were too American based but we knew very few answers. It was not a great night!

Deep South Tour - Fall 2011 - Day 1

2011-11-22T07:34:00.000-08:00

I am returning to Blogging having recently enjoyed three weeks in the Southern States of America and realizing that I missed the mental exercise of writing.
We were in the Deep South from Sunday the 16th of October to Sunday the 6th of November.
Our route was Atlanta, Georgia to Asheville, North Carolina to Chattanooga, Tennessee to Nashville to Memphis to Jackson, Mississippi to Natchez to Lafayette, Louisiana to New Orleans to Montgomery, Alabama to Savannah GA to Charleston, South Carolina and finally back to Atlanta.
That’s seven states towards our ongoing quest to visit every state of the union and twelve towns/hotels. My Multimap research indicated that just from hotel to hotel the mileage would be 2480 with a travelling time of 38 hours but we knew that we would drive about on non-travelling days and we planned detours to see attractions enroute so the mileage was always going to exceed this estimate. We had twelve traveling days to cover the 2400plus miles so it was pretty much 200 miles per travelling day average.
Julia did an amazing amount of research prior to our trip and on the basis of her work she was granted naming rights to the tour, she came up with “Civil War, Civil Rights, Jazz and Blues”. Her title stood up well to the experience we shared.
Our vacation was planned for us by American Sky and despite a few quibbles here and there we can heartily recommend them, their basic tour was 14 days, we added to it and tweaked it without ever defeating them. Everything was correctly booked and we were expected by everyone on the itinerary.
We set off from Derby to London Heathrow on Sunday 16th of October; we flew out at 15.00 so we ensured that we allowed plenty of time by leaving home soon after 9.00 for the two and a half hour drive. One of the small frustrations was that we had already set the SatNav up for the USA so we navigated with older methods. With the haunting experience of having missed our flight on the way to New England last year we had also discussed with Purple Parking how, if we were running late, we could go direct to the airport and have them collect the car from there. Nothing of this sort was required, the journey went well and we were in the departure lounge with plenty of time to spare.
We travelled with British Airways this time, we have never looked to specify the airline but I have to say it matched up poorly to Virgin Atlantic, our carrier to Boston last year. Like every other flight we travel on, the plane was full and, however close to exactly 24 hours before flight time we check in, our seats are always in the last three rows. This flight we were placed behind a large party who were doing a Railroad tour similar to our fly drive in part. They had a travelling courier who knew some of the flight crew and it was interesting to hear that they described our plane as “tired” which it demonstrated by my seat refusing to lock in the upright position and the in-flight entertainment system having to be rebooted twice before we could enjoy a film.
I had a small instance of karma, not something I believe in but, when the young woman who had battered my ankles with her large carry-on case all the way down the aircraft was struck on the head by a henpecked man trying to force his equally large case into the already full locker above her head. He demonstrated the world’s most insincere apology despite her having received a pretty solid blow due to his ineptitude. We then enjoyed his wife taking over the job and redistributing other people’s luggage to lockers far and wide in order to reunite their baggage in one cozy location.
When I observe the English middle class of that type I try to feel some sympathy that they have fallen on hard times and now have to share with such common folk as us.
The time zones were on our side and it was only 1900 local time when we arrived in the mighty city which is Atlanta International Airport. We got through immigration and shortly after claimed our hold luggage only to have to pass through customs with it and surrender it again to a baggage carousel, I tried to explain that we had arrived and were not flying on but I was quickly corrected, this procedure was simply to get the bags across the airport and we found ourselves traveling on a monorail several stops to the main hub.
It has always been my intention to spend our first night in the USA as near to the airport as possible if we are collecting a hire car and moving on the following day. I am at a loss as to how I fail so thoroughly to convey this part of my plan to those involved in booking our accommodation. This time we found ourselves on another train dragging our wheeled bags and carrying our hand luggage, my back pack and Julia’s handbag, purse to our American friends. We passed through a stop labeled Airport Hotels but journeyed on to the Car Hire centre. I would have preferred to be checking into a hotel as we were claiming our hire car looking forward to a journey of twelve miles in the dark hoping that the SatNav had the USA correctly loaded and could pick up a signal before we were lost.
Our Dollar Car Hire voucher entitled us to a Compact car – we had upgraded from Economy – and we noted that we had Platinum insurance. We were amused therefore to be offered an insurance package which covered roadside assistance which we declined, if platinum was less than recommended what would they have called this package? Diamond Encrusted!
Having passed through the office side of the operation we followed signs to the garage, there we handed over some paperwork and were told to pick any car from the C aisle. We picked a Ford Focus, partly because we are considering swapping to one next year but we should have been prepared to check out some more cars before deciding. Just by opening the trunks we might have found one with no “lip” to lift the bags over and that would have made me less concerned about hurting my back with the lifting.
The SatNav was fine but it refused to accept that 300 Spring Street existed but a mixture of luck and good management saw us arrive by about 2140. At check-in we presented our voucher to the tired guy behind the desk, he was very welcoming and we warmed to each other when he asked how we were paying the 15$ for overnight parking and we told him that we were expecting the cost having read it on the internet. He was delighted with us agreeing that it appeared on their website as this was denied by most of his customers causing considerable aggravation. He was so pleased that he paid the charge himself.
The hotel served its purpose and we decided to get to bed rather than eat again.
We had just decided against unpacking to find our travel kettle to make tea and reluctantly settled for sharing a soda from the vending machine when the room phone rang. Our friend Sheila from New Orleans had tracked us down and was welcoming us to the states.

Thursday 24 Feb 2011- Berlin Blog - Retreat

2011-03-17T09:22:00.000-07:00

It was an easy process to eat breakfast and get packed up ready to be picked up at the hotel and taken to the airport.
I checked out paying for the three beers we had each had on our return to the warm hotel after eating out and they proved to be extremely reasonable. We were settled in the lounge when at exactly the appointed time our driver appeared to pick us up.
We found ourselves in the minibus heading out of the city with two of the people who had come in with us. A mother and daughter pairing who had also enjoyed Berlin very much, we had several similar experiences but there were different things which we had done this confirmed to us that Berlin would be worthy another visit in future.
On our walk to the restaurant on the first evening we had thought that the area we were in was no the best, as we drove through the region this was confirmed amongst the generally run down shops there were a high proportion of sex shops and massage parlours.
We reached the airport early and made the mistake of passing through the first layer of security before the Ryan Air desks were open for our flight, we camped out on the floor in the absence of any seating in the area and after 45 minutes we were well placed to join the check in line for our flight. I have never before been the first in such a line.
Check in was painless but the similar bag, weighed by my hand held luggage scale to be 14.5Kg, now registered 13.9 on the airline scales where it had been slightly over the 15kg weight coming out – there is no logic to this but we were not asked for excess baggage in either direction.
We read our books in a concourse and at last the gate was announced to be the furthest from the point we had chosen. Despite having to queue twice more we were able to get our hand luggage into the locker and had reasonable seats.
On our return to East Midlands Airport we picked up our car and were home by mid-afternoon.

Wednesday 23 Feb 2011- Berlin Blog

2011-03-15T14:54:00.001-07:00

Once again we enjoyed our buffet breakfast but today we brought down to the dinning area our own British teabags and we also spotted some tea pots so we were as near to tea perfection as we could be. The hot water was close to boiling so the tea infused fully and we had the perfect English start to the day.
The temperature was higher than the previous day a mere minus 5 degrees but we were determined to cope with it and have a full day in the city.
We walked to our underground station and took a train to the 1936 Olympic Stadium. We emerged from a tree-lined walk into a large expanse of concrete with the Stadium standing impressively in front of us. As anyone with any regard for history will know this was the centre-piece for the 1936 Olympic Games which Hitler embraced as an opportunity to demonstrate the dominance of the Aryan master-race. By chance, and the strength of its construction, the Stadium emerged almost undamaged from the Second World War so that when it was later used in two world cups 1974 and 2006 its historic significance was not lost on observers.
The chief technician on the project, said to the BBC: "Whenever you enter, you will still know this was the site of the 1936 Games. You will pass all the old Nazi sculptures".
"The history is there, the totality of the buildings is there. The whole Nazi landscape has not disappeared", added the sports sociologist Günther Gebauer. "There are towers like in a fortress, and people who come will always ask where the Führer sat.”
We paid for admission and Julia rented a recorded commentary, the amusing thing was that as a deposit the stadium demanded a piece of Photo Id – as we had discovered on our cruises our England basketball licenses are always accepted as if they were much more important documents than they are in fact. We use them extensively on shore visits because they are so much less hassle to replace than a passport.
The stadium is now the home of Hertha Berlin now in the German Second division and in reorganization of that association the running track is in blue their team colour. Otherwise there is little colour involved and the solidity of the whole thing is almost military in appearance.
The fact that Jesse Owen messed up the Fuhrer’s party is well known but being there really brought home the pressure he must have felt.
I took several pleasing photos of the arena as I am coming to terms with my latest camera. For Christmas Julia booked me a photography course but it didn’t really help me much. The idea was to take over aperture control from the automatic settings and thus understand the depth of field better. I found the theory easy enough but practically it was difficult and I certainly never improved on the camera’s decisions!
On our return to Derby we discovered that a friend in basketball was stationed nearby in order to work in the stadium as a Physical Training officer for the occupying forces long after the war, he had plenty to tell about his stay in the city including ventures into the East which were profitable in terms of exchange rate but forbidden to his rank and unit.
From the Stadium we rejoined the underground and emerged close to Schloss Charlottenburg which Julia’s research had indicated to be well worthy of a visit. I say we emerged close to it we did but we had chosen the wrong exit from the underground station thus we were puzzled to see no signs of it. An elderly cyclist discerned our confusion and skidded to a halt by us and in limited English asked what we were seeking and gave us excellent instructions.
Charlottenburg Palace is the largest palace in Berlin and the only royal residency in the city dating back to the time of the Hohenzollern family. It is located in the Charlottenburg district of the Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf burough.
The palace was built at the end of the 17th century and was greatly expanded during the 18th century. It includes much exotic internal decoration in baroque and rococo styles. A large formal garden surrounded by woodland was constructed behind the palace. In the grounds of the palace various buildings were erected, including a belvedere, a mausoleum, a theatre and a pavilion. During the Second World War the palace was badly damaged but has since been reconstructed. The palace, its gardens and the buildings in the grounds are major visitor attractions.
We were planning to spend only an hour of so at each venue so we were put off by the high admission price. We walked along the front of the building hopeful at least of getting a view of the gardens which were the feature which had most attracted us. We were delighted to discover that the gardens were open to the public and we had not needed to pay at all.
The most stunning aspect of the place was the solid iced-over lake with couples strolling freely on it – that did make for some classy pictures.
The temperature was still well below freezing so it was no surprises that the river running alongside was a mere trickle between ice flows from both sides.
From there we rejoined the underground and travelled back across Berlin to the area close to where we had finished our walk the previous day. We found our way to our objective, the Jewish Museum, without any problems and noted that we were well on the way back to Check Point Charlie but from the other side compared to yesterday’s approach.
We had found from reading several guides that this is a “must-see”. Wikipedia says:
The Jewish Museum Berlin (Jüdisches Museum Berlin), in Berlin, Germany, covers two millennia of German Jewish history. It consists of two buildings. One is the old Kollegienhaus, a former courthouse, built in the 18th century. The other, a new addition specifically built for the museum, designed by world-renowned architect Daniel Libeskind. This was one of the first buildings in Berlin designed after German reunification. The museum opened to the public in 2001.
It is impossible to appreciate the design of the modern part of the structure from inside – perhaps an expensive ride in the tethered balloon would have shown the design much better than we could understand from inside.
The museum adjoins the old Berlin Museum and sits on land that was West Berlin before the Berlin Wall fell. The Museum itself, consisting of about 161,000 square feet (15,000 square meters), is a twisted zig-zag and is accessible only via an underground passage from the Berlin Museum's baroque wing. Its shape is reminiscent of a warped Star of David. A "Void," an empty space about 66 feet (20 m) tall, slices linearly through the entire building. Menashe Kadishman's Shalechet (Fallen leaves) installation fills the void with 10,000 coarse iron faces. An irregular matrix of windows cuts in all orientations across the building's facade. A thin layer of zinc coats the building's exterior, which will oxidize and turn bluish as it weathers.
A second underground tunnel connects the Museum proper to the E.T.A. Hoffmann Garden, or The Garden of Exile, whose foundation is tilted. The Garden's oleaster grows out of reach, atop 49 tall pillars.
The final underground tunnel leads from the Museum to the Holocaust Tower, a 79 foot (24 m) tall empty silo. The bare concrete Tower is neither heated nor cooled, and its only light comes from a small slit in its roof.
Similar to Libeskind’s first building, the Felix Nussbaum Haus, the museum consists of three spaces. All three of the underground tunnels, or "axes," intersect and may represent the connection between the three realities of Jewish life in Germany, as symbolized by each of the three spaces: Continuity with German history, Emigration from Germany, and the Holocaust.
When I say that we were unable to appreciate the design I have to be honest and say that we couldn’t figure out what the building would look like from above but also it made no real impression on us emotionally – it seemed pretentious and there was only a sparse display of artifacts in the new part.
However Preston’s description of the derivation of the “Fallen Leaves” was haunting, he said that it was a floor covered in layers of iron faces of different sizes to recreate the early mass executions of Jews who were made to lie down in mass graves before they were shot. You are permitted to walk on the “leaves” but I felt uneasy watching kids pick up the faces to be photographed by their doting parents trying to copy the expressions!
Having felt less than impressed overall we found ourselves back in the older part of the museum which was, in contrast, fairly traditional but packed with interest to both of us. In a museum Julia will usually read every word of every label whereas I tend to travel faster but we absorb different things and often, in later conversation, discover things that we had missed.
Having returned from Berlin and looked up some of the places that we visited I must take exception to the statement above, “Its shape is reminiscent of a warped Star of David” the only set of circumstances which I can offer to support this is if you took a star, separated its various parts and then glued them roughly end to end, its shape is reminiscent of a crooked line, but who am I to judge.
Our travels next took us to the Check Point Charlie Museum, which had, we were told, good exhibits on some of the many escapes to the west from the east. We were a little put off by the prices charged and were just deciding if we had the time to do the place, and outlay, justice when we met up with the young couple from the previous day. We asked if it was worth the admission price but they couldn’t help us as they were just going in. We glanced at each other and decided that we could not inflict ourselves on these good people for another few hours so we decided to retreat back to the hotel.
That evening we returned to the first night’s restaurant and again enjoyed an excellent meal and hospitality before again enjoying a beer in the warm lounge of the hotel.

Berlin Blog –Tuesday 22nd Feb 2011- Best of Berlin Walking Tour

2011-03-09T14:18:00.000-08:00

Julia as usual had done the internet research for this visit and she was now determined that we would see Berlin best on a walking tour. There was one which set off from one of the nearer underground railway stations but she preferred Brewers Tours, which had been set up by Terry Brewer who started his tours as a member of the British occupying forces showing round visitors as part of the post war settlement. The deciding factor was simply if the nearest underground station sold the 48 hour ticket we wanted we would take the train from there and join the Brewers Best of Berlin walking tour.
We enjoyed our buffet breakfast in the hotel despite firstly losing our table to another group of guests who failed to notice our registration card on the table and simply moved in on it, and secondly, our enforced move placed us next to a German family from Hell, neither child was capable of sitting quietly and father was determined to ignore them and the mother despite their excesses. When they, the children, decided to drum on their table with their room keys mercifully mother allowed them to leave their table as she continued her sulk based, I believe, on her partner’s lack of support or interest in her plans for their day.
At this point we added another condition to our plans, if this family showed up at either of our options we would take the other.
We found that we were able to buy the 48 hour tickets at the first station we came to and for 16 Euros each we were able to take unlimited journeys on the underground and/or bus system. The Underground proved to be excellent; we arrived a every platform within 5 minutes of the next train and no journey even involving changes took longer than half an hour.
Thus we arrived at Friedrichstrasse station by 10.00am; our instructions were to meet our guide in front of the Bandy Brooks shop at 10:30. It was about now that we realised six hours was going to be a long time in the sustained cold of minus six degrees. Slowly our group gathered there were five Dutch people and a young British couple to join us on the tour. We noted that as it was Tuesday there was also a “Tours with Terry” available and lasting a mere four hours. Our guide arrived promptly and introduced himself as Preston, he was too tall to easily misplace and we realised early in our acquaintance that he was America; it later transpired he was from Oregon.
After a brief wait for further walkers we set off. Our first stop was to be the New Synagogue but on the way there we stopped into two hostels with a view to picking up others wanting the tour. No business resulted from these stops but Preston had his thermos topped up with coffee to equip him for a long day walking and talking.
We duly arrived at the New Synagogue and met Terry who was accompanied by another three walkers. We gave him the five Dutch people while in return we received on Australian young lady making our party six in total including our guide.
While Terry negotiated where his party wanted to go, his tours are bespoke in that the guests tell him the sort of things they want to see and he devises a tour to suit, we were able to set off. In the weak sunshine Preston told us that we would hear two repeating themes in his commentary, destroyed or severely damaged by the RAF and not repaired by the East Germans. Our entire group were representatives of the allied side in WW2 but I felt no inclination to apologise for the damage done by our air forces.
Sadly Julia’s mother lost her brother early in the war and he flew in the RAF, Julia’s Uncle Albert was shot down over Holland as a crew member of a Wellington bomber and spent a tough war in various POW camps.
It was notable that the Synagogue still had an armed police guard outside, when Julia asked about this Preston replied that it is still Germany so the authorities take no chances.
Another recurring theme which cropped up in various contexts is that Berlin as a city is flat broke, not rubbing along with no savings but 600 Billion Euros in debt. We stopped and viewed a large industrial building with a painted sign on it, “How long is Now?” this is rented by an artists’ commune but owned by a bank which wanted the artists out but then went bust itself so the community continues on borrowed time in a building which still displays bomb damage – see recurring themes one and two!
We cut through some attractive tenements which are now very desirable but when built they were vertical slums each apartment housed at least two families and two floors shared one toilet on a landing midway between the levels. When there were protests about the under-provision of these facilities the city government answered by calculating that since men would be at work and children at school the toilets were only required to cope with the women of the families and at an average of four minutes a visit there was in fact over capacity. Despite this there was rampant disease and considerable civil unrest.
Around this part of the journey we paused to look at a typical East Berlin Bar, which was close to where Preston had lived for a period. Another regular at the bar was the Finance Minister who lived in one of the apartments in the same block. The bar has gone downhill recently but it had been excellent previously and Preston often invited members of his tour to join him for an evening meal there despite the fact that none of the staff spoke any English. On one occasion after ordering for his guests he went to the bathroom, and while away the food orders arrived but were not what anyone had ordered. On his return he found the government minister patiently translating the conversation between the staff and tourists.
We next came to Museum Island, Preston noted that Berliners tend to name their locations very literally and thus an island with five museums on it is Museum Island. Before we got past the first museum he pointed out a sign under the bridge visible to the river traffic which indicated that there was some WW2 ordinance on the riverbed at that point. Berliners are very blasé about such things, there was a recent account of a man who found a grenade in a park and, concerned that it might be disturbed by children and go off, he packed it into his briefcase and crossed the city by underground train to hand it in at a police station.
Outside of the first museum Preston explained that it was originally named “The Museum” until another museum opened and it then had its name changed to “The Old Museum”.
Outside of the museum there is a huge marble bowl balanced on marble blocks, during the war it was moved to avoid damage by the bombing but when the East Germans decided to replace it after the war they dropped it and split it into two parts which they roughly glued together.
We took a bathroom break in one of the museums; Preston has deep-seated objections to paying for the bathroom and offers his group the chance to stop wherever there are free facilities.
We exited onto Unter den Lindern which again displays the basic naming technique the road is under the Lindern trees so that’s the name sorted!
We passed the site of the book-burnings early in the National Socialist period, Bebelplatz opposite the Humboldt University administration building. The square was formerly known as Opernplatz and was the site of the book burning rites by the Nazi youth groups in 1933 where about thousands of books by prominent German authors were set on fire.
This brought us to the Brandenburg Gate; there was a protesting group of Libyans and, incongruously, a guy in a bear suit and a couple dressed as Soviet soldiers for tourists to take photos with.
The Berlin wall has gone in the Brandenburg Gate area but its location is shown by a seam of cobbles set into the ground. Interestingly at the Brandenburg Gate the wall arced back in a semi circle perhaps to allow photo-opportunities from both sides of the gate.
We had instructions to buy a Russian doll from an old lady at the Brandenburg gate but no such lady was available but we did complete our mission later at Checkpoint Charlie.
Crossing the “wall” we arrived at the Reichstag, the fire at which gave the National Socialists an excuse to seize further powers.
To quote Wikipedia:
The Reichstag fire was an arson attack on the Reichstag building in Berlin on 27 February 1933. The event is seen as pivotal in the establishment of Nazi Germany.
At 21:25), a Berlin fire station received an alarm call that the Reichstag building, the assembly location of the German Parliament, was ablaze. The fire started in the Session Chamber, and, by the time the police and firefighters had arrived, the main Chamber of Deputies was engulfed in flames.
Inside the building, a thorough search conducted by the police resulted in the finding of Marinus van der Lubbe. Van der Lubbe was a Dutch insurrectionist, council communist, and unemployed bricklayer who had recently arrived in Germany, ostensibly to carry out his political activities. The fire was used as evidence by the Nazis that the Communists were beginning a plot against the German government. Van der Lubbe and four Communist leaders were subsequently arrested. Adolf Hitler, who had been sworn in as Chancellor of Germany four weeks before, on 30 January, urged President Paul von Hindenburg to pass an emergency decree to counter the "ruthless confrontation of the Communist Party of Germany". With civil liberties suspended, the government instituted mass arrests of Communists, including all of the Communist parliamentary delegates. With them gone and their seats empty, the Nazis went from being a plurality party to the majority; subsequent elections confirmed this position and thus allowed Hitler to consolidate his power.
Meanwhile, investigation of the Reichstag fire continued, with the Nazis eager to uncover Comintern complicity. In early March 1933, three men were arrested who were to play pivotal roles during the Leipzig Trial, known also as the "Reichstag Fire Trial": Bulgarians Georgi Dimitrov, Vasil Tanev and Blagoi Popov. The Bulgarians were known to the Prussian police as senior Comintern operatives, but the police had no idea how senior they were; Dimitrov was head of all Comintern operations in Western Europe.
Historians disagree as to whether Van der Lubbe acted alone or whether the arson was planned and ordered by the Communists or by the Nazis, then dominant in the government themselves, as a false flag operation. The responsibility for the Reichstag fire remains an ongoing topic of debate and research.
Preston told us while outside the Reichstag that Hitler had been completely single-minded in his pursuit of power and, because mass media was only in its infancy, he was able to tell everyone what they wanted to hear. When speaking to farmers he was happy to promise them higher food prices while in cities he supported reductions of the food price.
Having gained power he was ruthless in hanging onto it and at the front of the Reichstag is a small memorial to the 96 mainly centrist or left-wing members of the German Parliament who were persecuted - and in many cases murdered - after the National Socialist Party's rise to power in 1933.
What isn’t in doubt is that Hitler hated the Reichstag but he still ordered his depleted army to fight to the last man over it. While Stalin ordered his troops to have the Red Flag flying over it by May 1945 so two madmen conspired together to have 6000, 3000 on each side, die for a useless building.
After the Reichstag we had a break for dinner back at the concourse of the Friedrichstrasse station where there was a wide choice of fast food and cover from the cold. Julia and I were joined by the young couple from London in a bakery where we had a good hot chocolate and a pastry. We learned that the young couple were teaching assistants on their half term break from a school in London ironically rebuilt after bomb damage during the war.
We noted that by this time Preston had not collected any money from us and if we four absconded at that point he would have only 12 Euros to show for his day. Fortunately for Preston we were far too honest, and the tour was too interesting for us to escape.
We met up with him on time and he remembered to collect his 12 Euros per head so our chance of exploiting his good nature was gone. He was still only paid 60 Euros for over six hours work and he seemed quite philosophical about this as in better times he would have groups of fifteen or so.
Shortly after lunch we reached the huge Luftwaffe building which occupied a whole city block but miraculously survived with little or no damage despite it being an obvious military target throughout all the war opposite the building on land which had been totally cleared by the bombing were two commercial enterprises. One is a static balloon which for more Euros than we would have paid lifts you to a height above the city which commands a brilliant view. The other is more controversial because it rents out Trabant cars; the mass produced vehicle of the communist state of East Germany. The vehicle in itself should not have been popular had there been any alternatives but since there was no competition they were sought after and there was a 10 – 15 year waiting list to purchase these. Currently there is controversy regarding their rental because they are specifically exempted from government regulations regarding emissions while Germany has the strictest rules for all other vehicles. We saw several of the cars in museums and as many on the road, apparently they are a nightmare to drive and, since their body work is only 35% metal, they crumple on impact with anything more substantial than a pigeon. They remain an iconic part of the East Berlin Heritage.
We had been introduced to another East German icon at the Story of Berlin, but Preston was able to elaborate on the story. The Green and Red men on pedestrian crossings were jauntily equipped with hats, when the Wall came down and, in due course, Germany was reunified these lights were replaced as they broke down with the basic figure common to the rest of Europe. The outcry which resulted touched a nerve with the Berliners and factories were set up to produce the “hatted” men again, along the way they became the iconic souvenir of Berlin, in every form you can imagine from bottle openers to sweatshirts. Sadly, although the designer of the men was still alive and had documentation to prove his provenance, he had not registered his copyright and someone else did making them the recipient of all royalties accruing. It seems ironic that the fight for capitalism had produced such a sad casualty.
Incidentally, there was a period when you could have known whether you were in East or West Berlin just by looking at the pedestrian lights but now broken lights are mended with whichever lights come to hand so no such division survives.
Our next major point of interest was the Monument to the Murdered Jews of Europe. We had no idea what to expect so we came upon it uninformed. It consists of a 19,000 square meter site, which occupies an entire city block, covered with 2,711 concrete slabs or "stelae", arranged in a grid pattern on a sloping field. The stelae are 2.38m (7.8') long, 0.95m (3' 1.5") wide and vary in height from 0.2 m to 4.8m (8" to 15'9").
Preston suggested that we separately make our way through the area and gather on the other side of it where we could go inside a coffee bar and he could there explain the monument and the next few sites of interest. I found the walk through the blocks quite moving.
When we were in the warm of the coffee house we gathered round to hear some of the most interesting content of the day.
First he dealt with the Monument to the Murdered Jews of Europe; it was conceived and built in controversy. It had not pleased everyone that the venture was allowed to take up an entire city block. It was criticised for not clearly being a monument of any kind, resulting in families picnicking on the larger blocks and youngsters jumping from block to block. It was criticised for singling out the Jews as victims of the holocaust, the Jewish community were somewhat uneasy about this and offered to dedicate the monument to all victims. However the greatest challenge to the monument was that as an obvious target for graffiti the blocks were impregnated with a chemical which rendered any paint removable by washing, as Preston said, the firm who produced the chemical had been around for a long time and during the war had produced Zyklon B the killer gas used in the extermination camps! We were speechless but the monument remains and under it is a Jewish education centre which is probably worth a visit.
Next, with ill-concealed distaste, Preston described Hitler’s final days in his bunker. Apparently Hitler cowered underground eating chocolate cake by the plateful while 12 year old German children were armed and thrust into merciless street fighting against the rampant Red Army. Before the Soviet army could capture the bunker Hitler committed suicide along with his newly wed bride Eva, and their bodies were placed in a pit and burned with a large amount of petrol. When the Russians overran the area they destroyed much of the bunker with explosives and now there is no visible evidence of its existence, as much as anything to avoid the development of the site of the bunker evolving into a Neo-Nazi shrine.
Finally Preston outlined the history of the divided Berlin and its Wall from the end of the war to its final reunification in 1989. I fully intend to research this history for myself and Blog about it separately so I will finish this entry in brief in order to post it today.
We left the warmth of the coffee shop and came upon the truly unremarkable plot which covers any remainder of Hitler’s Bunker.
We next came upon a remaining standing section of the Berlin Wall and followed it to a reconstruction of Checkpoint Charlie. We learned more than I intend to list here but we did take some photos in the failing light before moving on.
After walking through Underground stations and Department stores to avoid the cold we finished our tour in Gendarmemarkt, one of the most attractive squares in Berlin.
We found an Underground station nearby and returned to the hotel smoothly. After warming up thoroughly in the hotel we walked to the nearest restaurant, the Spanish one, and enjoyed another very reasonable and enjoyable meal.
We again had a beer before bed and thus finished one of my most interesting days ever.

Berlin Blog – Monday 21st Feb 2011

2011-02-28T13:16:00.000-08:00

Despite Julia’s resolution to never get up while it is still dark we needed to on this occasion. We woke early, 6.00am, and were out of the house by 6.30. We drove to the East Midlands Airport by just after 7.00am and were surprised to find the roads busy all the way. We checked in our hold bag which I had weighed to be 14.5kg just under the 15kg allowance that we had paid for; I was annoyed to note that the check in scales read out at 15.5 but they did not charge us excess baggage on this evidence.
We went through to air-side and found ourselves the British travellers’ breakfast; a bacon sandwich and a mug of tea, neither was great but they served to start our day. I cannot happily accept that tea is served in a paper cup even when the drinker is in a totally secured area and the price charged for the tea would cover the cost of a mug even if there was any reasonable expectation that it could be stolen!
For the first time in my memory we found ourselves on a flight which was not fully booked, I was able to get my hand luggage, 10kg, into an overhead locker and the row of three seats we were in only held us two.
Our arrival in Berlin was smooth, there is very little hold baggage on Ryan Air flights and they insist on a 25 minute turn-round so the luggage appears quickly.
Having grabbed our wheeled bag off the turntable we emerged from the arrivals area and, having paid for a transfer, we were pleased to see a driver with a sign bearing the name Booth and two others. We were placed in a waiting area and two other couples joined us before we were escorted to a minibus and the driver placed us carefully in seats. We were the last in and the first out so it was only about half an hour before we were registering in the Hotel Castor. Over the next few days we were increasingly impressed by the hotel, its staff were all friendly and efficient without being in any way overpowering.
Having unpacked we set off into the nearest shopping area of Berlin, Kurfurstenstrasse, it was easy walking but throughout the stay the temperature never made it into positive numbers and minus five degrees chills the bones.
Julia, a famous reader of maps, was on the hunt for a famous church in the area, Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche. We followed the map and the directions but despite thinking we were in about the right area we couldn’t spot the tall spire which was in all the illustrations in our guide books. About this time we recognised that the hexagonal building on our map was right opposite to us and supposedly next door to the church, we then realised that the church was there but surrounded by scaffolding and sheeting. We decided to follow signs for the “Story of Berlin” assuming it to be a cinema presentation which would at least take us out of the cold. We arrived at the “Story of Berlin” to find that it is a museum but it still took us out of the cold and it proved to be a great introduction to the history and development of the city. We also got our first sighting of the Berlin Wall, three preserved panels which were decorated with graffiti and dominated the first gallery of the museum. My recall of the exhibits is sketchy but we were impressed and spent a couple of enjoyable hours while getting some grasp of the city we would tackle over the next two days. We timed our tour of the museum badly as we emerged from it at 4.15 and the tours of the underground nuclear shelter were on the hour so we missed out on that treat.
As we returned towards the hotel we stopped off at the church and upon entering the older part things made more sense than they had from outside.
We learned that the original church on the site was built in the 1890s. It was badly damaged in a bombing raid in 1943. The present building, which consists of a church with an attached foyer and a separate belfry with an attached chapel, was built between 1959 and 1963. The damaged spire of the old church has been retained and its ground floor has been made into a memorial hall. After looking at and reading about the various parts of the memorial exhibition we went into the modern church. All round the church the walls are made of a concrete honeycomb containing 21,292 stained glass inlays and opposite the entrance, is a figure of Christ which is suspended above the altar. It is a very impressive space and with its huge organ playing it must be very deeply moving.
After the church we went into a large and very expensive department store, KaDeWe, on the sixth floor we found a massive food hall where amongst the many bars and specialist stalls we drank a very reasonable, in terms of taste, and less reasonable in price, cup of tea.
We then returned to the hotel and went out to eat close by as there was no restaurant in the hotel other than for breakfast. There was a choice of Spanish, Indian and Italian restaurants in a two block area – we chose the Italian and were very impressed. Julia had a mixed grill while I had salmon pasta with lobster sauce. We shared a dessert and while I had a large beer Julia had an almost equally large red wine. The waiter brought bread with a garlic dip before the mail courses arrived and after he insisted on us drinking flaming Sambuca. After all of this we were please to pass over 35 Euros which included a reasonable tip.
Walking back to the hotel I got the impression that it was not the most select area in town but it felt quite friendly and we were soon back in the hotel bar. While I deposited our coats in the room Julia was chatting with the barman and setting up two beers as a night cap.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 20: Boston (In search of Cheers).

2010-12-12T06:02:00.000-08:00

We breakfasted and repacked ready to vacate our room. We lodged the baggage with the reception staff and set off towards Boston Common to find the outside location shots of the Cheers bar in the comedy of the same name. Julia’s research told us that the outside shots of Cheers were located on Beacon Street which runs above the common and also has the State house building on it. The extremely popular TV show Cheers was inspired by a neighborhood bar and restaurant in Boston, the former Bull & Finch Pub. The facade of the building was used in the opening sequence of the TV show. The Bull & Finch was eventually re-named Cheers Boston Beacon Hill due to the great notoriety from the TV series. A second location was opened in 2001, Cheers Boston Faneuil Hall, which is a replica of the interior of the bar in the TV show, which we had visited the day before. Inside on the ground floor there is a replica bar and a souvenir shop while in the basement there is another bar. This is as near to finding Cheers as is possible because all the interiors were shot in studio and I can rarely remember the show straying much beyond the bar.
While we had a beer in Cheers Faneuil Hall it was far too early to do the same this morning but we did hear the same “humorous” question asked of the bar staff; “What’s my name?” On the basis that Cheers is a place “Where everyone knows your name”. The long-suffering staff must have got used to a steady diet of this approach but surely they should be allowed to gun down the tenth person to ask in any given day! We took several photos outside the bar and in one of them I look exactly like my father, I blame my bad back, but sadly there are fewer and fewer people to show it to who knew us both.
Our next quest defeated us. We entered the public gardens opposite the bar expecting to find the famous statue of a duck and her ducklings. Make Way for Ducklings is a children's picture book written and illustrated by Robert McCloskey. First published in 1941, the book tells the story of a pair of mallard ducks who decide to raise their family on an island in the lagoon in Boston Public Garden, a park in the center of Boston, Massachusetts. The book's popularity led to the construction of a statue by Nancy Schön in the Public Garden of the mother duck and her eight ducklings, which is a popular destination for children and adults alike, but we couldn’t find it! Later research has confirmed that we were looking in the right park and we walked all the way round the lake in question but no ducks!
We headed back towards the hotel and were amused by the squirrels which have no fear of humans and tolerantly pose for photos as long as required. Between the lake and the Boston Common there are sports fields of various types and here we stumbled on a set of eccentrics who were playing a ball game while riding witch’s brooms –it may have been a Harry Potter themed enterprise but they were firmly land-based – defective brooms? They were also behind quite substantial fencing I think that was for the best.
We returned to the hotel and ventured into Parker’s Bar where we had a beer and a piece of Boston Cream Pie each and enjoyed both before moving on to the airport. While we were in the bar there was a wedding party gathering for a later ceremony in one of their function rooms. On the events board the wedding was listed as being between Paul and Randy so it crossed our minds that it might be a bit liberal for Boston but when the bridegroom, I’m assuming Paul, arrived in Army Dress Uniform, based on “don’t ask, don’t tell” we concluded Randy must be a unisex name.
Meanwhile we asked for our bill in the bar and it was even higher than we had allowed for but in error four beers appeared not the two we had drunk. The mistake was cheerfully corrected.
After some confusion about where our luggage had been stored it eventually appeared. One of the bell staff whistled us up a taxi and we were quickly at the airport.
We were flying overnight and the flight would be extended by the time difference and we had no idea what food would be provided so w ate a final meal in the airport. The food was fine but we were amused by a middle-aged man who sat at the table next to us and ordered a bottle of wine with his meal. The waitress told him she couldn’t serve him with a bottle for one person. At this he pushed the chair opposite him back and said that he was waiting for someone. She stuck to her guns and he had to make do with a glass of wine. Nobody joined him while we were there.
Our flight as smooth and uneventful and we got ourselves back to Derbyshire in time to be involved in a basketball match – normal life was resumed.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 19: Boston (Fenway Park).

2010-12-09T06:30:00.000-08:00

We have enjoyed all our visits to sporting venues in the states but Madison Square Garden stands out amongst our memories because of the knowledgeable and enthusiastic guide. We set off to Fenway Park hoping for the same sort of experience – we were not to be disappointed. We took the subway and after some negotiation we agreed on the station to get off as I recall it was not as obvious as Fenway although we passed through a station of that name. Julia researches our visits in advance and using the lap top she can further check up while we are in place. I recall that we got off the train and followed pedestrian signs to Baseball. However, just as we reached a position where there were four options for us to take, there were no signs at all to help us. We may have looked a bit helpless, or perhaps this was not a new situation, a passing delivery truck stopped by us and the driver gave us directions. His first words were “Are you looking for Fenway Park?”
Our directions took us there in about five minutes, we signed up for a tour that was leaving in about ten minutes and off we went.
Our guide was Morrie, I’ve no idea if that’s how he spells it, he is a rabid Red Sox fan and he gives the impression that he works for free just to be allowed in his idols’ home. On our first stairway he stopped and demanded to know if we had any Yankee fans with us – one family admitted their allegiance to the enemy – but Morrie just said he needed to know in order to speak more slowly for their benefit!
He was an entertaining host. We learnt lots from him but two stories will have to suffice.
From our vantage point he made us look across the ballpark to the opposite bleachers all the seats are green except for one single red seat. To quote Wikipedia:
The lone red seat in the right field bleachers (Section 42, Row 37, Seat 21) signifies the longest home run ever hit at Fenway. The Ted Williams hit was officially measured at 502 feet, the ball, if unobstructed, would have flown 520 to 535 feet.
The ball landed on Joseph A. Boucher, penetrating his large straw hat and hitting him in the head. A confounded Boucher was later quoted as saying, “How far away must one sit to be safe in this park? I didn't even get the ball. They say it bounced a dozen rows higher, but after it hit my head, I was no longer interested. I couldn't see the ball. Nobody could. The sun was right in our eyes. All we could do was duck. I'm glad I did not stand up”.
Morrie’s story is much better he claimed that although Boucher was a Yankees’ fan he was in Boston on business and took in the game, he was dosing in his seat when the ball punched through his straw boater and put him to sleep more fully! When a Boston newspaper reporter got onto the story he interviewed Boucher and discovered that he was now a converted Red Sox fan – the headline read: “Williams hit knocks sense into Yankee fan!”. On a recent anniversary of the event Boucher and his family were invited to attend a match at Fenway Park and they were allocated seats in the red seat area they got into the spirit of the event by all wearing straw boaters!
When we were on the “Green Monster “ he drew our attention to the number 42 in blue alongside several numbers in red. Along with the seven Red Sox who have been honoured by having their number retired there is the 42 representing Jack Roosevelt "Jackie" Robinson (January 31, 1919 – October 24, 1972) was the first black Major League Baseball (MLB) player of the modern era. Robinson broke the baseball color line when he debuted with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. As the first black man to play in the major leagues since the 1880s, he was instrumental in bringing an end to racial segregation in professional baseball, which had relegated black players to the Negro leagues for six decades. The example of his character and unquestionable talent challenged the traditional basis of segregation, which then marked many other aspects of American life, and contributed significantly, to the Civil Rights Movement. In 1997, Major League Baseball retired his uniform number, 42, across all major league teams.
When this happened the number 42 became unavailable to all players except those already wearing it while they stayed at their current club. Wikipedia puts it like this:
A grandfather clause allowed a handful of players who wore number 42 as a salute to Robinson, such as the Mets' Butch Huskey and Boston's Mo Vaughn, were allowed to continue wearing the number for as long as they stayed with their current team and did not change their number. The Yankees' Mariano Rivera is the last player in the major leagues to wear jersey number 42 on a regular basis.
I felt it was a classy thing for a sport to do and very touchingly explained by our guide.
He also pointed out the scoreboard under the Green Monster which is manually operated. Even though there has been an electronic scoreboard above the bleacher seats in center field at Fenway Park for many years, people still look to the base of the Green Monster at the manual scoreboard to keep track of the action on the field and at other parks around the league. This feature was installed in 1934 and it is one of the few remaining manually-operated scoreboards in baseball. During every home game, there are three operators to keep the scoreboard as up-to-date as possible. Green and red lights signal the number of balls, strikes, and outs, 16-inch-square numbers are used to indicate runs and hits, and 12-by-16 inch square numbers are used to show errors, innings, and the number of the current pitcher. In the mid-1970s, when the wall was remodeled, the scoreboard was changed only to show out-of-town American League scores; however, in 2003, the scoreboard was revised to show National League scores as well. Another update in 2005 added a reference to the current standings in the American League East. Also, if you look closely, you will find the initials of former owners Thomas A Yawkey and his wife Jean R. Yawkey written in Morse code. I was amused to learn that some of the National league scores cannot be changed from inside and thus between innings, an operator emerges from a hidden door and using a ladder changes those scores from outside. Morrie claims that you will never see this on televised matches as showing it is banned.
We also learned that Babe Ruth started his career at Boston as a pitcher using the old soft ball and, in fact, that there had been an old soft ball. Also that the Cy Young award is named after the Boston pitcher.
As a side note while on our tour we had watched a documentary on the Red Sox and it said poignantly that when they broke their long barren spell, since 1918, by winning the World Series in 2004 graves in all Boston cemeteries were decorated with Red Sox clothing and score sheets from the series as a tribute to fans that had lived and died without seeing such success.
We followed Morrie’s directions to walk from the ball park to the Prudential Building to take in the view of the city from the Skywalk Observatory. On our way we passed the one of the most impressive locations for a tennis club ever. At 939 Boyleston Street, I have close friends who live in a tiny village called Boylestone in Derbyshire, the club looks like the frontage of an office block or department store. We bravely entered but the Club seems to be in the basement and accessible by a “members only” elevator. Had there been a reception area available to us I would have asked to have a look round using my English accent and tennis background as a passport. Returning to England and looking the place up I discovered that their tennis is Court or Real tennis not my version and perhaps it would all have been too posh for simple Derbyshire folk.
The Prudential Skywalk was excellent, the free auto commentary is brilliant the only down side is that you are always shooting your photos through glass which at times could do with cleaning. I was easy to put the Freedom Trail into context from above and we could also see Fenway Park and our route from there.
We returned to the hotel by subway and enjoyed tea and cookies in our room. We then took a walk out to the Cheers bar close to the Faneuiel Hall, by chance we were both wearing basketball hoodies, Julia’s was Derby Trailblazers, British National Champions of Mens Division One and mine was East Midlands, Under 15 Boys National Champions, coached by Dave Harris a veteran of British Basketball and assisted by Sarah Booth our daughter. We were soon in conversation over a beer with a guy, a river pilot from Washington State, who was visiting Boston. Amusingly he took us to be New Englanders not English, apparently our accents seem similar to the locals. Having overcome this misunderstanding he was very interested in our basketball development and we have his address and email on the basis we must visit in the future.
We returned to the hotel and Julia continued her research into Boston Comedy clubs, thus it was that we set out later to find the Mottleys Comedy Club with a remembered address and no map. Despite poor preparation and a cold drizzle we were still quite upbeat when we located the club in the basement of a bar quite close to Cheers. We then found a cheap but brilliant Mexican restaurant nearby and had a great meal before returning to the bar. The session was not due to start for another half hour so we sat at the bar for another beer, this is very heavy consumption for us, and chatted to a couple who turned out to be baseball fans.
When we saw the show, under the title “Quarter Life Crisis”, we were only mildly amused. Three guys and a girl took their turns at telling us that they were confused about life in general. I took their point because life still confuses me but strangely I’m not confident enough that my confusion equips me to amuse strangers who are paying for the experience!
We returned to the hotel by 10.00pm and everywhere was pretty dead, it seemed much later by the amount, or lack, of activity.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 18: Boston (Freedom Trail).

2010-12-03T15:25:00.000-08:00

In my innocence I did not realise that Omni was a trade name of a set of hotels so I wondered at first what that part of our most expensive hotel’s name meant. Having worked that out by reading in our room I turned my attention to the Parker House Hotel. We had picked it to be one of the most central and historic hotels in Boston – it easily lived up to both. The lobby is immense and furnished to a high standard but giving the impression that nothing has changed in recent times. Research reveals that the PHH has a rich history for which I will quote Wikipedia:
Opened in 1855 by Harvey D. Parker and located on School Street near the corner of Tremont, not far from the seat of the Massachusetts state government, it has long been a rendezvous for politicians. The hotel was home to the Saturday Club, also referred to as the Saturday Night Club, which consisted of literary dignitaries such as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. John Wilkes Booth was also once a guest at the hotel.
The Parker House invented American foods such as Boston cream pie and the Parker House roll, and coined the term "scrod".
The original Parker House and later additions were demolished in the 1920s and replaced with an entirely new building. One wing of the original hotel remained open until the new building was completed in 1927.
As the longest continuously operating hotel in the United States, many well-known people have worked at the Parker House, including Hô Chí Minh who was a baker in the bakeshop from 1911 to 1913, Malcolm X who was a busboy in the early 1940s, and Emeril Lagasse.
John F. Kennedy announced his candidacy for Congress in the hotel's Press Room, proposed to Jackie Kennedy, as well as held his bachelor party here.
We enjoyed the whole experience of the hotel and found the staff at every level most obliging and friendly. Julia bumped into a porter while she was wearing her Brazilian soccer shirt and he was fascinated to discover that although she was not Brazilian but she had been given the shirt by Brazilian friends. He seemed to make a point of looking out for her from then on.
We set off from the hotel to get breakfast, Dunkin Donut again, and then to walk the freedom trail. At the Boston Common we checked out the price of a guided tour with a costumed guide but they were very expensive and only covered the first two thirds of the trail. We felt that our tracking skills, honed by visiting Texas, would see us through as we were merely following a thick red line on the sidewalk.
As our first point of interest we visited the Massachusetts State House, which is the state capitol and seat of government of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. The building houses the Massachusetts General Court and the offices of the Governor of Massachusetts. The most notable feature of the building is the large dome. The original wood dome, which leaked, was covered with copper in 1802 by Paul Revere's company. (Paul Revere, who stars later in this account, was the first American to successfully roll copper into sheets in a commercially viable manner.)
The dome was first painted gray and then light yellow before being gilded with gold leaf in 1874. During WWII, the dome was once again painted, this time black, to prevent reflections during blackouts and to protect the city and building from bombing attacks. In 1997, at a cost of more than $300,000, the dome was re-gilded, in 23k gold. The gold dome means that a president, JFK, came from the state.
The dome is topped with a pine cone, symbolizing the importance of Boston's lumber industry in the early colonial days not, as we thought, a pineapple which could only symbolize our stupidity.
From here we walked towards our hotel to visit Park Street Church, a historic stop on the Freedom Trail. It was founded on February 27, 1809. The church became known as "Brimstone Corner", in part because of the missionary character of its preaching, and in part because of the storage of gunpowder during the War of 1812. Next to the church is the Granary Burying Ground which is the city of Boston's third-oldest cemetery. Located on Tremont Street, it is the final resting place for many notable Revolutionary War-era patriots, including three signers of the Declaration of Independence, Paul Revere and the five victims of the Boston Massacre.
We were of course dealing with some mixed feelings about all the glorification of this rebellion against our lawful control of the colonies but we tried to go with the flow.
Next we reached the Benjamin Franklin statue and former site of the first public school, Boston Latin School which was opposite the side door of our hotel. Several times in the hotel we noticed people breaking their walk on the freedom trail for a drink in the hotel bar, it was either late on the walk and they only had a couple of stops left but if they were travelling in our direction we could see little prospect of them finishing the walk.
On a corner near to the hotel we arrived at The Old South Meeting House (built 1729), in the Downtown Crossing area of Boston, Massachusetts, which gained fame as the organizing point for the Boston Tea Party on December 16, 1773. 5,000 colonists gathered at the Meeting House, the largest building in Boston at the time. Around here we were supposed to observe the old bookshop but it escaped us, there was a huge modern bookshop at this crossroads and we also noted the sculptures there as a monument to the suffering of the Irish in the Potato famine.
The Freedom trail next took us to The Old State House, a historic government building located at the intersection of Washington and State Streets in Boston, Massachusetts, USA. Built in 1713, it is the oldest surviving public building in Boston, and the seat of the first elected legislature in the New World. It is now a history museum operated by the Bostonian Society, a nonprofit whose primary focus is the museum. We moved past but later it was a great evening photograph as it was brilliantly lit against a strong night sky.
Next we came upon the site of the Boston Massacre, also known as the Boston riot, an incident that led to the deaths of five civilians at the hands of British redcoats on March 5, 1770, the legal aftermath of which helped spark the rebellion in some of the British American colonies, which culminated in the American Revolutionary War. A heavy British military presence in Boston led to a tense situation that boiled over into incitement of brawls between soldiers and civilians and eventually led to troops discharging their muskets after being threatened by a rioting crowd. Three civilians were killed at the scene of the shooting, eleven were injured, and two died after the incident. They say history is written by the victors but surely five deaths struggles to be described as a massacre? It hardly ranks with Wounded Knee. The site itself is marked by a metal plaque inset into the middle of a busy road junction.
We then reached Faneuil Hall, located near the waterfront and today's Government Center, in Boston, Massachusetts, has been a marketplace and a meeting hall since 1742. It was the site of several speeches by Samuel Adams, James Otis, and others encouraging independence from Great Britain, and is now part of Boston National Historical Park and a well known stop on the Freedom Trail. It is sometimes referred to as "the Cradle of Liberty". It is an impressive building and we ventured off the Freedom Trail here to seek out one of the Cheers bars, this one had nothing to do with the TV series in terms of production but was a reasonable facsimile of the bar although it is in what amounts to a conservatory. We pressed on without stopping for a drink but we penciled it in for later.
We were now in Boston’s North End district at The Paul Revere House which was the colonial home of American patriot Paul Revere during the time of the American Revolution. Paul Revere was the man selected to ride through the night to raise the colonists in defense of their new just before the battles of Lexington and Concord. His famous "Midnight Ride" occurred on the night of April 18/April 19, 1775, when he and William Dawes were instructed by Dr. Joseph Warren to ride from Boston to Lexington to warn John Hancock and Samuel Adams of the movements of the British Army, which was beginning a march from Boston to Lexington, ostensibly to arrest Hancock and Adams and seize the weapons stores in Concord. Incidentally the idea that he cried “The British are coming!” cannot be correct as the colonists thought of themselves as the British. My recent reading tells me Revere was a silver smith and he is credited with having made a carving knife passed down through Bartlett family in the “West Wing” TV series but perhaps as fictional as that is my belief that he was a dentist who made George Washington’s wooden false teeth?
Close to Revere’s house we came to Old North Church which is the location from which the famous lantern "One if by land, and two if by sea" signal is said to have been sent, again this is incorrect as the British soldiers were coming from the river not the sea. From here we quickly reached the Copp's Hill Burying Ground. It is the second oldest cemetery in Boston It contains the remains of various notable Bostonians from the colonial era.
On the Snow Hill Street side are the many unmarked graves of the African Americans who lived in the "New Guinea" community at the foot of the hill. In addition to the graves there are 272 tombs, most of which bear inscriptions that are still legible. Amongst these well marked headstones there is one of an activist who died before the War of Independence and this is chipped and pitted by musket balls from the Red Coats practising their aim on him.
We now crossed the river over a bridge next to the new home of the Boston Celtics, Julia did not enjoy the crossing as the path was metal mesh and the river moved clearly below it, I was struggling to walk upright due to my back but we were determined to finish the trail. Many times since my nephews did their 65 miles in a day charity walk we have drawn inspiration from their effort and we refused to give in.
Over the river are two final stages of the trail. First we followed the line to the naval dockyards housing USS Constitution. She is a wooden-hulled, three-masted heavy frigate of the United States Navy. Named by President George Washington after the Constitution of the United States of America, she is the world's oldest floating commissioned naval vessel. Launched in 1797, Constitution was one of six original frigates authorized for construction by the Naval Act of 1794. Constitution is most famous for her actions during the War of 1812 against Great Britain, when she captured numerous merchant ships and defeated five British warships: HMS Guerriere, Java, Pictou, Cyane and Levant. The battle with Guerriere earned her the nickname of "Old Ironsides" and public adoration that has repeatedly saved her from scrapping. As a fully commissioned US Navy ship, her crew of 60 officers and sailors participate in ceremonies, and we were given a free guided tour by a Naval Aviator. He was at pains to point out that her unique claim to fame lay in her being both commissioned and afloat as there are older vessels but none that fulfill both these conditions. He also pointed out that with a something and zero record the Constitution had easily the best record in Boston versus any of the sporting franchises. We were shown below decks and it was pointed out to us that the entire gun-deck was cleared for action including dismantling the captain’s cabin to allow the ship to fight effectively. Although much bigger than the Mayflower it still seemed small to cope with oceans and the thought of fighting other ships of similar sizes using gunpowder and steel make anyone think it must have been hellish. Incidentally I remember strange snippets of information at times and the one I recall is that the ships youngest crew members were between 12 and 15 but they had two of the most dangerous jobs in battle. The powder magazines had small hatches to minimize the fire risk so these boys carried gunpowder to the gunners and those who were not doing that carried messages between the ship’s officers and were therefore preferred targets for the enemy snipers. We also enjoyed the “Old Ironsides” museum on the base but then we set off for our final landmark.
We found our way to the Bunker Hill Monument was built to commemorate the Battle of Bunker Hill. The 221 foot granite obelisk was erected between 1827 and 1843 in Charlestown, Massachusetts with granite from Quincy, Massachusetts, conveyed to the site via the Granite Railway, built specially for that purpose, followed by a trip by barge. There are 294 steps to the top. The Bunker Hill Monument is not on Bunker Hill but instead on Breed's Hill, where most of the fighting in the misnamed Battle of Bunker Hill actually took place. The Monument Association, which had purchased the battlefield site, was forced to sell off all but the hill's summit in order to complete the monument. Like many notable battles the winning side didn’t get the glory, although the British troops drove the colonists under William Prescott, who is credited with the “Don’t fire until you can see the whites of their eyes” line, from their positions on Breeds Hill they suffered such casualties that it was remarked by the colonists that they were happy to sell hills at that price to the enemy.
We found our way back to the hotel by underground and later after icing my back we walked round the block to another pub and had another excellent bar meal. There was American football on the TV and I fear I made a fool of myself trying to explain the game to Julia when I have only the most rudimentary grasp of its rules but we enjoyed the spectacle.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 17: Hyannis to Boston via Plymouth.

2010-12-02T12:56:00.000-08:00

We set off early intending to pick up breakfast on the way out of Hyannis, after two false starts at local delis we were again at a Dunkin Donuts but this time they got the order correct. We needed an early start because we wanted to use our last day with the car to visit the Plimouth Plantation and Plymouth Rock.
We arrived at the Plimouth plantation, which is a replica of the first settlement which has been overtaken by the development of the town of Plymouth. The spelling Plimouth is to recognise the original spelling and to distinguish between the two places.
We arrived at the plantation and paid for tickets which gave us access to the plantation and Mayflower II which is docked in Plymouth.
We watched a short video before setting off into the plantation, partly to get our historic bearings but also to avoid the party of school kids who arrived at about the same time as us. The video told us that there were two major parts to the plantation. The first we would come to was the Native American, Wampanoag, village, which represented the traditional ways and life-style of the Wampanoag. It is staffed by modern Native People from a variety of nations (not in period character, but in traditional dress) who explain and demonstrate how the Wampanoag's ancestors lived and interacted with the settlers but also answer questions regarding their modern lives. We would then progress to the largest open-air section of the museum which is called the 1627 English Village, and it approximates the assumed layout of the original settlement, which is generally accepted to have been built 2.5 miles to the northwest, along today's Leyden Street and Burial Hill. This area is staffed by actors who have the characters and vocabulary of the original settlers.
The video and notices on the way to the Wampanoag village urged us to be respectful of the Native American heritage and suggesting that we did not greet them with “How” or call anyone “Chief”, it struck us as significant but depressing that these warnings were needed.
At the village we saw Native Americans making canoes, drying pelts of animals and cooking food. It was incongruous to get modern answers from them, and the school children asked some very interesting questions. While we were in this area it was also strange to see a party of Amish visitors doing exactly what we were doing. We also wondered how they had travelled there as there were no horse-drawn carriages in the car park.
We moved on through brilliant scenery alongside a lake and then up a hill to arrive at the plantation. Here it really felt like a step back in time despite the appallingly behaved school kids. If you asked one of the inhabitants a question they answered in old English dialect but, more impressively, they only answered within the limits of the understanding of the times they represented.
Someone asked, “Did you come over on the original Mayflower?”
He replied, “Aye, that was the name of the ship but I warrant there have been many ships of that name.”
We saw men thatching a building and others tending to animals but the most impressive character was a gentlewoman who told us that she had come to the New World because she had four daughters and in the normal course of events there was no prospect of producing a dowry for all four thus leaving two or three unmarried. The voyage to America had been a calculated gamble and she was aggrieved that having landed in New England rather than Virginia where they held title to lands, they were being charged extra money for every improvement they brought to the village. She also replied that the furniture in her house was English brought from her home but she had sold four times as much to raise the money for the voyage and provisions. She was upset that an entire bedroom’s furnishings had been spent on a musket and ammunition which they would have had no use for in England.
All through the village the school children ran wild, it must have annoyed the actors but in their characters they would have found it impossible to believe! Then we reached the church/strongpoint which doubled as a place of worship and the redoubt where the villagers would have retreated to in the event of being overrun by the Native Americans. On the upper storey of the building canons from the ship had been run out through gaps in the walls, here I watched a kid climb along the barrel to hang outside. He returned in his own time and nobody seemed concerned.
We decided to move on to Plymouth Rock. We parked on the sea front and walked back towards the Rock and Mayflower II. One was much more impressive than the other. To quote the web:
Visiting Mayflower II is an extraordinary experience. The details of the ship, from the solid oak timbers and tarred hemp rigging, to the wood and horn lanterns and hand-colored maps, have all been carefully recreated to give you a sense of what the original 17th-century vessel was like. Come aboard and learn about the 1620 voyage of the Mayflower, the perils of maritime travel, and the tools of 17th-century navigation. Explore the cramped quarters of the ship's passengers. Peer down into the lower level "hold," where the food, clothing, furniture, tools and other items necessary to start a colony were stored. Admire the "spacious" Master's cabin, and compare it to the wet and windy accommodations of the common sailors. You will also hear the tale of a modern Englishman's dream to build and sail Mayflower II as a symbol of American and British unity after WWII.
Mayflower II has many stories to tell and many people to tell them. You will meet staff in modern-day clothing who speak from a present-day perspective. They can talk with you about the original Mayflower as well as the reproduction vessel Mayflower II. Along side are reproductions of a 17th-century shallop and a ship's boat. On board, you may also meet role players in period costume who will share their personal accounts of shipboard life, playing the part of Mayflower passengers (popularly known as the “Pilgrims”) or sailors.
We have to agree with the above it was remarkable. Before we got onboard we learned about the Mayflower II, which is a replica of the 17th century Mayflower, celebrated for transporting the Pilgrims to the New World. The replica was built in Devon, England, during 1955–1956, in a collaboration between Englishman Warwick Charlton and Plimouth Plantation, combining the American museum's ship blueprints with construction by old traditional methods of English shipbuilders. On April 20, 1957, recreating the original voyage, Mayflower II was sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, under the command of Alan Villiers. The ship is seaworthy and sailed to Providence, Rhode Island in 2002. We noted that within a few details (electric lights added and ladder replaced with a lower-deck staircase), the ship is considered a faithful replica, with solid oak timbers, tarred hemp rigging, and hand-coloured maps, but the British Coast Guard insisted on a wheel being fitted to steer the ship rather than the arrangement which had served well for the first Mayflower.
Onboard we met the only in-character actor; he played the part of one of two master mariners employed on the voyage. He was bitter about the poor decisions taken by the company. Having set off twice at suitable times the Mayflower had turned back due to problems with the ship, they set off for the third time too late in the year. If they had set sail in summer it would have taken about six weeks to cross the Atlantic but travelling later meant a rougher voyage which took nine and a half weeks. Having arrived so late, it was harder to build a settlement and the during the winter the passengers remained on board the Mayflower, suffering an outbreak of a contagious disease described as a mixture of scurvy, pneumonia and tuberculosis. When it ended, there were only 53 passengers, just more than half, still alive. Likewise, half of the crew died as well. In spring, they built huts ashore, and in March 1621, the surviving passengers left the Mayflower. On April 15, 1621, the Mayflower set sail from Plymouth to return to England, where she arrived in May 1621.
Ironically there was nothing special to recognise about the Mayflower so it was not preserved, in fact in 1623, a year after the death of Captain Christopher Jones, the Mayflower was most likely dismantled for scrap lumber in Rotherhithe, London.
We enjoyed the Mayflower II but I had always assumed that Plymouth Rock referred to an area or a significant rocky outcrop used for navigation, instead we found it to be, well, a rock and putting it in a temple-like setting still made it a rock!
We made tracks towards Boston, the SatNav got confused when we were very close to our hotel but the Mark One Eyeball spotted our route and we were soon parked outside the Omni Parker House. We were very impressed by the OPH but I will leave that for the next chapter. We were able to check in and take our baggage to our room before setting off to return the car to the Hertz Rental Centre.
I am always impressed by the slickness of car hire and return these days, a quick scan of the car and a signature on our paperwork and we were free to go. We took the shuttle towards the airport and alighted at the underground station and were quickly back to the hotel.
We found ourselves very comfortable in the hotel and only ventured out later to eat, the hotel prices were such that we couldn’t even consider eating there. Within two blocks we found the Beantown Pub and we enjoyed a reasonable and filling meal.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 16: Hyannis & Provincetown

2010-12-01T09:18:00.000-08:00

We breakfasted in the hotel and this was a mistake, we got up later than we had planned and went into breakfast near to the time that they would have closed. Rather than disappoint us they served us but the buffet was past its best and they were already laying out the room for an evening function.
While writing about the hotel I might as well add a few general comments, it was I feel the weakest performer in our list of hotels, the free WiFi did not extend to our room and the patio doors onto the car park were “secured” by an ad hoc piece of metal which could have been unbalanced by a determined squirrel let alone a human trying to gain entrance from outside. Neither of these things was significant as it turned out but the fact that we were often in the lobby using the WiFi there meant that we observed other failings of the hotel. On the first evening a coach party arrived. One couple placed their luggage successfully in their room and went out of the room only to find on their return that their key no longer worked and the hotel staff was unable to let them in. This meant that the same lady was sitting in the same place in the lobby when we set off for dinner as she was when we returned. Getting ahead of myself, the following evening one of two coach parties which had stayed the previous night returned as planned only to find they had been checked out rather than the other party which was not returning. The problem was not helped by the fact that the returning guests had been allowed to leave their baggage in their rooms but now couldn’t get in. It took a considerable time to get this sorted while the social event was building up in the restaurant area and some of those guests were being assigned the rooms which were already occupied.
Meanwhile back to us in the morning, we drove out of Hyannis towards Provincetown where the pilgrims had first anchored. We had decided to check out Provincetown at least in part because of this article:
Provincetown History Page
Provincetown is without a doubt the most eclectic of all Cape Cod towns.
How did it get this way? Is it because the Pilgrims who landed first in Provincetown decided the place wasn't for them so they sailed across the bay to found Plimouth?
Possibly, because as soon it was abandoned by the sober colonists it apparently became a port of call for the less upstanding of those who plied the oceans during the 1600s. According to Donald Wood's "Cape Cod - A Guide," the sand dunes of what was then called Cape Cod (what we now call Provincetown) sheltered "a wild, undisciplined and unprincipled crew of traders and fishermen from nearly all parts of Europe. Drinking, gambling and bacchanalian carousals were continued sometimes for weeks with unrestrained license." As settlers moved down the Cape from Sandwich and Barnstable and Yarmouth towards the tip, the town of Truro was incorporated in 1709 and the sandy hook known as Cape Cod and its big harbor was included. But this didn't stop the activities of the smugglers and the privateers who frequented the wild area. Finally, more English settlers arrived, the wilder elements were somewhat tamed, and Provincetown was incorporated in 1727. As a town, it then declined until the end of the French and Indian Wars when deepwater whaling became an industry. Provincetown's great harbor came alive. By the War of 1812 Provincetown had a thousand residents. During the war these residents remained neutral and after the war, as whaling activities grew, whaling captains, replenishing their crews in the Cape Verdes and Azores brought Portugese to Provincetown. As the whaling phased out, Provincetown became a center for the Portugese fishermen whose descendents are part of the backbone of Provincetown's economy today.
While fishing continues to represent a major part of life in Provincetown, today there is another side to Provincetown, which began at the turn of the 20th century when Charles Hawthorne established an art school. As an art colony Provincetown flourished and in 1915 when the Provincetown Players was established, it became a mecca for theater. Eugene O'Neill joined the players in 1916. Art, theater and fishing still exist side by side in Provincetown. As do alternative lifestyles.
As a place to visit Provincetown is popular for many reasons. Want to go whale watching? The MacMillan Wharf is the place to start. Want to people watch? The human parade up and down bustling Commercial Street is an endless opportunity to satisfy the urge. Want to climb higher than anywhere else on Cape Cod and then indulge in some history? Climb the Pilgrim Monument, rising 252 feet above the 100 foot hill it sits on. Its cornerstone was laid in 1907 as President Teddy Roosevelt looked on and President Taft attended its dedication in 1910. For all the details and more of Provincetown's history, the excellent Provincetown Museum is at the base of the monument. Exhibits range from memorabilia of Adm. Donald MacMillan's Arctic expeditions to the history of Provincetown-Boston Airlines, the first commuter airline in the country, founded in 1949 by John C. Van Arsdale.
We found parking difficult but that actually helped us as we were forced to drive through the area and from that we got our bearings quite well. We parked outside the town on the coast and took some pleasing photos, looking along the coast, back towards the town, featuring the brightly painted wooden houses on stilts to allow for high tides. We also got our first clear view of the Pilgrim Monument.
We drove back into town and parked in a large lot next to the whaling pier. We investigated the possibility of a whale watching voyage but it would have taken up too much of our visit with no guarantee of seeing whales. My whale expert niece, Kelly, told us we were heading to New England at a poor time for seeing whales and she should know having worked for the Whale Center of New England in Gloucester MA. We enjoyed the pier and the harbour area before setting off to find the Pilgrim Monument. It was hard uphill walking for me as my back was still hurting but we found the base of the monument and paid over our $7 to go up the tower.
The Pilgrim Monument commemorates the history of the Mayflower Pilgrims, their arrival and stay in Provincetown Harbor, and the signing of the Mayflower Compact. It is the tallest all-granite structure in the United States. Visitors can walk to the top on a series of stairs and ramps. During the climb, we saw many interior stones donated by cities, towns, and organizations from all over the United States. The strange thing for us is that these names are almost all English town names which probably reflected home towns of the settlers either before or after the Mayflower. The view from the top is spectacular and we watched the Whale Watching boat leave harbour from the top of the tower.
On our return from the tower we enjoyed the museum which clarified the timeline of the pilgrims including their residence in Holland and their earlier attempts to leave England in pursuit of freedom of religion which did not prevail there at the time.
On our walk back towards the car we noted a plaque on a building commemorating the Ryder Homestead which as part of the “Underground Railway” had sheltered escaping slaves on their way to freedom in Canada, I only hope they were well prepared to deal with the Canadian Immigration Officials!
We also took in the memorial to the Mayflower Compact, which incidentally bears the signatures of the major players amongst the pilgrims amongst them William Bradford who is a relative of Julia’s Headmistress at Rosliston School.
We decided to sample a Lobster Roll having seen them advertised everywhere along the coast, we agreed to share one and I opted for their plainest version, just with butter. The experience was best summed up as an anticlimax; in fact the fresh tasty bread roll was the highlight. It was a $12 disappointment.
On our return towards Hyannis we switched off the SatNav and tried to follow the coastal road with mixed success. We did however find the world’s most deserted beach. We parked in a rest area next to a closed bar/restaurant where we were warned to keep off the dunes and that there was no life guard on duty. We resisted the temptation to frolic on the dunes and swim!
We returned to Hyannis with the assistance of the SatNav.
After tea in our room, you should be familiar with the routine by now; we went down to the indoor pool. We discovered that a rebellious spirit prevailed, while we swam in the pool, in the hot-tub were two middle-aged men drinking beer from bottles against the rules of the establishment as displayed prominently. Then, while we took their places in the hot-tub, without a drink, a couple took our place in the pool and found each other irresistible. They may not have been aware of us tucked to one side but they must surely have noticed the viewing area from the lobby! Discretion took us out of the situation.
This was our final full day with a car so we needed to fill the tank for the final time and we did this on our way to find somewhere to eat. The attendant pointed us in the direction of a local Mall and here we found a TGI Friday and one of our best meals of the holiday. Julia chose a chicken dish which was spicier than she could handle but we swapped and the both enjoyed our meals. It was also excellent value if a little less scenic than some of the other places we had eaten.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 15: Newport to Hyannis via Pawtucket

2010-11-30T07:39:00.000-08:00

This was to be Julia’s heritage day, she had always known that she had relatives in New England but the prospect of going there had galvanized her into action. She learned from her mother that her mother was one of twelve children who grew up in the Ilkeston area a town between Derby and Nottingham, where lace making was a flourishing trade. Before the war two of the sisters, Ida and Bess, had taken their skill to Pawtucket where there was a need for lace-makers. Thinking how far away from Derbyshire New England is even when flying makes their decision to head for a new life in America all the more remarkable. Iris, Julia’s mum, had sent cards and letters to them for years before they both passed and she still had their addresses, as well as the address of a friend of theirs, Angie, who outlived them both.
After breakfast in the Dunkin Donuts we had spotted the previous night, which incidentally maintained the Newport tradition of getting the order wrong. We were able to get the order corrected and we set off having put Angie’s address into the SatNav. Pawtucket was not as industrial as we had expected and we found Angie’s house without any problem – it looked easily old enough to be unchanged since Iris had been writing to Angie. The house looked to be perhaps three flats and probably still occupied but we had no reason to enquire further so we moved on. The next address took us to a major junction, and was a huge seemingly recent block of flats. We took photos but really doubted that this monster featured in Ida and Bess’s lives. When we returned to England Iris confirmed to our surprise that the two ladies had retired to that block of apartments which was at that time reserved for women. Thinking about the size of the building Julia asked if there had been an apartment number which went with the address but Iris was adamant that her letters had always got there without such detail.
On the same road we had spotted in guide books and maps there was Slater Mill, an exhibit of an industrial mill built on the Blackstone River very much in the style of Derbyshire mills on the Dove or Derwent. Slater Mill is named after an English man “Slater the Traitor” who brought the mill machine technology to New England in secret and in considerable danger. As it was Columbus Day the museum was open and we decided to sign up for a conducted tour. We paid our $11 each, $1 discount for being members of the AA the British equivalent of the AAA, driving association. The young lady, in period costume, who took our money was excited to learn we were British, over-exited to hear we came from Derbyshire and almost overcome with excitement when we told her Julia’s relatives had come to work in the area!
Located on the Blackstone River in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Slater Mill is a museum complex dedicated to bringing one of the most exciting and significant periods of American history to life. Visitors to the site experience a time when an America of small farmers and craftsmen was poised to become the industrial leader of the world
In the Slater Mill itself, visitors are surrounded by vintage textile machinery bathed in the light of large windows. With expert commentary from costumed interpreters they can imagine the lives of the people – many of them children – who made the early mills come alive. In the nearby Wilkinson Mill they can feel the throb of the great 16,000-pound mill wheel, a replica of the original wheel that harnessed the power of the Blackstone River to make the era’s finest tools. Children get up close and personal with early production processes as they provide the power and operate miniature machinery in the Apprentice Alcove. And in the Sylvanus Brown House they can look back to a time when spinning, weaving, cooking and quilting were the stuff of everyday life.
The story of Slater Mill is the story of innovation, of labor, of artisans, of women’s rights, of the cotton economy, of immigration and assimilation, as well as the story of industry. It is culturally, educationally and historically important for people of all ages and origins to be able to come, see, touch, learn and be inspired at Slater Mill.
Our tour started in the garden of the Sylvanus Brown House and an enthusiastic man showed us round the house and the Wilkinson Mill although the mill wheel was not turning. On the shop floor above the wheel the machines were switched on using electricity rather than water-power, and we realised how noisy and dangerous the environment had been for the workers, the moving machine parts were lubricated with grease which pretty much coated everywhere including the floor so the workers operated barefoot to increase their grip and developed sign language to communicate above the noise. Most of them were close to stone deaf before they retired but in all of this they counted themselves very lucky to work there as they were paid about four times what they could earn in agriculture. The Wilkinson Mill produced machine parts for the cotton and lace industries which thrived along the Blackstone River.
Our guide to the Slater mill was the young lady from reception, her excitement seemed to increase as she took us through the exhibits most of which were in working order but some could not be switched on due to health and safety regulations.
The first machine which she showed us was a cotton picking machine, not picking the cotton from the bush but picking the seeds and impurities from the already picked cotton. The machine performed its task thirty times faster than it had been done previously by hand. She said that it was the invention and adoption of these machines which perpetuated slavery in the south because it had been uneconomic to farm cotton using slaves and owners were thinking of abandoning the practice.
We enjoyed the tour and set off again towards Cape Cod in mid afternoon. We planned on visiting the Whaling Museum but as we were running late we reset the satnav and followed its directions to the Heritage House Hotel in Hyannis.
Having checked in and taken tea in our room we drove through the harbour area to the Kennedy Memorial on the Lewis Bay waterfront and beside it the Korean War Memorial which in turn is next to Veterans' Park Beach. This was our first chance to walk on a beach this holiday. While we were there we noted several groups of three people, each group consisting of a photographer, a model and a director/minder. The group which claimed our attention was one where the female model was proudly pregnant, think basketball sized bump, in a bikini. We could only assume their pictures were for specialised tastes or she had agreed to the session some nine or ten months before.
The light was beautiful and I could quite understand the urge to capture some photographs and having done so we headed back to the hotel.
As was becoming our custom, I took a walk along Main Street to check out the restaurants while Julia swam. Everywhere seemed expensive so I had made no decision when we set off later together to settle on a place to eat. We had some domestic tension when Julia realised that she had forgotten her glasses and could not read menus or prices. Ever the gentleman, I set off back to the hotel still moving poorly due to my tweaked back. In the room I couldn’t find the glasses but picked up her spare pair, I finally caught up with her towards the far end of the street and we re-traced our steps. We finally settled on a cheap Thai restaurant with two starters and a main for $8. I was not amused when Julia opened her jacket to reveal her glasses hooked into her shirt! Oh how we laughed!
The meal was cheap and cheerful the two starters were balanced on the side of the main plate but everything was tasty.
We returned to the hotel as it started to rain.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 14: Newport

2010-11-28T13:57:00.000-08:00

We had taken advice from the reception staff about Newport and had planned, using the map they had provided, driving into Newport to buy breakfast then driving the route round the coast, known unsurprisingly as Ocean Drive, this would take us into the mansion area of the town where we would find the Tennis Hall of Fame and other houses to visit before we finished with the Cliff Walk.
It was Sunday so we were not hugely shocked to find few eating establishments open. We chose the Ocean Breeze Café, there was free of charge unlimited people watching but strangely we seemed to watch other people getting served while we waited and waited, some of the people served before us had arrived after us but as we are English we are pre-programmed not to complain. Perhaps that was the premise of an experiment we were unwittingly the subject of because when the order finally arrived it was wrong! The genius behind the experiment would now have claimed victory when we refused to object but in fact we were being pragmatic, we could not waste the rest of the day waiting for a re-cooked order.
After this annoying start we moved to phase two of the master plan. The Ocean Drive was stunning; every corner took us to another small bay. They were mainly rocky with moored motor boats and small dwellings which in fairness probably cost small fortunes.
We decided to take our photos on our return journey so we pressed on to the mansions situated on Bellevue Avenue; they are placed on the coast to provide an ocean view behind and a civilized location at their front. On Bellevue Avenue is the Tennis hall of Fame situated in the Newport Casino, which still operates as a members’ tennis club and the only grass courts available for public hire in the USA. Casino is a misleading name so I include the following to clarify, before reading it please bear in mind the adage that the “rich are different to us”.
The Newport Casino, home of the International Tennis Hall of Fame & Museum, was first opened on July 26, 1880. The origins of the Newport Casino unfold as follows. The setting was Newport, Rhode Island, August 1879. James Gordon Bennett, the influential publisher of America’s leading newspaper the New York Herald, and Captain Henry Augustus Candy, retired officer of the Queen’s 9th Royal Lancers and skillful British Polo player, were the two key figures in the origins of the Newport Casino. Bennett, as a summer resident, was a member of the Newport Reading Room, a gentlemen-only club, which was a gathering place for prominent Newporters. As Bennett’s guest, Captain Candy also enjoyed the benefits of Reading Room membership. The story goes that one late summer day, the two men were up for some amusing entertainment and Bennett presumably bet or dared Captain Candy to ride his polo horse up onto the front porch of the Reading Room. Candy, without hesitation, mounted his horse and rode onto the porch…and then proceeded into the club! Although Candy won the afternoon wager, club members expressed their displeasure at the insulting disruption. The Governors of the Reading Room were also not amused and revoked the guest privileges of Captain Candy. Bennett was not one to be chastised and tempers flared, all resulting in the end of Bennett’s Reading Room membership.
Bennett’s loss was our gain, as Bennett turned his attention to building an establishment; a “new club house” to serve summer visitors that would be both public and private. In the late fall of 1879, Bennett commissioned the architectural firm of McKim, Mead and White to design and build the facility. McKim, Mead and White was the premier architectural firm of the late 19th and early 20th Century, and the Newport Casino was one of the firm’s earliest projects. Stanford White has often been credited with the Victorian shingle-style design of the Casino, although it was Charles McKim who was responsible for capturing the symmetry and balance of the Bellevue Avenue façade, inclusive of its revenue producing storefronts. The name, Newport Casino, was never meant to refer to gaming and gambling, as the word casino stems from the Italian word cascina, meaning “little summer house.”
Construction underway, the Newport Casino complex was built in only six months. On July 26th, a soft opening was held with guest admittance by invitation only. One week later, on August 2nd, the public was invited to inspect the premises and more than 3,000 attended. The Newport Casino offered a block of shops on Bellevue Avenue, a restaurant and gentlemen’s lodging. Archery, billiards, concerts, dancing, dining, horse shows, lawn bowling, reading, tea parties and theatricals, along with the staples of its present day offerings of lawn tennis, croquet, and court tennis, were all part of the social scene. Writing three days after the opening, the Newport News boasted, “It is doubtful if a more lively place can be found.”
With its centralized three-story clock tower, the main building consisted of ground floor shops and second story clubrooms (clubrooms solely for the private members). The Billiards Room was the most popular of the club rooms, lofty and spacious with full-size windows overlooking the courtyard. Towards the east of the property bordering Freebody Street was the Casino Theatre and Court Tennis building. A full-length piazza porch with upper and lower levels connected these two impressive structures.We parked in the lot of a mall opposite the THoF and went in. The initial area before entering the museum is hugely impressive the buildings of the club/museum wrap round a well tended grass court. Having been brought up playing on grass I would suggest that the grass itself was a little longer than perfect but I think that it was that length as play for the season had finished a week or two before and the courts were being allowed to recover. Since tennis is an upper class sport it will not come as a shock that this club, deep in the oldest wealthy area of the country, hosted the first national championships which grew, in turn, into the US Open.
Having paid admission we could wander the exhibits inside the museum and also the gardens and courts not open to the non-paying public.
In the museum we saw many tennis collectables and I now make my claim to fame. I would wager that of their many guests I would be the one who has hit with the oldest racket, on the wall amongst many others was a three stemmed wooden tennis racket, the Hazel Streamline, my uncle John had one when I had just taken up tennis and I got to use it. Strangely it disappeared somewhere between then and now and my cousins cannot recall its existence. I now see these rackets on sale for hundreds of pounds.
The hall of fame part of the museum left me a bit cold as I knew pretty much all of the inductees and their bios told me very little I didn’t know already. The museum part was pretty varied, there were old drawing rooms of vintage furniture and then there are modern glass cases with players’ kit and equipment. It was an impressive experience overall and it got better when we left the building and walked the grounds. There are multiple grass tennis courts, a clay court and a block of indoor courts. We then came upon a Real Tennis court, the oldest form of tennis played originally by such as King Henry VIII, the most famous example of a court being the one at Hampton Court, a royal residence. We wandered onto the viewing gallery and met up with a member of the club who was running a National Real Tennis championship which unfortunately was taking a break while we were there. While we in England call this brand of tennis “Real” the Americans imported it as “Court” tennis, both names seem to imply superiority to simple outdoor tennis.
After the THoF we drove back along Bellevue Avenue and parked in the car park for the Rosecliff Mansion, however we decided against buying the house with our entrance fee so we set off to find the Cliff Walk. We took a considerable time to find our way through to the walk, once on the walk we found it a little disappointing. The walk was billed as being flanked by the ocean on one side and massive houses on the other, which was true enough in its way but the ocean along there is bland compared to many other stretches in New England and the houses have protected their privacy with walls and fences. The owners of the mansions both famous and lesser have tried to avoid being overlooked from the walk even to the point of digging tunnels under their land to allow them and their guests to see, and get to, the shoreline without being bothered by poor people.
It was enjoyable and quite strenuous walking often over scattered boulders and we found our way back to the car after about two hours.
Now we retraced our path along the ocean drive and stopped twice for photos. We then stopped off in a larger bay where there was a pair of cruise liners anchored here we got into a discussion with an American couple of veteran cruisers whereas we were representing the cruisers of more limited experience.
We returned to the hotel and later went to the local estate where we ate at the 99 Restaurant which we found very economic and welcoming. We located at the same time a Dunkin Donuts which was penciled in as our breakfast venue the following day.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 13: Lee to Newport via Mystic

2010-11-26T03:13:00.000-08:00

We breakfasted in the Indian restaurant and the covered patio next to the outside pool. The breakfast area was too congested with food and equipment before the guests were added to the mix. Shortly after, but unconnected to, our arrival the power in the area went off and a circuit breaker had to be reset. This had the strange affect of breaking the timer on the waffle iron – by now we were highly experienced in dealing with waffle makers. We read the instructions, sprayed the iron with oil when required and always turned the device at the start. The ping usually announced when the waffle was ready but now no ping. We managed but it was enough to throw off several of our fellow guests.
There were two groups of travellers who we found ourselves fascinated by. They were a couple of about our age and a younger, somewhat overweight, couple with two very loud children. Our prejudices were such that we expected to find ourselves more aligned with the older couple but it didn’t finish up that way. The younger wife occupied the waffle maker feeding her noisy children while her husband disappeared, supporting our prejudice as stated. However the older husband was quite loud in his criticism of nearly everything and particularly his waffle which was only a mess because he had not followed the instructions. When he dropped something down himself we had the spectacle of his wife wiping him down as if he were a child, meanwhile the younger mother was sitting with her young children when the girl spilled her juice. The father was absent but in fact was in the cooking area timing the waffles for other guests using his mobile phone. The young boy shot off to get paper napkins and deal with the spillage. The grumpy couple continued to annoy us but we sort of agreed with them when the younger family deserted their messy table. Wrong again; they were only greeting some family members who were part of a surprise meeting concocted by the wives of the party. They returned to the table while the “timer” husband went to ask the reception desk about the charge to their visitors to have breakfast. Again I was backing the wrong horse; there were notices around trying to ensure all breakfast food was consumed in the eating area so I assumed they would charge any outsiders but the hotel were gracious and invited the visitors to eat for free. After breakfast the younger family cleared their table while the grumpy older couple left their mess to be cleared.
After breakfast we needed to move on promptly as we had several plans for our journey. Having loaded the car I returned to the hotel reception to check out, as usual no money changed hands but I did realise for the first time that our room on the car park side of the block was inferior to the lake side rooms with their balconies overlooking the lake.
Close to our route we had noted the Old Sturbridge Village, which is a living museum located in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, which re-creates life in rural New England during the 1790s through 1830s. It is the largest living museum in New England, covering more than 200 acres. We decided to look in on it, and if it was cheap, we would spend a maximum of an hour there. We came off the freeway and found it easily but it was expensive, over $20 each, which we reckon would have been good value for a day long stay but not for the short time we could allocate. We tried to rejoin the freeway but this time we encountered large lines for the toll booths. These were made worse by there only being one booth which accepted cash. Our mood was not improved by our battle to hold position in the line with cars leaving to risk the automated tolls and more vehicles forcing their way in!
Our spirits quickly picked up as we cleared the toll area and set off for Mystic.
We needed to hit Mystic for two reasons, we had all enjoyed the film Mystic Pizza and it was our best chance to add another state to our list, Connecticut.
We were totally charmed by Mystic; we parked in a residential area and walked back towards the centre of town which was the other side of the Mystic River, a draw bridge was due to be raised when we remembered that we had not locked the car, I returned to rectify this while Julia took possession of the camera and captured the bridge opening.
We found Mystic Pizza, but we already knew that the film was made elsewhere, and took photos. There was a big line to eat there but we did not have that in mind. We ate home made ice-cream next to the bridge and wandered the sea port area, I had reclaimed the camera by now or we would have only six photos to show for our visit. Julia struggles with the digital concept and still seems to think as if we had limited film.
Reluctantly we moved on to Newport and once again the satnav did us proud. We arrived at the last Best Western of this tour, the Mainstay.
At reception there was an English guest reporting on her dissatisfaction about pretty much everything concerning her stay, not a good omen, but we found the hotel great. The staff was helpful and everything was as it should be. Having settled into our room and enjoyed our tea, the travel kettle never let us down; I went out to explore hopefully to return with milk. Within easy walking distance, even for me still struggling with a sore back, I found an estate with a Wal-Mart and a 99 restaurant which we knew nothing about. I returned with milk, cookies and a new watch. Ageing is a daunting prospect but preferable to the alternative. I now have to buy big faced digital watches in order to read them without my glasses, fortunately they all seem to have similar set-up menus, because the first one I bought had a big face with big numerals but instructions with tiny printing that I couldn’t read even with my glasses! At school there were no such problems, unable to text on a new phone I would throw it to a pupil and they would have the skill masted in seconds and me taught in minutes.
On my victorious return to the hotel we decided to eat there. The food was excellent, stuffed scrod and cold beer filled us. There was a military feel to the bar/restaurant area because of the nearby submarine base but there was no rowdiness and we found it easy to get a good night’s sleep.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 10: Corning to Lee

2010-11-13T10:26:00.000-08:00

We enjoyed breakfast at the hotel and looked to move on early as we had decided to stop off at Springfield to see the Basketball Hall of Fame and the Springfield Armory. When I say stop off we were in fact over-shooting Lee by about 30 miles because the following day we were heading onto Newport and wanted to visit Mystic en route.
Since Niagara we had repacked so that we only needed one bag in the hotel while the other, filled with dirty clothes, could remain in the boot (trunk) of the car.
When I took the baggage out to the car I twinged my back, although it was not as bad as sometimes I knew that it was not going to get much better sitting in a car for hours on end.
We found the Basketball Hall of Fame without a problem and got parked up. I was stiff getting out of the car but it eased as I walked in.
The BHoF was hugely impressive; we started on the top floor which was basically a gallery with the inductees listed in order of their induction, the walls are covered with photos and below that there are display cabinets with artifacts related to the inductees. Out of too many things to list I remember the ball with which Wilt Chamberlain scored his 25000th point.
The next floor down had galleries featuring coaches and players but with an emphasis on Michael Jordan. Amongst his life story I found no evidence for something I believe about him so anyone can support me in this if they find any evidence for it. I believe Michael picked 23 as his number because his older brother played in 45 and he would be happy to be half the player his brother was.
Finally the ground floor has a hardwood court and racks of balls which anyone can use. Amongst the miscellaneous shirts, balls and shoes on display there are interactive exhibits, you can try to jump up for hanging balls to test your rebounding skills and on a small court you can play virtual basketball against the computer.
While we were there also on display was the Chris Webber Collection. This is comprised of African-American art and cultural artifacts dating back to the 1700s. Included items like first-edition books by Booker T. Washington, and personal writings from Frederick Douglass and Martin Luther King, Jr. enhance the cultural and social significance of the exhibit. It occurred to us that he may have been inspired to collect such items after April 5, 1993, at Michigan's second consecutive NCAA Men's Division I Basketball Championship game, Webber called a time-out with 11 seconds left in the game when his team, down 73–71, did not have any remaining, resulting in a technical foul that effectively clinched the game for North Carolina. The game marked the end of Webber's acclaimed two year collegiate basketball career. In the collection is a very kind letter from Bill Clinton, then president, he hand wrote:

April 9, 1992

Dear Chris,

I have been thinking of you a lot since I sat glued to the TV during the championship game.
I know that there may be nothing I or anyone else can say to ease the pain and discouragement of what happened.
Still, for whatever it's worth, you, and your team, were terrific. And part of playing for high stakes under great pressure is the constant risk of error. I know. I have lost two political races and made countless mistakes over the last twenty years. What matters is the intensity, integrity, and courage you bring to the effort. That is certainly what you have done. You can always regret what occurred but don't let it get you down or take away the satisfaction of what you have accomplished.
You have a great future. Hang in there.
Sincerely, Bill Clinton
Surely receiving such a letter may have inspired him to collect in this area.
We were slightly disappointed that although it is described in one of our guide books we did not see a moving pavement from which you try to shoot baskets in a series of “Hoops through the Ages”. I suspect it is a device they set up when the hall is busier.
There was a slightly pointed series of posters which displayed the following:
1962 Wilt Chamberlain – salary $65,000 – averaged over 50 points per game.
1971 Kareem Abdul Jabbar – salary $249,996 – averaged over 31 points per game.
2005 Lebron James – salary $4,320,360 – averaged over 27 points per game.
I wonder what salary Wilt Chamberlain could command playing today?
Before I move on I would mention one of the 2010 inductees, Bob Hurley Snr. He is described as a legend among coaches at any level; Bob Hurley has led St. Anthony's High School in Jersey City, New Jersey to 25 State Parochial School championships, three USA Today national titles and over 900 wins. Hurley gained national attention when his son Bobby graduated and became a four-year starter and All-American at Duke University. Bobby, along with Grant Hill and Christian Laettner, led Duke to two NCAA titles. Over the years, Hurley has been offered a number of college coaching jobs. He has turned them all down.
My only concern is that he is one of only three high school coaches inducted and he was more famous as a father than for doing such a great job himself.
After we finished at the BHoF we set off again to visit the Springfield Armory, we had an address which we put into the SatNav but we still found ourselves sitting in a school’s car park. I asked a couple of students who directed me to the school administration and they in turn directed us to the Armory which was in the same set of grounds – it was all a bit low-key.
The Springfield Armory was the primary center for the manufacture of U.S. military small arms and the site of many important technological advances in gun manufacture. Many different models produced at the armory from 1794 to 1968 were referred to as "Springfield rifles". The other major gun manufacturing center was the Harpers Ferry Armory, until its destruction during the American Civil War. It is now the home of the Springfield Armory National Historic Site. It was a free museum and we had an hour to enjoy it before it closed at 5.00pm.
We watched an introductory video and as we progressed round the exhibits there were brilliant explanatory videos which showed how the various stages of firearms worked from muzzle loading to fully automatic. The museum was in two parts, one for the huge range of firearms and weapons they had collected there and the other for the developing industrial machinery used to make the weapons.
Soon after five we were back on the road to the Quality Inn at Lee, which featured in the hotel, strangely, The Bombay Indian Restaurant. Having driven as much it was tempting but it seemed expensive and Indian is a cuisine where you have to be in that mood.
After checking through the various pamphlets in the room we decided to drive into Lee and choose between a sports bar and a family restaurant.
Both restaurants had addresses on Main Street so it was a lottery as to which appeared first – The Locker Room Sports Bar was the winner. We parked on the street and headed in. We got seats at a table by the door and were greeted by the bar manager. We waited a while at our table and eventually one of the waitresses took our drinks order. Clearly we were not specific enough in that we would prefer our drinks that particular evening. We had menus and had decided on our choices but nobody seemed that interested.
The bar manager, who was an English guy from Essex, managed to point his staff in our direction again and we got our drinks, we also managed to order a pizza for me and chicken wings and salad for Julia. In conversation it emerged that he had spent the summer coaching at sports camps and was now doing this job through the winter. Strangely he found it much more surprising that we were there as tourists.
Being a sports bar we were not surprised to see local teams celebrated with displays round the bar area, their most successful sporting outfit was the local high school’s ladies basketball team and apparently they were well represented on the waiting staff. Perhaps they play a very physical brand of the game in that area and have sustained head injuries affecting their memories. Waitresses were often wandering round the bar offering orders to all and sundry before someone claimed their meal. Near us a group of three all got their starters together then two of them were served their main course and offered dessert before the third member of the group got her main course. When we got our meals they were fine except that it arrived with an extra large salad along with the normal sized one – we rejected it but still got charged for it until our Essex friend intervened.
Although it was the most disorganized staff we were quite happy with the evening, the food and drink were good, we were in no hurry and there was a good atmosphere.
When we returned to the hotel; the car park was absolutely packed and the Indian Restaurant was throbbing so perhaps it was well worth the high prices.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 10: Niagara Falls to Corning

2010-11-10T11:20:00.000-08:00

Right away we feel the need to apologise to Corning as we totally failed to do it justice – sorry.
We set off from Niagara after a most satisfactory buffet breakfast which we found opposite the front entrance of the hotel, in a diner style building possibly related to the “My Cousin Vinny’s” restaurant. The set price was reasonable and the service was excellent.
We had a journey of some 150 miles and two hours forty minutes ahead of us so we set off shortly after breakfast. We found our way to the Rainbow Bridge and crossed it to the USA. I would love to tell you that we were greeted like long lost friends by the American Immigration service but they, in the person of the officer at the check point, were equally gruff and businesslike as our Canadian. Being fair I suspect that most interactions at the border are filmed for security purposes and no official would want to be seen laughing and joking with us if we were later identified as terrorists, although I do remember filling in a form previously where I promised that I was not.
Niagara had marked a middle point in our adventure and we were now making our way back to New England proper in a two day drive across New York State which doesn’t count.
We had decided to stop off at Watkins Glen State Park on our way to Corning because our notes from American Driving Vacations said cryptically, “If you did not have the opportunity to visit WGSP, you can do so on the way to Corning” Looking at our route map I cannot imagine any part of our previous journey that had passed close enough to make dropping in even remotely possible.
It was also a good thing that we reached Watkins Glen as we were nearing Corning so much of the journey was out of the way. We pulled into the State Park parking lot, having paid our $8 per car, at the bottom entrance of the park. We were notified that there was no shuttle bus running back down from the top of the park but we would not have taken it anyway.
Watkins Glen State Park is located on the edge of the village of Watkins Glen, New York, south of Seneca Lake in Schuyler County. The main feature of the park is the hiking trail that climbs up through the gorge, passing over and under waterfalls. The park has a lower part that is next to the village and an upper part that is open woodland.
Watkins Glen State Park is in a 400-foot-deep narrow gorge cut through rock by a stream that was left hanging when glaciers of the Ice age deepened the Seneca valley, increasing the tributary stream gradient to create rapids and waterfalls wherever there were layers of hard rock. The rocks of the area are sedimentary of Devonian age that are part of a dissected plateau that was uplifted with little faulting or distortion. They consist mostly of soft shales, with some layers of harder sandstone and limestone. The park features a trail by which one can climb or descend the gorge. Hundreds of stone steps climb over, under, and along the waterfalls. There are three trails: Indian, Gorge and Southern Rim. The Gorge and Southern Rim trails are closer to the waterfalls. The Indian trail takes you to the upper entrance, through the woods.
We took the Gorge Trail up and in due course followed Indian Trail down. I have been mentioning my use of the camera throughout the trip but this day we were obviously under equipped in that respect, it was “tripod day” ever twist and turn of the gorge was accompanied by a photographer complete with tripod pointing thousands of dollars of equipment up or down the running water. They mainly had a long-suffering attitude which grudgingly allowed us to share the park with them as long as we showed proper respect.
The path up the gorge was impressive, not Niagara impressive but still beautiful, and on several occasions we had to pass behind the falls and here there was no glass between us and the water. No rain capes had been issued but I was less protective of the camera having seen what it could withstand.
We followed a group of college boys up the trail and, being younger and fitter than us, they would have left us far behind except for their pauses to put their lives at risk leaning over big drops and sitting on bridge rails while taking and posing for photographs. My father used to remark, “the Lord looks after the stupid” often related to something I was doing, and it seems firstly he was right and, secondly, they put a lot of faith in that theory.
At the very top of the park there is the upper entrance with a picnic area with a concession stand, and outside of the park, fenced off with warning signs a disused railroad bridge. We last saw the college boys on the top span of the bridge hopefully they made their way down safely.
We came down the park by following the Indian Trail which was a quieter and dryer route than the way up. There were good views in places of the gorge but, more excitingly for us, since we presented no threat to the local Chipmunks they scampered quite close to us. I got a pleasing shot of one watching us from a tree stump.
It was perhaps 3.00pm when we returned to the car park and we then drove back into the village and parked again by the lake/marina. Here we got talking to a local sailor, who took tourists onto Lake Seneca in his yacht, he reckoned his season was almost over and he would only be going out if booked in advance. He also told us that there was a passage out of Seneca Lake meaning that he could navigate to pretty much anywhere from there. He was interested in our itinerary and was impressed by our mileage up that point but he couldn’t summon up any enthusiasm for Newport which was where we were heading in two days.
We arrived at our hotel, the Fairfield Inn Marriott without quite reaching Corning although we did pass its celebrated Museum of Glass.
The hotel was excellent and located on an estate with several shops and restaurants, we were resolved to eat locally and cheaply so we never ventured into Corning. I took a walk round the area and managed to put some credit on the AT&T phone that I had bought last year in Texas but was refusing to work this time. The credit on it previously had evaporated and I had to pay to add some more. I may be judging New England harshly but I felt that the same problem presented in Texas would have seen the store guy tracking down my previous credit.
My Adidas digital wristwatch had reset itself to midnight a couple of times on the trip so I started to look for a replacement but nothing took my eye.
In the immediate area, easy walking distance, there were several restaurants, a Wendy’s, a Chinese Buffet and Bob Evans, which when I looked at the menu seemed extremely reasonable. So we chose it, the food bragged about being simple and wholesome, think school dinners without the charisma. The food was filling and tasty enough but we made an error, the tea was dreadful, a tea bag of no particular flavour in water which was hot rather than boiling. After Niagara it was nice to be eating at a reasonable price and we left the restaurant having only parted with $30 including the tip.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 10: Niagara Falls

2010-11-08T15:27:00.000-08:00

Julia threw open the curtains at about 8.00am and enjoyed the view as would have anyone glancing our way as she was straight out of bed and wearing nothing, such was her excitement about the place we found ourselves. We have remarked several times that we need to pinch ourselves to test if we are dreaming, since retirement we have seen amongst other places Pompeii, The Pyramids of Gisa, Mount Vesuvius, Venice and now Niagara Falls. Julia being a geologist finds the natural sights the most exciting and the falls had her gripped.
We retraced my steps from the day before and found the IHOP, but, as it was attached to another hotel, it was expensive to eat the basic stack of three pancakes.
After breakfast we set off to explore the falls area. We refused the hillside railway and looked for an alternative way down to the water’s edge which we failed to find; reluctantly we paid up for the railway. A journey of about three minutes down the hillside took us to the Table Rock House Plaza where we were to purchase our attraction tickets. The Joint ticket which gave us four attractions seemed expensive so we decided to buy a ticket to “Behind the Falls” and later one to ride on the “Maid of the Mist”. However after enjoying the view from a midway observation platform we saw the huge line for the “Behind the Falls”, I offered to go back and buy a joint ticket as there had been no line there. When I returned the line had shrunk dramatically but we still gained a small advantage as we were able to go in ahead of those queuing by taking the pre paid line.
We were photographed against a blue screen in order that we could select the backdrop of our choice on our return through. It seems strange that one of nature’s wonders is right there but they fake the photographs using computer effects, I cannot understand why they don’t make me taller and thinner and put me in front of the Grand Canyon!
After the photograph we were given yellow rain capes to protect us from the spray.
To quote the brochure:
Visitors to Niagara Falls can enjoy the thunder of the waters from a completely different perspective by visiting The Journey Behind The Falls attraction. The observation platform at the base of the falls is easily reached by elevators and a network of tunnels. Two other tunnels provide a close-up view of the Falls from behind. The tunnels extend only 46 metres behind the waterfall, so there is not a lot of walking and you can explore it all at your leisure: the excursion is completely self-guided.
The view of the falls through the openings at the end of the tunnels is merely of a solid sheet of water but the awe comes from the noise and vibration caused by the volume of water rushing down. After being behind the falls we emerged onto an observation platform and photographed and videoed the horse shoe shaped falls. While we were there the Maid of the Mist arrived at the foot of the falls, it pushed its engines hard to get deep into the spray where it held its position for several minutes before retreating. I’m sure the force of the water pushes the boat down river without much help from the engine. The demand for the boat trip is such that at any given moment there are three Maids of the Mist in action.
As we left the BTF area we took in the “Niagara’s Fury – The Creation of the Falls” the least impressive of our four attractions. Once again we were issued with rain capes and we stood and watched a folksy film about a beaver on school detention having to write an essay on the geology that created the Falls – I thought Julia might be spellbound by this but no it was a bit too Alvin and the Chipmunks even for her! Following the film we were ushered into a circular area, suspiciously with a metal grid for a floor, and told to hang onto the supports which rose from the floor. Now we experienced the Fury!!!
To quote;
The temperature will drop. Water will bubble and spray while snow falls all around. Standing on a massive platform you will feel the wrath of Mother Nature as the floor tilts and trembles beneath you. This is Niagara's Fury! Niagara Parks has recreated the amazing sights and sounds of the Creation of Niagara Falls. Incredible images developed with technology used previously only in satellites and medicine will immerse you in a 4D Universal Studios-style attraction.
If you are me you’ll struggle to be impressed.
We handed in our rain capes and moved on towards the Maid of the Mist.
We passed in our voucher, got issued with blue rain capes and boarded the next boat, within minutes we set off past the American Falls noting as we went the smaller falls alongside, called the Bridesmaid. The American Falls is higher than the Canadian and more dangerous because of there being more rocks at its base so nobody has ever attempted to go over them in a barrel.
Before we reached the Canadian Falls we had the spot pointed out where a young boy was picked up alive having been swept over the Falls in a small canoe wearing only a life jacket – his father was with him but didn’t survive. The boy was picked up by one of the MOTM’s which was carrying tourists at the time.
As we neared the base of the falls we were drenched by the spray, deafened by the noise and struggling against the water pressure – we were so impressed!
We have some great pictures and video - despite my worrying both cameras survived – I was really fearful for their survival when every surface was wet to the touch.
Next we caught the free people mover along the shoreline to the final of our booked attractions, the White Water Walk. Here we again took an elevator down to the river side and walked along a boardwalk slightly above the river close enough to fully appreciate the power of the rapids and the speed of the river. At the start of the walk there was a display of the feats of daring attempted in the area. Look up Daredevils of Niagara Falls on Google or your favourite search engine it has to be read to be believed. Here are some examples:
Going over the falls in a barrel:
July 11th 1920 - Englishman Charles G. Stephens equipped his wooden barrel with an anvil for ballast. Charles tied himself to the anvil for security. After the plunge, Chuck’s right arm was the only item left in the barrel.
July 5th 1930 - A Greek waiter named George L. Statakis suffocated to death after his barrel was trapped behind the falls for more than 14 hours.
The one I remember from the display was a woman who went over the falls in a barrel accompanied by her pet dog, she suffocated in the barrel before she was rescued because her dog blocked the only air hole by putting its nose through it thus cutting off any air into the barrel but surviving itself – Man’s best friend?
Tightrope walking over the Falls:
On June 30, 1859, the “Great Blondin” walked along a tightrope suspended above the rapids of Niagara Falls, becoming the first man to walk across the Falls. His first tightrope walk across Niagara Falls earned him international fame, and he repeated the walk in many different fashions. According to the Niagara Parks Commission, by his career’s end, Blondin had crossed Niagara Falls on tightrope while carrying a wheelbarrow, cooking an omelet, carrying his manager on his back, and doing a somersault on stilts. The number of times Blondin crossed Niagara varies by account from eight to 21.
It was a restful finish to the attractions and we were able to catch the free bus back to the hotel. After a brew in our room, once again Julia had a swim or bath while I took some great photos of the Canadian falls with a rainbow caused by the sun shining through the mist. I was also charged with finding the evening’s restaurant and I chose “My Cousin Vinney’s” party due to my affection for the film of the same name and partly because I thought it was unconnected to any hotel.
Sadly I was wrong on the second count and the place charged like a wounded bull, we passed the $70 mark for the first and only time and the meal was no better than average.
However Julia refused to be downhearted as we went to bed with one of the great sights of the world.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 9: Watertown to Niagara Falls

2010-11-08T09:00:00.000-08:00

We were hoping to enjoy some time in Sackets Harbor before travelling along the coast roads towards Niagara; this meant that we rose relatively early in order to get on the road.
Breakfast was included in our deal and it was one of the best on our travels. The real treat was the egg and omelettes chef who was also a baseball nut and a Red Sox fan. He tipped the Yankees to lose in the first round of the American League playoffs against the Minnesota Twins; he was entirely convincing as to how they completely failed to match up and were, anyway, in a slump limping into the playoffs. The fact that he was a Red Sox fan may have coloured his opinion because the Yankees progressed 3-0 to meet the Texas Rangers.
Once again there was a sizable contingent of soldiers and their families eating breakfast but also we had another set of bikers sporting their leathers and Harley Davison clothing.
We left Watertown without regrets but unfortunately when we got to Sackets Harbor we found that the museums were closed, but we were able to walk round the battle ground walk. We followed the numbered signs and explanations and formed some impressions of the battle. It appears, from memory rather than research, that the final result was a score draw. The British forces landed at Sackets Harbor with the objective of capturing the town and the ship-building facilities, with a secondary purpose of capturing or destroying the American supplies stored there. They failed to do both this but when it looked like the Americans were going to be overwhelmed someone panicked and destroyed the supplies to avoid losing them to the British. The British were finally repelled but by default they had achieved part of their plan.
We watched a pair of eagles patrolling the airspace over the battle ground walk and at times they stooped to earth quite near to us but never quite in camera shot.
Very much at the end of our tour the rain returned and we decided to make our way as straight as possible to Niagara.
We were aware that we were booked into the Canadian side of the falls so we couldn’t use the SatNav which only had the USA loaded. I got round this problem by setting it for Buffalo NY and assuming anything as large as a country would be signed from there. I then used Google to look up a route from the Canadian border to the hotel using street names.
The plan worked and we found ourselves approaching the USA Canada border. The immigration booths were very much like the toll booths we had become accustomed to on our travels, thus Julia was following the car in front oblivious to notices. The fourteen year old Canadian official yelled through his speaker system, “Get back to the stop sign!”
We retreated and advanced again only when signaled forward, but by now the young man was, as my mother would say, “drunk with power”. He greeted us with, “Did you see the sign that time?”
There was no easing of the attitude as we admitted that we were indeed foreign to his shores and we had to give a fairly detailed account of most of our lives leading up to this meeting, and a less detailed description of our future plans.
We were eventually allowed to enter his country where it was to emerge that plans were already in place to fleece us of as much currency as possible.
After some small navigational problems we located the hotel. Not Best Western this time but the Oakes Hotel Overlooking The Falls, we had specified a higher tariff hotel to guarantee a memorable experience, and in fairness it was memorable.
Let me digress, I have a very variable amount of sympathy for victims of scams, at one end of the spectrum is the victim who receives an email from a bank, where they actually have an account, asking them to confirm their security details, when they comply the recipient of their information uses it to rob them. They may have been unsophisticated and trusting but they still get my sympathy.
At the other end of the spectrum, I regularly get emails which ask me permission to use my name and personal details to claim money left in a foreign bank after the account holder has met with a tragic accident. This is clearly an invitation for me to enter into a fraud and therefore I have no sympathy for anyone who provides their personal details and thus gets robbed.
Taking all of the above into account you can chose if you wish to extend your sympathy to us being “scammed” by the hotel, in all this hotel they must have about a dozen rooms which face away from the falls, we collected our room key and pulled our luggage to our assigned room on the second floor, it faced the car park not the falls. I returned to reception and explained our situation, and sure enough there were upgrades available at $20 per night.
Now having two agencies, DialAFlight and American Driving Vacations, dealing on our behalf did not help my case, as I couldn’t categorically state that we had asked for a falls view and our instruction had been passed on. The $40 was money well spent but I remain convinced that there would have been a regular parade of people arriving at a non-falls view and being charged to upgrade. Reading reviews of the hotel have since confirmed my theory.
When we transferred rooms it involved going up and down a small flight of stairs in the corridor, as I did the down leg dragging the smaller bag on wheels, there was a snapping sound and I had the handle in my hand and the bag three steps behind me on the floor.
Julia turned on hearing my expletive, saw the handle and said, “Where did you get that from?”
I collapsed in laughter and promised her maximum exposure for her remark.
We found our way to the replacement room on the eleventh floor and the view was mind-blowing, we were ideally placed to see the Canadian falls but also had a good view of the American falls in the middle distance. The power of the water is such that there is a permanent plume of water vapour rising from the rocks below the drop.
The room was also clearly better than the previous one but that only tended to confirm my suspicions. We unpacked and while Julia had a swim I took a wander to see what restaurants were available and to pick up milk and cookies to go with our afternoon tea. Although I got caught in the next shower I completed both parts of my mission and returned to the room to brew up.
We decided to eat early to have an early night in preparation for a long day enjoying the falls.
We ate at the attached Applebee’s restaurant and were shocked that it was much more expensive than we had expected, we put this down to the fact that it served the hotel trade and not the locals. Insult was added to injury when we were later in bed watching TV and an advert appeared for “One starter and two Mains for £20” and I thought that will be Chilis but no it was Applebee’s and had never been offered to us in any shape or form, both our entrees were over $20 each.
While I watched TV Julia insisted on having the curtains open so that she could see the falls as she lay in bed. At night they are illuminated by floodlights of changing colours and the mist reflects the colours to increase the magic. At midnight the lights are switched off and Julia drew the curtains.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 8 : Saranac Lake to Watertown

2010-11-04T13:27:00.001-07:00

The only arrangement offered at the hotel for breakfast was the restaurant next door to the hotel but we had already found it to be expensive so we had plan B to fall back on. We packed up and checked out we drove up the main street to the service station and bought a breakfast roll from the Subway franchise inside.
Having eaten we returned to the car and checked out our options on the way to Watertown. We inserted the addresses of various attractions into the SatNav and checked the distances involved and times estimated to visit them. Out of several possibilities the Wild Center was the nearest and had the extra bonus of being broadly in the correct direction – we logged in the details and set off.
The directions were good and we arrived at the Wild Center, AKA the Natural History Museum of the Adirondacks. This is a natural history museum that opened July 4, 2006 in New York state's Adirondack Park The museum occupies a 31-acre site in the town of Tupper Lake, New York, the approximate geographic center of the six million acre Adirondack Park. The museum features live exhibits and live animals, including river otters, birds, amphibians and fish. There’s an indoor waterfall and river, towering glacial ice wall, high-definition films, and wide-screen theatre on 31-acre trail-filled campus. The new museum mixes up the indoors and outdoors. There are waterfalls inside, and exhibit labels in the woods outside. Indoors a marsh appears to flow into a real pond that laps at the outside of the building, and the calls of live owls and otters mix with the splashing cascade of a trout-filled indoor stream. High definition films explore the region and showcase fascinating reports from field scientists researching everything from moose to loons to alpine summits.
We decided that since it was raining again, we would limit ourselves to the inside exhibits and they were good value. To be fair we both enjoyed the female otter which decided to put on a display of speed swimming in her private pool – her turns and flips were rather too quick for my camera/reflexes and I now have a great series of shots of disturbed water and a flash of tail leaving the picture.
I was less impressed than Julia, the geologist, with the working model of a glacier breaking up, but I suppose I should be grateful that Julia has a soft spot for old things that creak, moan and fall apart!
It was overall a brilliantly put together educational experience and I’m sure if Julia was still teaching she would be planning a Rosliston School field trip as we speak.
We watched a film about the re-establishment of the Moose into the Adirondacks and I resisted the temptation to try and get a convincing photo of the filmed moose to try and persuade people that we had seen one for real. After a while I became less self-critical because we decided that all the film coverage was of one moose, possibly an uncharacteristically extrovert amongst its kind.
One piece of information which lingers with me is that, if I remember it correctly, the Adirondacks wolf was hunted to extinction and that, in itself, caused a population explosion of its prey species and then in turn the coyote population increased as there was less competition for their prey, now studies of coyote DNA reveal that there is a strand of wolf DNA appearing in more and more of the coyotes – it looks like the wolves have decided on a more subtle repopulation strategy!
It was about noon when we left the Wild Center and there was another three hours in front of us before we were to reach Watertown. We made good progress and for the last 45 minutes we travelled alongside areas of land fenced off and with US Army signs forbidding entry. We found out later that this area is Fort Drum and Watertown is a very military town.
We arrived at the Best Western Carriage House on a busy street in Watertown but we felt already that Watertown was struggling and in the grip of the economic situation. The hotel had a high proportion of Army personnel and army families as guests, both men and women were in camouflage uniforms and there were at least three dog handlers with their dogs. Having checked in and been assigned to one of the better rooms on our travels we took a walk and our impression of the town did not improve. We retreated to the hotel and the rain arrived again to further dampen our spirits.
We felt quite lucky that we had opted for the Asian Buffet the previous evening rather than the Mexican Restaurant close to the hotel in Saranac Lake because the hotel had a Mexican Restaurant and nothing outside had tempted us.
That evening we enjoyed the Mexican meal and a very welcome Mexican beer. The military presence was very notable in both the bar and dinning area and as the diners finished their meals nearly all of them settled their bills individually and mainly courtesy of Uncle Sam, some of the diners split the food from the drink and I’m guessing had to pay for the drink themselves.
Although it was a high standard room and the members of staff were all very pleasant, the stay was spoiled for Julia by being disturbed by traffic up and down the corridor outside the room. In the king size bed I remained unaware of Julia’s problems – I slept well.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 7: Bennington to Saranac Lake

2010-11-03T12:09:00.000-07:00

We had the Best Western buffet breakfast and got ourselves on the road as soon as we could. The Motel had been full during our stay and again there had been bus tours amongst the guests but our favourite fellow guests were the bikers. In the parking lot there were several Harley Davison motor bikes but the riders were at least our age and wearing leather and H-D branded clothing. I guess that the price of such bikes is too much for the younger generation.
We needed gas (petrol) for our onward trip and once again we marveled at the price, it only cost us $25 to fill the tank in a car the size of a Ford Focus while at home it costs the equivalent of $120 to fill my Mondeo. Despite our need for petrol we couldn’t bring ourselves to buy from Charles Wells who has a filling station near to the hotel which is also a gun dealership.
The mileage to Saranac Lake was listed as 150 miles but the estimated journey time was almost three hours indicating a slower set of roads. Also when we consulted a map we realised that to go from Franconia to Bennington we had zigged south-west and to reach Saranac we were zagging North West and if we had cut out Bennington we would have travelled almost due West. All this meant that we needed to get the best out of Bennington on our way onwards, we checked out three of the five covered bridges and they were worth the detour.
We also stopped at Lake George and found, from there, The Prospect Mountain Veterans Memorial Highway which is a parkway located in the town of Lake George, New York. The parkway passes through a gate, heading up the base of Prospect Mountain. The route is very scenic, with trees on both sides of the road. Soon after, the parkway passes over Interstate 87 (I-87, named the Adirondack Northway). Then the parkway begins to head up the mountain. There are large heavy, stabilized rocks on both sides of the road, which act as a guard rail to prevent the danger of running off of the road, the parkway curves around the mountain, intersecting with several specialized scenic overlooks. The road curves around the several peaks of Prospect Mountain, coming to an end at the main peak at 5.88 miles (9.46 km), where a 100-mile (161 km) view can be seen. The furthest that can be seen are the Green Mountains in Vermont and the White Mountains in New Hampshire.
We stopped at the first overlook and had a photo taken of both of us by Mr. Baylor, he was wearing a Baylor Bears sweatshirt and when we mentioned that we had visited the university at Waco, Texas, he explained that he wore the shirt because he was named Baylor! Still it is one of the few photos of us together taken on the entire tour. Mr. B was last seen offering his services as a jobbing photographer to every group or couple arriving at that parking place.
On the summit of Mount Prospect we enjoyed the excellent views and we could see the various stages of the foliage changing on the trees.
In due course we pressed on towards Saranac Lake, this stretch of the journey was through Vermont and the roads were slower and they passed through idyllic towns – it was the best of the travelling. Although we passed out of Vermont and into New York State to reach Saranac Lake via Lake Placid the areas were still very scenic. We turned a corner and there were huge structures rising out of the forest, we knew we were closing in on Lake Placid where the USA Olympic training takes place so it took little working out that these structures were the ski-jumping towers but it took considerable working out how anyone could leap off anything that height.
We arrived at and checked into the Best Western Mountain Lake in the first part of the village we reached.
The village lies within the boundaries of the Adirondack Park, about seven miles (11 km) from Lake Placid. These two villages, along with nearby Tupper Lake, comprise what is known as the Tri-Lakes region. Saranac Lake was named the best small town in New York State and ranked 11th in the United States in The 100 Best Small Towns in America. In 1998 the National Civic League named Saranac Lake an All-America City and in 2006 the village was named as one of the "Dozen Distinctive Destinations" by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. The village has 186 buildings that are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Having moved into our room we walked back down the main street and located the possible restaurants for the evening – we selected the “All You Can Eat Chinese Buffet”. Having made this decision Julia returned to the hotel to swim some serious lengths while I walked on beyond the hotel along the lake side. In my quest for the strangest businesses in New England I had the Doorstep Filling Station in Littleton and the Bennington Mobil station which sidelined in Guns, Ammo and archery, now I encountered the Smith’s Taxidermy. Through the windows I could see all manner of creatures, from bears to wild turkeys but strangely that wasn’t the aspect which amused me most.
The shop was locked up but on the door was a notice saying that the owner could be contacted on a number and they would arrange to meet the client within a day. I got this mental picture of a hunter dragging a moose off the back of his truck and only then reading the notice! To be fair I guess if the trophy animal is already dead then there is probably no real urgency for its first meeting with the taxidermist.
As I continued past the establishment the village became even neater and on the other side of the lake there were waterside houses which appeared to be served by boat rather than road.
Just across the road from the hotel there were two tennis courts which I felt obliged to inspect, they were in great shape and served by floodlights making them an idyllic setting for a friendly game but it would need to be friendly as the netting on the side of the court stopped about a metre from each corner leaving the vast majority of the lake side of the court unprotected. It would have taken good self control not to angle the ball off the court and into the lake if you were at all annoyed with your opponents.
I met up with Julia after her swim and we went out to the Asian Buffet quite early in the evening. The restaurant was large and busy and didn’t limit itself to Asian food; there was even a selection of pizzas! We enjoyed the meal which was excellent value and we staggered back to the hotel feeling very full.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 6: Franconia to Bennington

2010-11-03T07:30:00.000-07:00

The schedule now showed a series of three one night stops basically to get us to Niagara Falls which we had tacked onto the original “New England in the Fall” itinerary on the basis Niagara is too special to miss. We had an estimated three hours of driving from Franconia to Bennington but it looked like freeway all the way as it was 180 miles.
Bennington had its own attractions but we decided to take in the Flume Gorge and Visitor Center at Franconia Notch State Park, in the heart of the popular White Mountain National Forest. Discovered in 1808, the Flume is a natural gorge extending 800 feet at the base of Mount Liberty. The walls of Conway granite rise to a height of 70 to 90 feet and are 12 to 20 feet apart. The recent heavy rain had guaranteed that the water-flow would be spectacular and we were prepared for the walk which includes uphill walking and lots of stairs.
The Flume path consists of a wooden walkway suspended along the side of the cliff which takes visitors alongside the rushing stream, past whirlpools and waterfalls and over two covered bridges before ending in a pleasant forest trail loop.
If you’ve ever ridden a flume ride at the amusement park, you’ll get the basic idea. A “flume” is a geological feature formed when a plug of basalt is worn away from between two walls of harder granite—the result is a torrent of water in a steep gorge.
So after breakfast we set off – its worth mentioning at this point all our arrangements by American Driving Vacations had proved smooth and we had been expected at all our hotels, the payment voucher sometimes created more interest but was then accepted. It occurred to us at the time that we could produce similar vouchers ourselves and free-load our way across the USA – some people could get away with it but I know the tension at every check-in would destroy us.
The Flume was quite close to the hotel so we arrived mid-morning and were happy to take our time and enjoy the attraction fully. From the visitor centre onwards the Flume captivated us – looking back it was then that the whole New England experience took flight.
On a paved pathway towards the sound of running water we realised that the trees were turning through yellows towards red. Julia, the Geologist, marveled at a huge glacial boulder dropped next to the path many centuries ago then we met the water for the first time. It was flowing swiftly under a covered bridge. It truly was New England!
Since retirement we have enjoyed the digital camera but struggled to get the best from our newest camcorder, sites like the flume should change all that. Julia used the camcorder and, for once I, was envious of its potential – we must get into downloading video and assembling it into a watchable film of our exploits.
It’s fair to say that the flume teases its visitors, the lower reaches are impressive but each stage we progressed upward became more strikingly beautiful. We swapped sides of the stream by a the winding of the path and a series of bridges, each one temptingly placed to produce notable photos both up and down stream.
The level of water noise warned us of more to come but nevertheless we were shocked to see the path climbing under the sheer sides of the canyon. The falls were stunning and we were sprayed nearly all the time. On reaching the top past the most impressive falls which landed into deep pools before flowing on, we were again impressed by the thought behind the attraction’s design. Instead of simply retracing our steps, and experiencing that slight anti-climax of deciding if you need to take the same photo again this time coming down, we walked a forest path back to the visitor centre. Here we were above another mountain stream and able to watch kayakers tackling the currents and rapids. It was also amazing to see the substantial trees that appeared to be rooted through and round boulders into the soil below them.
Close to the end of our trek there was the Wolf’s Hole – a shortcut for those small enough or brave enough to crawl through – neither of us qualified but a young boy from California if his sweatshirt was to be trusted disappeared into it and later rushed back down the trail to his mother to claim victory over the cave!
We were back on the road again by noon and the journey passed pleasantly. We arrived in Bennington and checked into the Best Western New Englander Motel, we were placed in a smoking room on the extreme edge of the motel buildings but it turned out the place was fully booked so no transfer to non-smoking was possible.
We checked out our in-room information and we decided on seeing the Bennington Battle Memorial before dark and leaving Bennington’s other claim to fame, the Covered Bridges, until the following day.
We set off on foot but soon realised the distances were further than we had thought and returned for the car. We quickly found the memorial, hard to miss a 300 foot obelisk on top of a hill, and paid the requisite $2 to ride the elevator to the viewing deck. The view from the monument is excellent and there are openings through which it is possible to photograph without reflection or distortion caused by the glass of windows. On our way down the lift operator recognised us as English but pointed out that the troops fighting the Colonists at the battle of Bennington were mainly German mercenaries paid by the British. Knowing very little of the War of Independence I have since tried to research the incidents which we touched on our trip. This appears to be the story of the battle
Aware of the advancing British troops moving east toward Bennington, Stark, the American commander, decided to head them off rather than defend the supply depot at the Bennington site. Therefore, it was approximately five miles northwest of Bennington, near Walloomsac Heights in New York State, that the actual battle took place. Hampered by heavy rains, the British had halted their advance and were encamped on the south slope parallel to the Walloomsac River. General Stark, assessing the British position, sent detachments under Colonel Moses Nichols to circle Baum’s left, under Colonel Samuel Herrick to circle the right, and under Colonels David Hobart and Thomas Stickney to the south. Stark, with his remaining men, made the principal frontal attack. The fighting began at three o’clock on the afternoon of August 16th. The first shot was fired by Nichols’ battalion; and by five o’clock that evening, the British troops were retreating in disorder. Baum received a mortal wound at this stage of the battle and his demoralized troops surrendered. General Stark later described this engagement as “one continuous clap of thunder.” As General Stark was taking the captured and wounded enemy soldiers back to Bennington, Colonel Breymann appeared with a second unit of Burgoyne’s army, surprising Stark and his men. The Americans fought back; but exhausted and hungry, they slowly gave ground. Then suddenly, arriving overland from Manchester, Colonel Seth Warner and his Green Mountain Boys from Vermont came to their aid. With this additional help and reinforcement, the scales were tipped in the Americans’ favor and Breymann’s ranks gave way. By dusk they were fleeing, with the Americans in hot pursuit.
In a perverse parallel, as we were leaving the area we noted that the flags, state and national, which were being lowered had been flying at half-mast, I asked and was told that news had arrived from Afghanistan that an American soldier from Vermont had been killed that day and due to the battle’s links with Vermont, despite it being in New Hampshire, the flag was lowered as a mark of respect.
We returned to the hotel and found there were all the basic American restaurants available, Pizza Hut was in walking distance and it served our purpose well. We were disappointed not to be able to chill out with a beer and it seemed that the restaurant had been in the process of closing for the night since we walked in at 7.30pm. Another early night!

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 5: Franconia

2010-11-02T14:57:00.000-07:00

Sadly we got up to an unchanged weather situation. We had breakfast and stayed in the hotel hoping for the rain to ease. Fortunately there was a pool and hot-tub in the hotel and we were the only people taking advantage of them as all the coaches had disappeared before we woke.
It was mid-afternoon before the rain eased and we drove back into Littleton to take some photos having enjoyed the visit the previous night.
The amount of rain that had fallen meant that the river running through the town was high and wild. The photos taken from the Veterans’ Memorial Bridge and the covered bridge were impressive – large tree trunks were being carried downstream and had some of them hit the wooden bridge supports we would have felt the impact.
In some ways though I was more impressed by the memorial bridge, each of the rail supports across the width of the river commemorated with a metal plaque a fallen Littleton serviceman who has paid the supreme sacrifice in all wars.
Fifty men have been killed in action through the years. Last year the New Hampshire House of Representatives and New Hampshire Senate enacted a law naming the bridge on Cottage Street at the Town Building "The Veterans Memorial Bridge" honouring all veterans over the years who have served our country. Flag holders have been installed and these flags will be above the individual plaque. A larger plaque has been installed on the wall of the Town Building naming the "Veterans Memorial Bridge". Each of the organizations in town is being asked to participate in the fundraising of this project by soliciting their members for contributions to the fund and also to having a fund drive. In this way it is felt that every Littleton resident will have the opportunity to contribute to honoring these men.
There will also be a plaque honoring these who died in the service of their country by other causes: flu, pneumonia and typhoid, to name but a few.
The amount of respect shown by these little towns is moving and perhaps a lesson to many English towns and villages who have a neglected war memorial somewhere but no day-to-day concern about it.
I was so taken with Littleton I searched for references on the internet and discovered this article ranking it amongst classic “Main Street” towns.

Littleton, NH : What You'll Find:
An historic Inn. A 100-year old Opera House. Quaint shops, pubs, a sculpture of Pollyanna, and the longest candy counter in the world! Littleton's Main Street is one of the last "classic" Main Streets in New England. Parallel to Main Street, you'll find a working grist mill and the rolling rapids of the Ammonoosuc River.
Why You Should Go:
To dip your toes in the cold waters of the Ammonoosuc, pick up some pancake mix made at the Littleton Grist Mill, explore the walking trails of Littleton and drive along one of the official "scenic byways" of New Hampshire. Hold some old coins in your hand at the Littleton Coin Company, pick up some fresh fruit at the Farmer's Market during the summer, and stop in the Village Bookstore while you are there.
When we walked the classic “Main Street” we enjoyed the Diner again and took the photos that I had promised myself, we admired the huge and impressive post office which seems standard for all but the smallest settlements. We scouted some potential restaurants for that evening but were most intrigued by the wooden house with an old petrol pump on its porch alongside four various armchairs. We had assumed that the pump was purely for show but when I downloaded the picture to a full size screen you can see a notice above the mail slot which says, “Pay Here” so perhaps you can park on this drive and fill up your tank and pay by pushing the payment into the house through the letter box! It takes “self service” just one step further! It also implies a level of trust in ones neighbours which we found challenging, petrol pump, wooden house, serve yourself – tempting for the local arsonist and if they burnt down your house using the petrol you supplied you’d never be able to work out if they put payment through the mail slot!
On our way back to the hotel we explored Franconia – not a big task – the 2006 Census estimate for Franconia was only 1,036 residents, which ranked 184th among New Hampshire's incorporated cities and towns, we drove through the town and only saw one restaurant, the Dutch Treat. We checked out the menu and decided to eat there later that evening. We did notice that there was a singer advertised but since the restaurant was so close to the hotel we decided to risk it.
We arrived at the Dutch Treat and had the worst eating experience of the trip. I can only hope the owners were Dutch otherwise that’s two lies in the same title. The service was slow the food barely average and the worst of the experience was the singer in the bar. He sang many of our favourite songs unfortunately because they were our favourites we knew the words better than he did. His ability to carry a tune was worse than you would tolerate in a karaoke evening and the apathy of his audience was fully deserved. The only thing which impressed us in the whole experience was the “Trivial Pursuit” cards on each table – presumably we were supposed to wile away the hours waiting to be served questioning each other.
The evening was so bad it became funny, we watched new innocents arrive, be seated, and wait to win the lottery prize of a visit from the aging staff, with knowing tolerance. One family group played the establishment at their own game, they ordered then lost interest themselves and left without anyone noticing. Their food never arrived thus giving the restaurant the last laugh.
Despite the poor quality and the rural location the food was not cheap and the very drinkable beer was extortionate but we were able to save on the tip.
Since returning home I have googled the Dutch Treat and the reviews I found on Yahoo travel indicate that we were not the unluckiest people to eat there.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 4: Bar Harbor to Franconia

2010-11-02T14:55:00.000-07:00

Once again we breakfasted on the free buffet and since the pass we had purchased for Acadia was valid for a week we left it with the ageing hippy to be passed on to a new visitor as she deemed fit.
We made a prompt start with a view to stopping off on the way to Franconia in the White Mountains unfortunately the journey was made less pleasant by the return of the rain.
So we arrived at the Best Western White Mountain without having stopped and the rain had limited our appreciation of the scenic journey.
The hotel was in the style of a ski lodge situated above the busy metropolis of Franconia. The foyer was impressive and the room assigned to us was excellent with a microwave and fridge as well as a big TV.
We scanned the information in the room and slowly worked out that, in terms of eating dinner, there was one restaurant in Franconia, the Dutch treat, everything else was either to be ordered in through the reception desk or travel to a neighbouring town. We didn’t enjoy the thought of eating pizza in our room or being watched as we ate it in the foyer so we opted to drive out for dinner in Littleton.
Our views were totally confirmed by the arrival of three coaches during the course of the afternoon and the resultant influx of guests would have made for very little space in the public areas of the hotel.
It was a quick drive into Littleton and in the evening light it seemed an almost “Field of Dreams” moment when Kevin Costner is wandering round the small town of Chisholm and sees that the cinema is showing the premier of “The Godfather” and there are “Re-elect President Nixon” posters and he realizes he has gone back in time to 1972.
I checked out the cinema and it was showing modern movies but the illusion persisted. We parked on Main Street and we were debating what coins the parking meter took – we asked a passer-by who seemed amazed that we didn’t know they took quarters but he helpfully added that we shouldn’t need to feed it at night – a bit like “Gremlins” while we are on the film theme.
While Julia checked one side of the road I walked up the other and there were plenty of restaurants most of which would have been highly suitable but I had hit pay-dirt. On my side of the road was the Littleton Diner, it was so exactly like the one that featured in “The West Wing” when the group were election campaigning in New England. We got in quickly and they were happy to serve us despite it being well after seven and their closing at eight.
The food was cheap and filling but it was the general feel of the place which made it really memorable.
Although the diner had its roots in the past as this explains: Built in Merrimack, Ma in 1928 and transported to Littleton - where it opened in 1930. In 1940 a new Sterling Diner was constructed on the original site, where the Littleton Diner has been an integral part of the community since. They have brought a 21st century approach to marketing and had on sale all manner of merchandise including the staff T-shirt emblazoned with the motto:
Eat in Diners
Ride Trains
Shop on Main Street
Put a porch on your House
And Live in a walkable community
I resisted the temptation to buy the shirt but having got home to England I looked up their website and I can still order one.
On our return to the hotel we travelled the main road again but this time the rain had returned with a vengeance and to add to our concern the “Watch out for Moose” signs were now illuminated and we had no illusions about our small car brushing a moose aside if one crossed our path – nobody has ever concentrated harder than I did ready to make my trusty driver aware should a moose decide to involve itself in our lives.
We were booked in for two nights here so we retired to bed hoping for some clear weather the following day so that we could take advantage of the mountains all round us.

New England – Fall 2010 – Days 2&3: Kennebunk to Bar Harbor

2010-10-30T02:14:00.000-07:00

One of the battles we had fought with our travel agents in UK, DialAFlight, was based on the strange arrangement that they had agreed with their USA tour provider, American Driving Vacations, whereby we were to travel in hope and pick up all our information for the remainder of our tour at our first hotel. We had objected so strongly to this process, and kept on about it, to force DialAFlight to send us the details and fortunately I had downloaded it and printed it out. This meant that when our email reply from ADV was to go via the first hotel, Best Western Adams Inn, Quincy, on the way to the third, Best western Acadia, Bar Harbor, we decided against the detour that implied and continued on with what information we had.
We started by getting breakfast at the deli, Perfectos, on the next block to the hotel – the staff were most helpful even though we had to give them lessons in tea-making. We had a great bacon bagel and were soon in conversation with two local guys who gave us several travel hints. They also told us “if you don’t like the weather wait a minute”. We walked up and down the Main Street in the thin rain just to say we had seen the place but then decided to move on.
Having checked out of the hotel we followed our friends’ directions to Kennebunkport. It was very quiet and we started to realise that while much is made of New England in the Fall in truth it seemed that the holiday season was all but over by the end of September.
We paid to park in an almost empty parking lot and ventured into the town. There was a mist over the place which I hoped would lend itself to some moody photos but the results didn’t repay my creative optimism. Nevertheless it was a fascinating experience, much of the town is built on wooden stilts driven into tidal mudflats and the wooden walkways between buildings can be at any height, thus you can leave an establishment on the first floor and appear in the next two flights up.
As the day cleared there was a bit more activity but still very few cars were parked as we set off towards the sea shore to view Goose Island. This time we parked easily and nobody even thought to charge us. At this more remote area the feel was of a real working harbour which had no need of, nor courted, any commercial tourism. The boats were small working fishing boats and they were coming and going in pursuit of their trade. The only concessions to commercialism, if that’s what it was, were houses which were decorated by brightly painted floats and other fishing equipment.
As the weather continued to improve we set off to reach our next destination.
Its worth noting that in most journeys in England if you set off reasonably early you almost have a day to spend at your destination, in America often the travelling takes up the day and you only expect to sleep when you arrive.
This time we were hoping to have time to do some exploring after checking into our hotel but the final hour of the trip was dimmed by the return of the rain and we checked into the Best Western Acadia just outside Bar Harbour at about 4.00pm. From the folksy do-it-yourself approach in Kennebunk we drove into a motel which looked to represent corporate America but appearances did deceive, the motel rooms were brilliantly designed and the staff were helpful even to the point of directing us to the coffee free in the lounge all day and the regular shipment of free cookies in the afternoon.
The light rain persisted long enough to cancel any sightseeing that afternoon but we still needed to come to terms with the disjointed sleep-patterns so we napped before going out to the recommended restaurant, the Chart Room, which we found easily on the way in towards Bar Harbor.
We arrived without a reservation so we couldn’t expect a waterside table and indeed the place was very busy so we were seated on the road side of the restaurant. As was to become the pattern, we ate well but not cheaply, and the meals were not the huge, you wont need to eat again this week, portions which we were accustomed to in Oklahoma and Texas. In those places it is almost obligatory to leave with the uneaten part of the meal in a box to fight off hunger in future – also it was suggested to us that any meal of $10 or over could be split between a couple and the establishment would provide plates and silverware fort the purpose without question. In the Chart Room I ate a main course, “Baked Stuffed Haddock - Baked and stuffed with our Seafood Stuffing topped with our wonderful Shrimp Sauce $18.95” it was excellent and filling enough but Texans would have used it as an appetizer and expected to pay $6 for it. When we realised that two taxes were still to be added to the tariff and in the USA 20% is the expected tipping level we had to come to terms with the idea that most evening meals were going to break the $60 mark.
It was our first exposure to New England dinning and we noticed that a full restaurant at 7.30pm is emptying by 9.00 and very few new diners arrive after 8.00, this seemed to be the case nearly everywhere we went.
The following morning the weather had improved and we set out to the free buffet breakfast before investigating the Acadia National park. Breakfast was very nice and made better by the waitress, an older lady who really just kept everything topped up and explained the best features of the park to nearly every table of guests. She remarked at one point that she had been a hippy in the day and had never expected to be alive in 2010 so she still needed to work.
We followed her recommendations and entered the park. We paid our $20 for the carload, just two in our case, the lady at the desk asked if we had any over 60’s with us, this would have reduced our costs but, helpful as she was, she was unable to rent us such a person.
We left the visitors centre and set off round the Park Loop Road, the first stretch of this is one-way and alongside the coast, from this high position we could see a cruise ship anchored in Bar Harbor and when we parked to see Thunder Hole there were groups of cruisers labeled with their bus numbers. Thunder Hole is a small inlet, naturally carved out of the rocks, where the waves roll into. At the end of this inlet, down low, is a small cavern where, when the rush of the wave arrives, air and water is forced out like a clap of distant thunder. Water may spout as high as 40 feet with a thunderous roar! Hence the name: Thunder Hole. It wasn’t our day, or time of day, to hear thunder but it is a great view of the cliffs and rocky coastline and the weather was cooperating by providing great light.
We continued round our circuit and turned into the parking area at Jordan Pond. At the Jordan Pond House we were supposed to tackle a popover for lunch but the place was packed and we sacrificed this unknown delight to walk round the lake which proved much further than advertised. While the people were suddenly plentiful in the area the wildlife had taken a break leaving their sole representative, a cormorant, to sit contentedly on a tree stump, I imagine his popover lay heavily in his stomach.
On the Jordan House side of the lake the path became a board walk of one, two or three plank’s width, the planks were slippery in places but my poor choice of footwear, sandals, on gravel paths found much less problem with the planks.
When we got back into the car we drove up the Cadillac Mountain Road to the summit, where we were rewarded with great views an all directions. I include the following mainly for its final line!
At 1,532 feet, Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park is the highest point along the North Atlantic seaboard and is the first place to view sunrise in the United States from October 7 through March 6. Cadillac Mountain is largely composed of pink granite with forests of spruce and pitch pine. Views of Acadia National Park from the top of the mountain are spectacular. Bar Harbor, Maine, the most well known town on Mount Desert Island, is to the northeast. The Cranberry Islands are to the southwest. The winding and scenic road that ascends to the top of Cadillac Mountain is approximately 3.5 miles long and was officially opened in 1931. During the 1880's, there was a slow cog railway excursion to the summit, but unfortunately, due to a much faster descent, it was short lived. The wreckage of the winding gear is still there to be seen, it was hard enough to get it up there we could hardly expect anyone to bring it down just to tidy up.
After our descent we found our way out of the park and into Bar Harbor. In the dock area we were able to watch a Holland America Line cruise ship tendering her passengers to and from the ship at anchor in the bay. There was also a four-masted sailing ship returning from a shorter cruise round the islands. Apparently the Margaret Todd sails three times a day for a two hour cruise at $35 per head but the evening cruise is clearly the best value as free cheese is provided, is there anyone out there who can eat $35 worth of cheese?
All in all we found Bar Harbor beguiling but we didn’t spot anywhere obvious to eat in the evening, so when we returned to the motel we looked at the restaurant guide and selected a place, the Town Hill Bistro, on the land side of the motel. Following remembered directions from the map we left in the motel room we began to lose hope of success as everywhere seemed dark and deserted, and then we recognised a landmark, the Brewing Company, and shortly after pulled into the small parking lot. The Restaurant was in a small outbuilding and there was a short debate between two of the staff if we could be accommodated at such short notice but greed prevailed and we were given a table. The food was good but the homemade bread overshadowed it – superb and it kept coming while we waited for our main courses. The meal again broke the $60 barrier but we were already starting to expect that. We were full as we returned to the motel and asleep by 10.00pm.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 1: LHR to Boston - New Start.

2010-10-29T09:16:00.001-07:00

After a slow breakfast and a leisurely morning we caught the hotel hopper to the terminal and were in more than adequate time to check in our baggage and pass through security to wait for our flight.
This journey was ground-breaking because our struggle with carrying our bags on our recent cruise and the realization that we were the last people in the world without wheeled baggage had persuaded us to purchase bags with both handles and wheels. Thus my huge stock of Prince kit bags will remain in our loft until such time as they become historic exhibits in their own right.
We joined our flight without problems and, when we were in the air, a PA announcement asked us to make ourselves known to the cabin crew. We were then greeted by the senior stewardess and given our friend’s best wishes – the cabin crew then looked after us very well serving us champagne and chocolates.
Without these special kindnesses we would still have been well impressed with the Virgin treatment that we received it was a very pleasant journey.
We flew out of LHR at about 15.15 and because the time change was on our side we arrived in the USA at about 17.45.
On arrival in Boston we passed through Immigration and Customs painlessly and quickly found our way to the shuttle bus and on it to the car hire depots.
We were booked with Hertz and we had been advised that we needed to reprint our car voucher rather than present yesterday’s – the faint printing of the hotel machine was still acceptable and we were assigned a Chevy Aveo Sedan which seemed almost brand new. It is about the size of a Ford Focus and easily accommodated our two major bags and all hand luggage in its trunk.
We must have appeared to be veterans of this process because the couple behind us was collecting their car and setting out to drive in the states for the first time and they asked us for any advice. We tried to help but when they told us that they had no SatNav we were concerned as to how they would manage. I had switched my SatNav on in the office not to find our way to the desk but to let the device find itself, to speed our progress when we had the car.
We set off from the depot by about 19.30 and we were aiming at our second day’s hotel – The Kennebunk Inn in Kennebunk, Maine. This was a problem in itself because it was further from the airport than the first hotel and also the tour details that we needed to proceed we waiting for us at the first hotel. We now had a two hour journey in front of us in a miserable damp evening. We were not prepared for there being roundabouts in New England as all our American friends had claimed to have met them for the first time driving in England – I guess the clue is in the name – New England.
Our navigation was excellent and we arrived quicker than the SatNav expected, we parked behind the property and walked round to the front door on Main Street. The door was open but there were no other signs of life, we wandered the ground floor and in the office area were two envelopes one of which had our name on it. Inside was our room key and bill. I wrote on the invoice that we had paid in advance and we took possession of our room.
It was quaint and for the only time on our tour we used a real key.
After depositing our luggage and sending an email request to American Driving Vacations for our tour details to be forwarded to a later hotel, we set out into the drizzle to find sustenance, and possible a beer.
Two blocks up the Main Street we found both at Duffy’s Tavern and Grill. The disturbed eating pattern of the day was such that we only required a bedtime snack but the place was pleasant and the regulars came and went while we kept half an eye on the Packers losing from a winning position against the Chicago Bears.

New England – Fall 2010 – Day 1: LHR to Boston

2010-10-26T12:58:00.000-07:00

Our flight to Boston was with Virgin Atlantic for the first time ever and we were due to leave these shores at 15.15. We set off from Hilton by 10.15 despite having promised ourselves to be on the road by 10.00 but we made good progress down the M1 and joined the M25 with no problem little knowing what was in store for us.
My father was a great reader of history and his contention was that the really notable disasters usually come about when in a chain of circumstances every link goes bad rather than good. Scott would have survived his return from the South Pole but for bad luck upon bad luck and the Titanic would have survived if the lookout had seen the iceberg earlier or later.
Our disaster cannot rank with these but in our experience it is hopefully unique – therefore notable – we missed our flight because everything that could have saved us went wrong.
We had set off earlier than necessary having been warned of roadworks in the area of Purple Parking where we regularly leave our car some 15 minutes from Heathrow but those roadworks were to win out against our precautions.
As we left the M1 we heard on the radio there had been a serious accident on the M4 close to the final leg of our journey, we had no way to avoid the M4 so we pressed on. We passed the Airport turnoff and were able to leave the motorway at the correct junction – we thought briefly that we were in luck – but we quickly found almost gridlock as traffic that had been diverted from the blocked motorway merged into the already congested area and progress to Purple Parking was painfully slow.
When we reached the parking lot we sat for over twenty minutes in the next minibus to our terminal before the driver arrived – we then set off and again the slow progress was grueling. The minibus took advantage of the bus lanes and local knowledge to drop us at the terminal by about 14.00.
We located the Virgin Baggage drop for all flights and took our place at the end of a line blessing the fact that we had checked in online. We noted the time was now close to the one hour before flight when the baggage check closed for our flight but there were still many people in front of us and we hoped that some of them were trying to get to Boston. We were further encouraged when passengers to Los Angeles were pulled out of the line to get their luggage checked in – we thought briefly that pretty much all the flights were being delayed.
As we reached the head of the line the hour deadline had passed and on presenting our documents we were told we were very late and needed to get to desk 19. At this desk we were told that the flight had closed and we had limited choices. Either fly to New York and transfer to Boston by internal flight, which we would have to pay for, or fly the following day on the same flight. We chose the latter and paid the £50 each to change our flights, we were allocated seats but we could not confirm them by online check in because it was not yet within 24 hours of the flight.
Before I move on to the arrangements we made to sort out our situation I need to clarify that our “disaster” was an inconvenience and the serious accident on the M4 cost three people their lives so I hope we managed some grace and sense of proportion in our upset.
Incidentally the modern generation of mobile phone users would have contacted Purple Parking as soon as the radio warned them and switched their depot parking to “Meet & Greet” and driven straight to the terminal leaving the car wherever they were told, to be picked up by Purple Parking and returned to us when we flew back but I don’t think like that. The damage was already done when I phoned my travel agent, DialAFlight and made sure the first hotel and the car hire were cancelled for that day.
While Julia got on the internet using her credit card and a public PC I went to find the Hotel Desk, they offered little hope of a reasonable solution to our accommodation problem, a local hotel would be at least £150 room only and if we were prepared to be over 20 minutes away it was still £95. I was unimpressed and may have mentioned it to the smirking operator. Meanwhile Julia had got the number for a local Premier Inn which charged only £52 for the night and sorted out the entire booking over the phone – impressive.
We grabbed a taxi to the hotel and signed up for their meal package at £21 each which provided a three course dinner and a full breakfast. I have to say the hotel was excellent and we will look to use them in the future possibly for a two or three day stay ahead of any future flights to avoid any risk of repeating this debacle.
It was at the hotel we discovered that a kind friend who works for Virgin had arranged us to be upgraded on our flight and was now worried about us.
We watched Newcastle United, whom I have a soft spot for, lose at home to Stoke City, whom I don’t, so life felt less than good as we retired for an early night on the wrong side of the Atlantic.

Our First Cruise - Wednesday 19/05/2010 Katakolon and Olympus

2010-07-08T14:56:00.000-07:00

As a final highlight of our cruise we had booked the Ancient Olympus tour from Katakolon. We were to meet on the dock side at 8.40am and this time Richard and Margaret were booked on the same tour, like school kids we arranged for whoever got there first would save seats for the others. We were running nicely to time as we swiped off the ship and started across the dock towards the coaches, it was then that Julia remembered that she had left the tour tickets in the cabin. She rushed back while I waited on the dock; we made it in time and joined Richard and Margaret on the bus.
Our guide was another enthusiast and she spent the hour’s journey giving us interesting notes on the area and preparing us for Olympus. The main thrust of her talk was that our trip was in two very different parts. The first place we would see was the old stadium which was very damaged by weather and earthquakes while the second part of the tour is the museum where everything is genuine and in great condition. She was also the best dressed of all our guides but more of that later.
The facts bore out her words but both venues were impressive in their different ways. At the old stadium we saw where the modern Olympic flame is lit using a mirror as a focus of the sun’s rays, we had explained to us the nature of the various buildings which according to our guide, and disputed by Julia, had been covered by twelve metres of silt. Twelve metres, about forty feet in old money, does seem like a lot but I wouldn’t argue with the expert. She explained how the site was in the progress of being restored and rebuilt and how most parts had been identified but they had never found the Hippodrome where the horse back events had taken place even though it was recorded as being three times the size of the athletics area.
We stood outside the arch which is all that remains of the tunnel into the arena and she explained that there had been two lines of statues facing each other like a guard of honour before the tunnel except that on the left side were the winners who had won honourably and thus had been made for life when they returned to the city that they had represented so well but on the right were the convicted cheats who brought shame, and the expense of building this statue, to their city.
Her other explanation was given to save us embarrassment, the races were all run straight or there and back like swimming but the stone line across the track at the end nearer to the entrance is the finish not the start, I don’t know how I would have got over it if I’d run the wrong way!
Talking about embarrassment, she reminded us that the runners and all performers were naked, I heard Stephen Fry dispute this but he was talking about nothing that Nike would produce now! Nike, of course, got a mention as the Goddess of Victory which she pointed out was ironic as all these naked performers were men and there were no women allowed even as spectators! She was prepared to stretch a point on this but as a group we were not that determined to be authentic so we stayed fully dressed. All four of us ran the Olympic straight but no records were broken.
We also noted that the normal spectators sat on the grass banks but there was a VIP area with stone steps to sit on!
As a nod to tradition when the modern games were hosted in Greece the ladies Shot Put was held in the old stadium, I didn’t ask but I’m confident they competed in their normal kit otherwise there would have been a huge row from their kit sponsors!
We progressed from the arena to the museum where as she had told us the relics were all genuine and in excellent condition, they had been excavated from the Olympic site. Julia was fascinated by the marble statues but perhaps more so by a model of the stadium area at the time of the games.
Our enjoyment of the museum was disturbed by one of our party feeling unwell and, as our guide went to help her, throwing up, the guide in her smart leather jacket took the hit! While the others took the young girl into the fresh air Julia became a human barrier to avoid anyone slipping on the mess – trust a junior school teacher in an emergency!
We returned to Katakolon by 1.00pm, the ill young girl was sitting right behind us and she nearly made it back but….
Meanwhile Richard and Margaret had booked a lesson with one of the fitness instructors so Julia and I checked out the shops and bars in the port. We had a nice walk round the shops and bought a souvenir or two, we then walked down a row of quayside bars and chose one at random. We had a beer each which appeared without the condensation which indicates a properly cold beverage, as we drank it we noticed the bar next door had the well frosted glasses we lacked and then, to add insult to injury, people in the same bar were served with colder drinks than us. We were then charged the most we paid anywhere despite other bars advertising very reasonable prices. Being English I didn’t complain at the time but if the bar owner reads this let him hang his head in shame. The only balance to this injustice is that I took one of my best ever photographs from that bar looking out towards the Ocean Village with a small fishing boat in the foreground.
We then returned to the ship, that evening we had to pack our entire hold luggage and put both bags into the corridor before 10.00pm, this is a well thought-out policy because it just about guarantees that you have some clothes, even if its those you went to dinner in, left after the luggage fairies take possession of your luggage, imagine if you packed after changing for bed, you could spend a half day on the ship and travel in your night wear!
The cabaret was described as risqué this evening and to me it failed badly in its conception and execution. Why anyone thought that a more adult theme would go well with the cruising fraternity I cannot imagine. The same wholesome entertainment team as led the trips and called the bingo numbers were now more scantily clad and looking somewhat embarrassed by the whole venture. The few younger families on the cruise during school time retreated and the rest of us, some much older than us, were unimpressed by the production. It had a half-hearted feel to the whole thing as if it was in response to a directive from above that nobody felt supportive of. It was the least impressive show of any kind we saw on the boat and not the finale to our cruise that might have left us wanting more.

Our First Cruise - Tuesday 18/05/2010 Corfu

2010-07-08T13:39:00.000-07:00

We woke to the captain’s announcement that once again the winds were too strong for the liner to dock but this time he was prepared to use the tenders to take us ashore.
We waited the customary hour before boarding a tender and it was the one which took the ship’s soccer team ashore to play Corfu University, the players were mainly Philippians but the Robbie Williams was also playing – he had brought the kit on board after some problem with the intended strip. We later learnt that they lost 1-3. As we crossed to the shore the heavens opened and it rained hard. We got off the tender and took shelter on a veranda in front of one of the port buildings. Some of the passengers remained on the shuttle and went straight back to the ship, no adventure in their souls!
We remained under cover for some minutes then as it seemed to ease we set off, most of the group walked but Julia and I grabbed a taxi. When we complained about the weather the driver told us that on Tuesdays as a part of the EU financial bale out of Greece the government had agreed to a day of German weather! He dropped us off next to a tunnel through the town wall and when we raced through it we were in the centre of town. The rain stopped in the next half hour.
As the weather cleared we decided to go up to the castle which dominates the town and harbour. As we approached we both remarked on the similarity to the smaller fortress at Terezin, clearly it was a similar design but it lacked the menace!
We were delighted to discover that the castle was open to the public and free on this particular day. We continued up as high as possible and eventually stood next to the flag pole at the highest point of the castle and the island. The view over the harbour and town were spectacular, it is easy to see why it was positioned there, it would hasve been impossible to sneak up on the defenders and the climb up to the castle would have left the attackers fully exposed to the defenders’ fire.
We noted that there seemed to be a huge number of cannon barrels scattered round the castle, some set up on wooden mounts as if to fire out to sea or into the town, some abandoned on the ground in heaps but most strangely were the gun barrels sunk into the ground to anchor other structures like huge tent pegs.
From the castle we walked down it the town, noting on the way that cars were parked everywhere including on pedestrian crossings!
We stopped in a small square and had a long cold beer as a reward for braving the rain and scaling the castle.
We then walked back to the harbour where we caught a shuttle back to the ship. On returning to our cabin we found some handmade chocolates on the bed with a compliments slip from the chef. We had afternoon tea with Richard and Margaret but they had received no such gift!
Although we decided to give the acrobats doing their “Planet Show” on deck 12 a miss that night we enjoyed watching them set up for the show, it was amazing how they maneuvered round the high structures rigging their ropes and swings.
We decided to make sure we were well positioned in the Marquee to get a good seat for the late night comedy so we were there when the entertainments staff did a “Speed Bingo” which is a license to print money. The punters pay £10 per bingo card and the total prize is only £200, shared between any simultaneous winners. They only have to sell 20 cards to break even and I estimated there were at least 200 people playing!
The comedian, Dave Buck, was very funny and we went to bed happy.

Our First Cruise - Monday 17/05/2010 Korcula

2010-07-07T07:14:00.000-07:00

Korcula was our first chance to experience Croatia after missing Dubrovnik. There was no dock on the island big enough top accommodate the Ocean Village so we were to be tendered off the ship to the island. Those who had booked excursions left the ship first and we joined a queue in Connexions to be given a number, we got our number but had to wait in the bar until it was called. Each shuttle boat hold about 100 people and doubles as a life boat in an emergency and there are four shuttles. We waited about an hour before boarding the shuttle down a rickety gang plank, considering some of the passengers are on sticks and a few in wheelchairs the crew do a great job to get the shuttles loaded safely. The shuttles plied back and forth from the ship to the small harbour and the loading and unloading took more time than the crossing so only three shuttles were used and there was always one standing off either the ship or the jetty.
Having landed we entered the town through a city gate and immediately noticed the Lion of Venice as Korcula had been a province of Venice and had a wealthy Venetian community amongst the islanders.
We enjoyed the quiet ambience of the town and bought ourselves a small water colour to remind us of it. We visited Marco Polo’s tower but did not enter – too mean again! We went into several churches and were impressed by their ornate decoration, as an aside, I was impressed by my camera on museum setting, not only is the flash suppressed but it operates silently also.
We chose to have a beer on the water’s edge below where the city walls would have been but were no longer. Julia’s research yielded the information that the locals had argued with the wealthy Venetian residents as to which group should pay for the upkeep of the walls, the Venetians refused to contribute and the locals demolished all but the watch towers!
It was on the windy side and quite cloudy but we enjoyed our visit.
Throughout the cruise we were always impressed by the crew and their helpfulness, the seamen crewing the shuttles were another illustration of this; they were very attentive to all the passengers.
Back on the ship our Sail Away was different to previous ones instead of coming out of a port often with the assistance of tugs we simply sailed between the scattered islands and onward with the mainland coast of Greece on one side of us.
On the ship after dinner we went to the Marquee and watched a Robbie Williams tribute act, not totally my thing but you had to be impressed by his energy!

Our First Cruise - Sunday 16/05/2010 Venice

2010-07-07T05:55:00.000-07:00

We needed to bounce back after the disappointment of missing Dubrovnik but we had high hopes of Venice being able to do just that. One of the reasons that the captain had not pushed on harder to arrive sooner in Venice was that he was timed to arrive at 8.00am and he announced that this would be an experience to remember. We had spoken to many people on the cruise and we had asked anyone who had done our second week before us for their tips, we remembered to get on deck early for Venice and on the starboard side.
By 7.00am the light was great and we were entering the Grand Canal, there was no heat in the sun so we wore jackets but the views lit us up. The carefully selected Italian opera music coming through ther PA system was a magical addition to the scenery. We passed close by St Mark’s Square and later were able to identify many of the definitive Venice landmarks. We saw rank after rank of gondolas not yet in use and by 8.00pm we were berthed and decided to have breakfast. It was one of those times when you felt genuinely sorry for other passengers just getting up and wandering into breakfast with no idea what they had missed.
I had a problem the solution of which was a great success, I had run out of Lithium AA batteries and the normal “High Power” were struggling to do a day’s photography so with our tour leaving the quayside at 11.50am we resolved to walk to the nearest shops and buy some batteries. By 10.00am we were off the ship and following the crowd on foot leaving the port gates. Our frustration was that everyone else seemed to be dragging their luggage with them and so peacefully co-existing with them on a narrow pavement was tricky. Just when we wondered if we would ever get to shops we left the heavily industrial area of the port and were entranced by the canals and old buildings. There were shops a plenty and we found a camera shop where I bought two Lithium batteries for eight euros I felt this was excessive but I paid without hesitation; not being confident of the camera in this photographic goldmine would have been agony.
In a small shop down an alley just off the main canal, there are canals and alleys in Venice, no substantial roads; we spotted licquorice sold by the metre we bought 1metre for 2 euros but it did not survive the journey home to England.
We paced our return to the ship so that we could be on the quayside at 11.45 and therefore ready for our motor launch into St Mark’s Square. We were amused to see motor boats racing past us from other liners to the canal system loaded with luggage – you had to think does it all get to its destination and is it dry when it does?
We were gathered on the dock and then issued with trip numbers, two trips were embarked on the same motor launch and the two guides outlined the basics of the trip making sure that we knew where the boats would return from and when, I have to say however, these were the least enthusiastic guides we encountered on the cruise I hope this was reflected in their level of pay!
We docked about 300 metres past St Mark’s square and we were handed over to a guide for the Doge’s Palace and the Basilica, his knowledge and enthusiasm were right back to the standards that we had come to expect. He walked us along the canal side towards St Mark’s Square, on the way we passed Vivaldi’s house but he did not come out to see us.
We passed the Bridge of Sighs which links the Doge’s Palace to the jail and as one of the sights I had looked forward to seeing it was an anti-climax but the Doge’s Palace more than made up for that, we were allowed to photograph in the courtyard and in some parts of the building so I was grateful that I had solved the battery situation.
Our guide attempted to tell us how the Doge was elected but did admit that it was complicated, at present Britain is under the control of a coalition government which is looking at election reform so I, having a general interest in these things, referred to Wikipedia, this seems like an ideal way to proceed:
New regulations for the elections of the doge introduced in 1268 remained in force until the end of the republic in 1797. Their object was to minimize as far as possible the influence of individual great families, and this was effected by a complex elective machinery. Thirty members of the Great Council, chosen by lot, were reduced by lot to nine; the nine chose forty and the forty were reduced by lot to twelve, who chose twenty-five. The twenty-five were reduced by lot to nine and the nine elected forty-five. Then the forty-five were once more reduced by lot to eleven, and the eleven finally chose the forty-one who actually elected the doge.
I imagine that has clarified the situation for all of us!
As I understand this the Doge was the senior magistrate and ruler of Venice but he had his power limited by the other members of the governing body.So he was somewhere between a president and a modern king acting as the Head of State.
The Palace was an impressive tour during which we crossed the Bridge of Sighs and sampled briefly the delights of the mediaeval prison.
When we emerged from the Palace it was intended for the same guide to take us round the Basilica but he was unable to do so. As sometimes happens the wind or tide had caused the Square to be flooded and the Basilica was closed to avoid water damage. We had more time on our hands than we had expected but it passed quickly as we wandered in the city. We were too mean to indulge in a Gondola ride at 60 euros but we did see plenty of them on our walk.
When we returned to The Grand Canal there was a wedding party having their official photographs taken using the canal as a back drop. It was interesting to see that the mother of the bride seemed more in charge of the proceedings than either the bride or the photographer, don’t even consider that the groom could have been in charge.
We returned to the ship and, in due course, with or without the captain’s, “enough turns on the rubber band…..” this was a Sail Away not to be missed. We were enchanted by Venice and we could find no support for people who insist that the canals are dirty and smelly, we were close enough to check that and we never got that impression.
In the evening we continued our film-going with “Men who stare at Goats” I knew it was an offbeat offering so we sat for six minutes with no picture on the screen, just the dialogue, asuming this to be the directors intention it was not, eventually the error was spotted and the film restarted with both sight and hearing catered for. It wasn’t a great improvement but the film was saved from bottom place in our list by Sherlock Holmes.

Our First Cruise - Saturday 15/05/2010 Dubrovnik

2010-07-06T13:09:00.000-07:00

Our excitement in seeing Dubrovnik was built up by everyone we mentioned our cruise to telling us what a highlight it was going to be. It wasn’t, we were barely awake when the ship’s tannoy cut across our thoughts, the captain announced that due to 60mph wind we were unable to dock in Dubrovnik and with those winds he was unable to launch his shuttle boats so we were steaming on and had another day at sea. Our timing for Dubrovnik was the shortest on the cruise docking at 8.00am and leaving at 2.30pm, it obviously meant that there was not much leeway in our schedule for the ship to see if things improved.
We are by now seasoned travellers and accustomed to making the best of things so we sulked, long and hard.
We continued our self-inflicted Detox programme with light meals and no alcohol and although the entertainment staff put on extra events there was nothing which attracted us.
Every conversation reinforced the feeling that we had missed out on something special; people were either like us expecting great things due to what they had been told or veterans of Dubrovnik who waxed lyrical about it. We are resolved to catch up with the city that the wind had cheated us of.
In the afternoon we were driven below decks by quite a hard shower and the decks were awash with water all afternoon.
The ship showed the Cup Final in the bar but we went to the cinema instead, watching “Did you hear about the Morgans?” with Hugh Grant playing Hugh Grant, that’s what he does but now there is no reference in the script to explain his obvious English origin. If anyone wants to see Hugh Grant at his best they should stick to the classics, I recommend “Four Weddings and a Funeral” and “Notting Hill”. This film however, was a reasonable way to spend ninety minutes out of a day with very little going on. The Cup Final finished 1-0 to Chelsea, winners of the Premiership, over Portsmouth, relegated from the Premiership but for much of that game there was very little going on also.
Julia and I decided that enough was enough and officially ended our sulk at dinner, which we enjoyed, and followed up with the Chapman Brothers in the Marquee who performed songs from the sixties and seventies in the Soul and Motown style.

Our First Cruise - Friday 14/05/2010 at Sea

2010-07-06T12:10:00.001-07:00

From Crete we knew that there was a day’s sailing before we had any ports in prospect and we planned a very lazy day. We had heard fog horns through the night so the weather seemed more uncertain than it had been.
We got up late, breakfasted slowly, read our emails and found a quiet spot to read; ironically it was right next to the Gym which was seldom busy, although you could sit on a static bicycle and pretend that you were powering the ship forward as you had a great view over the bows. It strikes me now that the equipment could have been wired into the ship’s power supply on the basis that “every little helps”.
We had decided on an alcohol free day and that would also help the on-ship account.
In a programme of activities that we had otherwise no interest in we were resolved to go to the digital camera lecture again in order to see if there was anything additional to pick up, so we forgot!!! We remembered exactly as it would have been finishing, which added to our frustration.
It was a hot day and the sun decks were packed so there was little attraction to going on deck so I downloaded another batch of photographs onto our laptop on the basis that losing the camera would be disaster enough without having to repeat the cruise to recapture the memories.
We had an early dinner and an early night as we were very much looking forward to an early start in Dubrovnik the following day.

Our First Cruise - Thursday 13/05/2010 Crete

2010-07-06T11:51:00.000-07:00

We were back in Crete where we had joined the ship one week before. Some of the passengers were leaving the boat having done one week and some having done two; we had our second week still to come. The previous night we had noticed that luggage appeared outside cabin doors and more magically it disappeared during the evening. Now at breakfast about half the passengers were burdened by their hand luggage. In the internet café in the Village Square there had been three or four novels balanced on the window ledge now both window ledges overflowed with books as the more selfish readers finally returned their completed books rather than carry them home. All the above was explained by the simple fact - It was Change-Over day!
After breakfast we wandered into Heraklion and, using an internet walk and the ship’s map of the town, we explored quite successfully.
We returned to the ship in the early afternoon and found it to be more crowded than the previous week, in the hot tub we chatted to a couple who claimed to have taken the last cabin on the ship when volcanic ash stopped them flying out to the cruise they had booked.
On the subject of the Volcanic Ash Cloud, it closed the UK airports on a Thursday, Julia and I were in Edinburgh doing a basketball tournament but had driven there unlike many people who had travelled by air. Thursday was the Crete changeover for Ocean Village and let’s say half her passengers were due to fly home while none were able to fly in to join the ship. The company offered those due to disembark two choices, stay in a hotel in Crete until flights were restored or pay £200 pounds for another week on the ship. We would have done the second even if we had been on for two weeks but imagine the delight of people who had only booked one week!
Everywhere seemed more pressurized by the full complement of passengers but gradually things settled down. After an early dinner we watched “Sherlock Holmes” the Guy Richie film in the cinema, in my opinion this film needs a good leaving alone it was easily the worst film we endured on the cruise.
We then tried to catch the latest comedian, Martin Beaumont, but he was opening in Connexions and the place was packed. We retreated for a snack and tea in the Plantation restaurant before heading to bed.

Our First Cruise - Wednesday 12/05/2010 Athens

2010-07-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

To go with the threat of volcanic ash stopping us flying back to the UK, not a threat that bothered us as we were more than willing to spend another week at sea if the price was right, there was also trouble in Greece. There had been rioting in the streets in protest over the financial situation. We had waited to see if the ship would dock in Piraeus and, further, if the trips to Athens were cancelled. In fact Ocean Village split the difference by arriving in Piraeus as scheduled but the independent traveller trip to Athens was cancelled. This was no problem to us as we had booked an escorted tour of Athens.
We travelled on a coach from the port into Athens and our first port of call was the new Olympic stadium where the Olympic flame is given to new Olympic hosts having been relayed from the ancient Olympic stadium where the flame is lit.
From the stadium we could look up and see the Acropolis on the highest point of the city. Apart from the grandeur of the new stadium it had modern facilities and we were urged to take advantage of the toilets before moving onto the Acropolis. Many of our party did so and soon there was a long queue at both facilities but much longer for the Ladies’ than the Men’s, I emerged from one of the two cubicles and wondered if I was the one in error as there were several German ladies inside our sanctum, clearly the whole order of civilization had broken down. Julia not known for her rebellious nature, applauded their initiative, and soon one queue was female and the other mixed.
Our coach which had dropped us off some 100 yards down the street from the stadium had to move forward as each bus ahead moved off; the driver was now in a state of apprehension as he was at the front of the line and didn’t have his full complement of ladies.
When we moved off, all complete, we went through the centre of the city and had several points of interest pointed out to us notably the Hadrian’s Arch and the Parliament building which had featured in the unrest. We were also shown our final meeting point if we got separated at any point.
The bus let us off at the foot of the Acropolis and we walked up the 80 plus steps to reach the amazing view of the Parthenon. It was so impressive as was the knowledge of our guide another real enthusiast, her most striking fact, in my view, was that the Parthenon which looks so square and straight actually has no straight lines in its design and if it did have the building would look curved, I cannot explain this and I couldn’t see it even when see told us what to look at!
We wandered around the plateau and the views up there and then down onto the city were incredible. We then made our way down to the base of the Acropolis where our guide took us to Hadrian’s Arch and turned us loose to shop or whatever.
Julia, the intrepid, took control of our party of two and we set off towards the Parliament building when the guard changes every hour and is therefore a major tourist attraction. We passed an excavated roman villa which had been found when the underground railway was modernized. We walked down streets that still bore the scars of the riots, a large bank had been burnt out and everywhere there were boarded up or cracked windows. As we approached the Parliamentary building we heard the noise of unrest and, sure enough, there was a noisy demonstration of about 100 people yelling slogans at the front of the building. Riot police were poised to either side, ready top step in if the crowd rushed the guards, and the protesters were being filmed for future reference. We decided to remain in range and wait for the changing of the guard on the hour.
To describe the guards I will quote Wickapedia again:
The Evzones, is the name of several historical elite light infantry and mountain units of the Greek Army. Today, it refers to the members of the Presidential Guard, an elite ceremonial unit that guards the Greek Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the Hellenic Parliament and the Presidential Mansion. The Evzones are also known, colloquially, as Tsoliades.
Though the Presidential Guard is a predominantly ceremonial unit, all Evzones are volunteers drawn from the Hellenic Army's Infantry, Artillery and Armoured Corps. Prospective Evzones are usually identified at the Army Recruit Training Centres during Basic Training; there is a minimum height requirement of 1.86 meters to join, and the soldier must serve a minimum of 6 months with an operational Army unit before beginning Evzone training.
The unit is famous around the world for its unique traditional uniform, which has evolved from the clothes worn by the klephts who fought the Ottoman (Turkish) occupation of Greece. The most visible item of this uniform is the fustanella, a kilt-like garment. Their proven valour and peculiar dress turned them into a popular image for the Greek soldier, especially among foreigners.
Even in these slightly strained circumstances the guards are very tolerant of tourists and I photographed Julia next to an unblinking sentry. While doing this we were watched closely by a modern uniformed soldier whose role is to protect the ceremonial solder from unwanted attention and to mop his brow after every stately maneuver.
Just as we were becoming blasé about the protesters they lost patience with their lack of impact and decided to block the main road behind them by standing still on the crossing. Greek drivers are emotional folk and sounded their horns and voiced their opinions about the situation. The riot police looked slightly more interested than before but returned to apathy when the protesters returned to the pavement. From there they contented themselves with hurling abuse at the building and anyone who appeared at the windows.
Suddenly there was peace, as the relief guards arrived, there was much marching and posing with feet high in the air almost touching their colleague’s boot also poised, then the new guards took up station and those they replaced marched away accompanied by applause from the tourists and protesters alike.
We retreated towards our assigned meeting place and had a cooling beverage in a pavement restaurant, not the cheapest but certainly welcome.
There was no stop off at an ouzo distillery or such so we were back on the ship by 4.00pm and being English we took tea.
In the evening we sandwiched our dinner between a film, “Blind Side” and an excellent comedian, Simon Fox, in the Connexions bar.
“Blind Side” starring Sandra Bullock was by far our favourite film of the cruise and I urge anyone who enjoys sports movies to see it. I refuse to say too much but at one point Sandra Bullock’s husband says, “Who would have believed that we’d have a black son before we knew a Democrat!”
Another full day!

Our First Cruise - Tuesday 11/05/2010 Kusadasi and Ephesus

2010-07-05T09:00:00.000-07:00

Kusadasi was to be our first, and on this trip, only touch on Turkey. We had nothing booked in advance but we decided on board the ship to try and book the Ancient Ephesus tour which I had done before leaving the ship on Monday morning. On our return there was a printed slip on our bed saying that our chosen trip was sold out and we should look at others while we had been placed on the reserve list in case anyone cancelled. I had gone down to the help desk in the Village Square and was told that they were now running another bus on our chosen tour as it had been so popular.
With this in mind it was no surprise to see several coaches parked alongside the curb just outside the port buildings as we emerged with our coach number on our shirts. We were on one of the early buses and our guide was excellent, he claimed to have come second in all of Turkey in the guides competition based on travellers’ reviews, the winner must have been truly excellent to have beaten him.
We left the port of Kusadasi and drove up into the hills, our first stop was at the home of the Virgin Mary in her later years, this is disputed by some Christian scholars but the claim is based on the idea that Saint John took responsibility for looking after Mary as she grew older and it is documented that he travelled to what is now modern Turkey.
According to Wickapedia:
The supporters of the belief that the Virgin Mary lived her last years and died in her hut near Ephesus base their theory on two main points:
1. The presence of the Tomb of St. John and the Basilica of St. John in Ephesus: Jesus Christ, before dying on the cross, entrusted to St. John his mother (19:26-27). It is believed that after the crucifixion of Jesus, St. John left Jerusalem and came to Ephesus in order to convert its people to Christianity, as it was one of the biggest and safest non-Christian cities of its time (capital of the Asia Minor province of the Roman Empire). He then built a small hut to care for Mary just outside Ephesus in order to protect her from the largely Artemis worshipping community of the region. (see Temple of Artemis)
2. The presence of the Church of Mary, the first basilica in the world dedicated to the Virgin Mary, in Ephesus: In the early centuries of Christianity, places of worship were dedicated only to persons who lived or died in the area.
Without being able to form an opinion about the reality of the claim we can certainly say that the site was moving in its tranquility and made an excellent start to the Ephesus experience. We spent about half an hour on this site and then returned to the bus. At this point our guide explained that we would be dropped off at the top of the Ephesus site and work our way down through it as trying to tackle the site uphill would lead us to hate him! He reminded us that we were not Japanese tourists so we should not feel obliged to photograph everything we saw, he assured us that there was nothing warranting our efforts where the coach dropped us off.
We were met on the site by a student photographer who joined our party only after our guide had asked if we were happy with that. He took several photos as we passed through and in due course we would be able to buy them at the bus.
Obviously I knew better than our guide because we had barely entered the site when we came upon an amphitheatre which I expended a few shots on, we then crossed some fairly unremarkable fields with some ruins and I was complimenting myself on my better judgment. However he was right, we breasted a small hill and below us was an incredible sight, there was a Roman street, paved with flagstones and flanked by ruined houses which had been equipped with running water in Roman times. Many of these houses had mosaic floors which looked quite dull until he poured water on them to remove the dust to show the vivid original colours. He knew the uses of most of the buildings and as we ventured further down the street, we came to the large public library which had survived better than most of the surrounding buildings; he told us that the experts were in conflict over the purpose of the buildings immediately opposite the library but consensus was now that one was a casino and the other a brothel, I suppose you don’t always fancy reading.
Below the library we came upon the huge Grand Theatre where St Paul preached (and is still used for performances today) and this really did warrant photography it was awesome. The whole Ephesus experience was similar and not dwarfed by our tour of ancient Rome; we would urge anyone who can to visit.
Looking back it is strange to think we had known so little about Ephesus that we had not even been sure that we wanted to see it and perhaps we would never have realised what we missed.
True to their word the photos were ready at the coach and we bought two out of the three featuring us, being the world’s worst hagglers we were unable to negotiate an improved price for all three together so he has the remaining one framed on his wall I imagine.
On our way back to the ship we stopped at a vantage point to photograph the town from above and also at a carpet factory where we were given a drink, apple tea, and a gentle sales pitch to buy a carpet. The carpets were impressive and I can recall quite a lot about them but I stick with this, the best carpets are silk on silk, they are priced by the number of knots per inch, only women can make them as men’s fingers are too big and these women only have about a twelve year working life before their eyes are so damaged by the close work. These carpets last effectively for ever but cost thousands of pounds and generally go up in value as they age.
Unlike in Egypt we felt under no pressure to buy so after admiring the process and the products we were offered a doormat in wool on wool at £95 but we declined.
Leaving the carpet shop we were within easy walking distance of the ship but we enjoyed a wander round the town before heading back.
Julia bought a Turkish pashmina in rich blues and black at a good price and afterwards sensibly avoided anywhere else that sold them. We sat for a drink at the top of the town and enjoyed the active street theatre before strolling back to the ship.
As we took afternoon tea I also took some good shots of the port and again later during the “sail away”.
Julia wore her pashmina to dinner and we then went to the Marquee to see Steve Larkins and his tribute to Freddie Mercury and Queen, I never knew that Freddie Mercury came from New Zealand but otherwise it was an entertaining act and it sent us to bed on a high having had a most memorable day.

Our First Cruise - Monday 10/05/2010 Rhodes

2010-07-05T06:38:00.001-07:00

We were awake as we docked in Rhodes and it was a most impressive arrival. We breakfasted and set off on foot as the town surrounded by its formidable walls was in walking distance from the ship. We made our way along the harbour side and into the town through one of several gates protected by a strong point. Inside the town gates we decided to explore the city walls first and everywhere was a classic photograph. From the walls, and indeed as we walked into the town, we observed many hugely opulent boats; there was a private yacht almost as big as some of the liners docked there.
This was a low key day and we enjoyed the slower pace of it all. We walked up and down the shopping streets and decided on a roof-top bar which was family run. They made us very welcome and we drank a chilled beer while watching the world go by. One of the facets of the cruise is the unlimited food on board so we could not justify having lunch at this bar but we were tempted by the friendly invitations of the family.
While continuing to explore we came upon two reminders of Malta, looking across from the roof terrace we saw the same wooden bay windows which look to be added as an afterthought to the outside of a completed building, these were everywhere in the old parts of Malta and while walking through the castle we saw the coat of arms of the Knights of Malta.
Having enjoyed the slow pace of Rhodes we strolled back to the ship and had a quiet afternoon reading in the sun on deck 12. We enjoyed our dinner at night after an enjoyable “sail away” from one of the most picturesque ports in our cruise.
We went to the cinema again in the evening, this time to see, “Its Complicated” with Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin, who were all excellent but we both agreed that John Krasinski stole the show playing the fiancé of Meryl Streep’s daughter who had the misfortune to be always in the wrong place at the wrong time. We recommend the film and at this point we placed it ahead of “Crazy Heart”.
We had a case of the munchies after the film so we went up to the Plantation and had tea and cake before bed.

Our First Cruise - Sunday 09/05/2010 Limassol

2010-07-05T06:03:00.000-07:00

We arrived in Limassol, Cyprus, early and set out on foot with nothing planned after breakfast. There had been trips offered by the ship but nothing had particular appeal to us so we decided to do the independent thing. On the quayside we were given a map of the area and on leaving the port we met up with Richard, the table tennis player, and his wife Margaret. We decided to split the cost of a taxi into town and for 20 euros we were dropped of in the centre. The same experience booked through the ship would have been a shuttle coach costing £16 each. In the town centre there was a really attractive castle to visit but we could not pay for entrance because the cashier had no change. We moved on deciding to return later when we had broken down some of our big notes.
We remained together and soon found that we had much in common but Richard and Margaret were veteran cruisers and we picked up many hints from them during the two weeks. We walked along the seaside promenade and passed through a market and a park where a church fete was in full swing. We stopped for tea on the front before returning to the town centre now equipped with plenty of change; sadly the castle was now shut because it was Sunday!
We decided to walk back to the ship and it was a pleasant stroll of about 50 minutes which passed quickly in easy conversation.
We separated back on the ship and Julia and I had a chill out in the pool, one of the benefits of being retired is that we now holiday out of the school holidays so the ship’s passengers were mainly adult and the two swimming pools are designated family and adult – we sat contentedly in the adult pool.
Afternoon tea called to us and we had tea, scones, jam and clotted cream on the rear of the ship taking in the view of Cyprus. Tea is an issue for us but Ocean Village was passable in this respect, they stocked good quality teabags and provided boiling water, we even found skimmed milk was available in one restaurant. We usually brought two mugs of boiling water with the teabag in already, a spare mug for the used bags and a fourth mug with milk to our table thus we could let the tea brew before adding the milk. The only problem tended to be the over-attentive staff who would whisk anything away that they thought was finished with, until we were more aware of this we would return with a second mug of tea each only to find the milk or spare mug had departed.
We were keeping a close eye on the time because we had used the ship’s newspaper to plan a full day of activities, at 6.00pm there was live coverage of the final matches in the soccer Premiership. We got seated in the Oval, the ship’s pub where Man Utd v Stoke fixture was being shown while updates kept coming through from Chelsea v Wigan. To win the title Manchester had to do better than Chelsea and the northerners did their part by beating Stoke but Chelsea were not to be denied and they demolished Wigan to win the title.
We were quick to get some dinner in order to be ready to go to the ship’s cinema to see “Crazy Heart” starring Jeff Bridges at 9.30pm. It was an enjoyable film and a good experience particularly as we struggle to get to the pictures at home and here it was included in the price!
Our day was not yet complete; we went from the cinema to the Marquee and watched the late night comedian who finished off the day brilliantly.

Our First Cruise - Saturday 08/05/2010 Port Said and Cairo

2010-07-05T04:37:00.000-07:00

We have no idea when we docked in Port Said as we were asleep; our first contact with the continent of Africa went entirely unremarked.
Despite our best intentions we missed our alarm which had been set for 6.00am but we rushed through breakfast and made it to the muster in the Marquee where we were issued with a sticker for bus number two. The previous day we had been allowed to collect our passports now proudly bearing the Egyptian visa stamp so thus equipped we were escorted in bus groups off the ship for the first time. We scanned our cruise card and the computer said goodbye to each of us in turn. Now on the quayside before joining the convoy of coaches we were struck by the heat and the pressure of the Egyptian novelty sellers, we avoided eye-contact and refused to take any item offered as that would, in the seller’s view, have constituted a sale completed.
Having gone through Customs/Immigration and having our visas checked we were directed to our coach. A long line of coaches were parked down one side of the road and on the other side there were open backed jeeps crewed by armed soldiers. We got settled in one of the first coaches and our guide, Gharda, joined us, only when all the coaches were filled did the convoy move out. The jeeps were our escorts and they slotted in between every three or four coaches. We later heard that some of the coaches had plain-clothed armed guards sitting up from with their guides.
It was a surreal experience, as the convoy travelled through Port Said we noticed that each junction or crossroad we passed through was held open by the police to avoid us being stopped on our route out of the city.
To get out of Port Said we passed through a check point and then continued our three hour journey to Cairo the first part of which ran alongside the Suez Canal, we could not see the water in the canal but we passed close to large ships making their way in both directions.
The land we were passing through was rural and we were told very fertile, the farms were worked by families using horses rather than machinery. We noted that many of the farms had tall thin buildings which were for doves which in turn were raised as a food.
After about an hour on the road we left our escorts at Ismailia, which I think I remembered from Forces Favourites, and proceeded towards Cairo, en route we were warned not to photograph any thing which looked like a military installation, apart from the most basic farms everything looked as if it was military. The most basic factories had walls topped by barbed wire and observation posts often housing armed guards.
While we travelled Gharda was very interesting about Egyptian culture and sociology, her most notable fact was that the government was battling a population explosion which she illustrated by saying that a child was born every 26 seconds. She also was keen to get orders for shirts and jewelry featuring the letters of your name in Hieroglyphs surrounded in a cartouche – clearly she was on commission and I feel the price of the trip may have made our bus a bit on the stingy side, we were one of only five people who ordered a shirt and there were no takers for the gold items.
When we reached Cairo the journey changed from dual carriageway through the countryside to a version of “Death Race” the usual set of rules of the road were abandoned and the driver took the coach through gaps that I would have hesitated to cycle through, we arrived at the National Archaeological Museum remarkably unscathed and we emerged from the bus leaving our bags and cameras behind as they were not allowed in the museum. We entered the museum grounds through a check point only to find that most of the other visitors had their cameras. Thus we were unable to photograph the antiquities which were displayed outside, there were armed guards inside the compound and at most junctions but we would have resisted any temptation to snap them. Gharda had departed to get the “whisper” sound system which would allow us to hear her commentary once inside the museum and we resentfully fried in the heat of the day without our cameras. However we discovered that she was right, as we entered the building we were scanned again and cameras would have been taken from us.
Gharda was enthusiastic about the history, she constantly said “we” did this or that and for a while I thought she had been involved in the actual discoveries but I soon realised she meant the Egyptian people as a whole. Her enthusiasm was such that she set a hectic pace through the museum, saying at one point, “the faster we go the more we will see” true I suppose but the museum experience is a bit of a blur to me now. She did make the point however that in the days of the pharaohs gold was more plentiful than silver so the golden parts were considered less prestigious.
When Julia and I took a toilet break she continued ahead and while trying to catch her up we were at least one exhibit behind in terms of what we were seeing compared to what we could hear her describing. Meanwhile back in our respective toilets we both experienced our first hard-sell begging. On entering the museum toilet we encountered an attendant who was handing out loo paper, after using the facilities they demanded paying for their assistance, speaking for myself, I would have managed without their unsolicited help and as I had no Egyptian pounds I was unable to pay had I wanted to, the short face-off ended when I used my teaching face on the gentleman and he backed off. It was a foretaste of what was to come at the pyramids.
We returned to our bus having caught up with Gharda, something some of our group never achieved, and we moved on to Giza where we were booked in for lunch as part of the tour. Cairo and Giza overlap and Gharda pointed out that the local farming land beside the road had been developed into housing illegally. The buildings varied immensely and looked unfinished in the most part simply because the owners continued to build up and/or out from their original dwelling as their situation changed. It looked a precarious existence but many were living in that state.
We then saw the pyramids which were a back drop to the hotel where lunch was booked. The contrast between the opulence of the hotel and the illegal housing could not be escaped. Lunch was a well-stocked buffet and we by chance shared a table with one of the other table tennis players, Richard, who had played the husband of the professional pair. He told us it got worse after we had left as the husband had played his wife in the final and made a point of humiliating her – nice guy!
From the hotel we rejoined our bus and drove to a vantage point with a view of the pyramids in front of the hazy outline of Cairo city. It seemed somehow wrong that the pyramids were so close to the modern city. We were in the process of taking some photos when I was grabbed by a Bedouin in a arm round the shoulder type way, he then waved his stick around and encouraged Julia to take the picture, which she did. He then wanted to take the camera from her and photograph us together, we had been warned about this ploy, we would have had to ransom the camera back, so we refused. He demanded money from us and became heated when we refused but the moment passed without him being paid
Our next stop was at the foot of the Great Pyramid of Khufu, we were warned again about the begging Bedouins and told not even to trust the armed security guards, that was not a reassuring thought, untrustworthy and with a Kalashnikov! We wandered again for a forty minute spell and took some great photos including a couple of panoramas using some of the tips picked up at the lecture. We did have to be firm with a couple of Bedouins, and one was in security guard uniform.
Just before we returned to the coach there was a stampede of the Bedouins, some on camels, some on horseback and at least three driving horse-buggies, the tourist police had arrived and dispersed the beggars, the fake security guards were rounded up but appeared to pay an “on the spot fine” to be released.
The pyramids were, it hardly needs saying, huge and impressive. However it remains a mystery how exactly they were constructed but it appears that the labour force was not all slaves but farmers who signed up for several months when their farming work was less pressing.
From the Great Pyramid of Khufu we travelled about 300 yards in the coach to see the Sphinx; it was again a brilliant moment.
On our way back to Port Said we stopped at a government sponsored shop where we saw a demonstration of making papyrus and then were invited to buy some, we passed on the chance to acquire our names written on reeds but we would have been tempted by a beer about then.
We set off from Cairo on our coach unescorted but breaking any speed limits that there make have been. We passed a dead cow lying on the side of the road with its legs up and shortly after we passed a truck loaded to cab level with what looked like sugar cane but on top of the crop there were at least five farm workers hanging on for their lives!
As you gather our drive back to Port Said was pretty hectic but we successfully met up with the other coaches at Ismailia, from there we were escorted by the same armed trucks with local police waving us through all junctions as they had on the way out.
We reached the ship and were back on board by 8.00pm the ship was due to sail at 8.30pm but the computerized registration system meant that the crew are aware when everyone is aboard so they can work based on that rather than deadlines.
Looking back on the day it was an experience to treasure but the level of poverty and the aggressive begging it causes meant that I cannot see us returning to Egypt in any great hurry.
It had been a long and full day so we ate and, after a quiet drink in the village square, we retired to bed and slept well.

Our First Cruise - Friday 07/05/2010 Day at sea

2010-07-04T11:22:00.000-07:00

The following morning we awoke and sought out breakfast, on deck 10 we were midway between the two restaurants, Plantation on deck 12 and Waterfront on deck 7, we generally walked down to the Waterfront for breakfast. Here we found a chef on duty making omelettes to our own specifications, they were excellent.
We didn’t decide on cruising because we were drawn to the shipboard life so this “Day at Sea” had little appeal for us but we were determined to enjoy as much of it as we could. We passed a quiet morning reading on deck and had a very light and early lunch.
Everyday the ship provides a newspaper detailing the following day’s activities and when in port it provides a map of the surrounding area. We had studied this and decided on a lecture on digital cameras, the Table Tennis competition for me and Pilates for Julia, with that level of activity we would have earned ourselves a Chinese themed meal and beer for dinner.
My digital camera, a Kodak ZD710, was my retirement present to myself, it is a hybrid camera, too big to be taken for a mobile phone and too small to get admiring gasps from passers by. I have achieved excellent results with it mainly using the basic setting and only deciding if I want the flash or not – sometimes I left this detail up to the camera as well. Julia and I turned up at the Photography lecture and we were encouraged to get our cameras out to follow his teaching points. At this stage I found myself robbed of the camera by Julia. I sat, somewhat miffed, while she pressed buttons, fiddled with its small joystick and found it was capable of doing everything he mentioned. When we left the talk we had effectively upgraded the camera and I was forced to forgive my good lady for her interference.
I had noticed that Table Tennis was listed as a pastime on the ship and in my final year of teaching I had been fortunate enough to play many lunchtimes with Ed Moore a colleague and excellent player. I felt that taking my own bat was a step too far so I turned up at the competition ready to use whatever the ship provided. In a field of about eight players there were several very casual players and an older married couple with their own bats and me.
It was clear from the start that the couple were serious players and the husband started by narrowly beating a player who looked very much my sort of standard. I then played the wife, it was a struggle for me, anyone who knows me will recognise that I am competitive but this did not seem the forum for being cut-throat. I smiled a lot, kept saying “good shot” and struggled with the thinly covered plank that passed for a bat. I wished for my own equipment or better still my absence from the event. Despite the limitations I had a match point but failed to press home my advantage and the old lady triumphed, gracelessly I thought. Another pair played next and although I was knocked out I tried to stay and support the event. Neither of the players were proficient but were enjoying a reasonably level game when the professional couple started to point out the illegal serves, it was more than I could stand and as I stood to go Julia was already exiting ahead of me!
Julia enjoyed her free taster of Pilates but didn’t see the need to sign up for any lesson which would cost her.
Later we noticed that the hot tubs were covered over with planking and an athletic group of young people were setting up for their night-time gymnastic display on deck 12.
We ate in the Plantation restaurant and enjoyed a Chinese based mixture of dishes. We later went on deck to watch the display, it was impressive but even my new-found photographic skills were unable to do it justice.
We wandered down from the display to Connexions, one of the bars on deck 7, hoping to get a seat to watch the comedian but it was packed and standing would only have been tolerable if he had managed to be a little funnier. We retired to bed knowing that we required an early start for Cairo and the Pyramids of Giza.

Our First Cruise - Thursday 06/05/2010 – Birmingham to Crete

2010-07-04T11:21:00.000-07:00

We woke on time to walk across the airport car park and check in for our flight to Heraklion in Crete. After a painless check in we had breakfast having passed through security to be air-side. As we ate bacon baps washed down by tea still before 8.00am there were several determined holiday-makers drinking pints! We were watching Sky News with no volume and someone with learning difficulties typing, in real time, the subtitles – you need to experience this it was magnificent entertainment.
Being more accustomed to budget air lines we found the Thomas Cook flight very pleasant and it passed quickly – we landed at Heraklion by 2.00pm and reclaimed our luggage which consisted of two large Prince kit bags – we refuse to pay for wheeled suitcases as they are almost as heavy as their contents. Nothing was left to chance by Ocean Village their representatives ushered us from the airport arrivals to the coach park and we were bused to the port and we went through the induction system. The staff issued us with photo id, which will be referred to as the cruise card, and cabin keys. Our baggage remained on the coach as far as we were aware but we were promised that it would materialize outside our stateroom some time during the afternoon.
We were then allowed to pass through the check point and onto the dock where the ship was moored. We used our cruise card for the first time and when it was scanned our picture appeared on the security computer.
Once on board we found our way through the ship to B deck and found our cabin, B255, towards the stern – we had opted for an outside cabin – meaning one with a window looking out to sea. This was a middle option between a stateroom with a balcony and an inside cabin with no window, interestingly we found out that inside cabins while lacking a window do have a set of curtains to draw over a blank wall to give the illusion of having a window. I am deliberately using the word window rather than porthole because these were large square windows and in the crew quarters the portholes were small and round as seen in all children’s cartoons.
We dumped our hand luggage and set off to explore the ship – it seemed big but my research tells me it is medium size for cruise liners. We were immediately impressed by the cleanliness and the politeness of all of the crew we came upon. On deck 12 were told there was a BBQ to welcome arrivals like ourselves. We tackled the two flights of stairs and arrived at the Plantation Restaurant, no BBQ was apparent but there was plenty of food freely available – we selected a snack and found ourselves a table on the rear sundeck with a magnificent view of Crete. Only later did we discover that the BBQ had still been serving on the leisure deck next to the swimming pool but this was no a big deal.
After this we returned to our cabin to find that one of our two bags had arrived, we took it in and unpacked for our two week stay, the cabin was spacious enough for us and it was nice to know we would not be packing and unpacking as we went from place to place. Later the other bag had not made its way to our new home so we went to report it at the reception desk in the Village square on deck 6. We were reassured that it could still be on its way but the staff would look into it, on our way back to the cabin we passed B225 and our bag was outside. We reclaimed it and told reception that we now were complete but later a purser arrived at the cabin to check.
The induction process had involved us giving in our passports and the intention was that they would be checked by Egyptian officials on board so that they could be visa-stamped for those passengers intending to visit Cairo.
At 5.30pm we had an Emergency Drill where we had to make our way to the allocated muster station with our life-jackets and get the same type of briefing as you do on a plane. The difference is that they just tell you to get to the muster station with the life-jacket and after that in a real emergency you will be allocated staff members who will be aware of the requirements of any particular emergency. The only bonus of this meeting was to find out that we would not have to attend a similar meeting the next week when we took on another cohort of passengers back in Crete before the second week of our combined cruise.
At 7.00pm we experienced our first “sail-away” hearing for our first time our captain saying; “The Chief Engineer assures me that we have enough turns on the elastic band so I suggest you get a Gin and Tonic or whatever is your poison and join us on deck for tonight’s Sail Away” It was enjoyable watching the ship extricate itself from the dock and the tugs maneuvering to get us pointed out of the harbour before we found ourselves in the open sea with a days sailing in front of us.
We then spent a half hour in the hot tub on deck 12 before going to eat at the Waterfront restaurant on deck 7. We were getting used to the catering, we found ourselves a table then raided the buffet separately partly because we tend to eat different things and partly to avoid having our table cleared by the attentive staff while we were away from the table. The food was excellent but as it is served as a buffet you end up with strange mixtures of ingredients on the same plate and this is not always fully successful.
After dinner we wandered round the ship and charged a beer to our cabin before retiring. The steady throb of the engines does transmit through the ship and perhaps was more apparent in a rearward cabin like ours but we found it restful and we both slept well.

Our First Cruise - Wednesday 05/05/2010 - Home to Birmingham

2010-07-04T11:20:00.001-07:00

Brian Dobson’s funeral
While we had been looking forward to our cruise things had been busy on the basketball front. The Trailblazers first team having won the first division was looking to add to its silverware by winning the playoffs in Manchester, home of the Magic coached for years by Jeff Jones and Brian Dobson. Derby, seeded one, had used their home advantage to good effect to dispose of Taunton, seeded eight, confirming their place in Manchester.
We had known for some time that Brian was very ill but it still had seemed strange to have been dealing with Freda Jones rather than him in the build up to the event. On the Saturday it was even stranger to arrive and not be met by Brian in his capacity of event coordinator and stranger yet, in due course, to see Jeff coaching alone.
In the first semi-final Derby disposed of Bristol with some comfort 79-65, most independent observers had expected this, it’s always harder for we fans to take success for granted. In the second match there was some smart money on London Mets to beat their hosts but Manchester were firmly in command throughout with a final score of 74-52. My fears were allayed in that losing to Magic was going to be tough if it happened but the thought of Mets dragging us into a scrappy game and emerging champions was more than I could face.
Julia managed to speak to Jeff Jones on Saturday and the news about Brian was not good, Jeff who had visited him every day in hospital felt that he was now slipping away fast but holding on to for the season to finish.
The following day, Sunday, Derby and Manchester played out a great final but Magic emerged as winners 81-72. It was justice for Jeff and his team to win something this season as they had lost in two finals and been runner-ups to Derby in the league. We also knew that emotionally the Magic had won it for Brian who did pass away that night.
Brian’s funeral was organised for the Wednesday before we started our cruise with a flight to Crete early on the Thursday morning.
We travelled in Sarah’s car to Manchester with her and Joel and our entire luggage as we would not return to Hilton until after the cruise. The funeral was well-attended and went as well as those things can, I felt that the vicar suffered from not knowing Brian but I suppose that will often be the case.
Many tributes were given and I added to the Derby Trailblazer’s website this:
Whenever I think of Brian, and I have done often since knowing he was dying, I remember his quiet thoughtful nature and his ability to temper Jeff's outbursts. He always had time for people and he seemed to remember something about everyone making him extremely easy to talk to, his "minder" function with Jeff tended to mask his own deep knowledge of the game and he had a supportive but wise opinion of everything we were attempting to build in Derby. I know it would have given him and Jeff great pleasure to beat Leeds giving us the chance to claim the title and I can honestly say that losing to Manchester in the playoff final felt more acceptable if it meant something to Brian in his last hours. It was typical that he managed to see out the season and it was also exactly what Jeff predicted!!!
Of all the coaches who regularly turn up at Moorways, Brian was the most friendly opposition face and playing Magic will never feel quite the same again.We left the wake, which was at the same hotel as the players had used between their semi and final, quite early and when we dropped Joel off at his home Julia and I were able to get changed out of our formal clothes so that Sarah could take them home after dropping us at the Ibis Hotel on Birmingham Airport.
Although we didn’t recognise it at the time our room in the hotel was very similar to the cabin we were to occupy on Ocean Village.

Malta Trip - March 1st - 5th

2010-03-20T07:36:00.000-07:00

Malta – Sunday February 28th 2010

We used some old air miles to book a four night –five day break in Malta, it was a pretty random decision based on how far we could get using up pretty much all of the miles before they expired.
By traveling from London Heathrow we could reach Malta and have enough spare to rent a car with only £35 to pay.
We had intended to travel down to Heathrow on the Monday morning but then realized that the roadwork on the M25 would mean us having to allow extra time as we would be hitting them in the rush hour. We booked a travel lodge on the M4 close to LHR and Purple Parking which we had booked earlier. With hindsight we would have booked a night at the Park Inn as they provide parking and the room at a similar cost to parking with other concerns.
So it was about 5.00pm when Julia and I set off south on the Sunday.
We lost some time on the M25 which proved to us that we were making the right decision and we arrived close to our destination given by the Satnav shortly after 8.00pm. The problem was however that we were in an industrial estate with no sign of a Travel Lodge or any life at all, we retreated and I asked directions. The local sent us back onto the estate but this time we pushed on further and started to see signs of a motorway service area, unfortunately the final 300 yards of the road were thoroughly flooded and the economics of the trip did not include writing off our expensive diesel car – having watched a smaller vehicle get through we followed at a respectful distance and reached the hotel. The satnav had probably calculated its route to save us 0.5 seconds by the back lanes it had chosen but there was a perfectly acceptable motorway exit we could have used without the stress.

Malta – Monday March 1st 2010

We had a reasonable night’s sleep and then used the Satnav to get to the Purple Parking depot some 3.5 miles away and they efficiently delivered us to Terminal 4 where we checked in and found ourselves breakfast.
We travelled with Air Malta and as usual for us the plane was full. We had an uneventful flight and landed in Malta on time, our baggage appeared promptly and we were ready to get to our hotel.
We collected the hire car and set off on the lottery which is the Malta Island road system – we were driving on the UK side of the road and should have had little problem but the car was so basic that it had no power outlet so we couldn’t use the Satnav. I had spent many more years using a map than being instructed by a machine so we should have coped. Bugibba is in the North of the island while, this is where some research would have helped, Birzebbugia is in the extreme South, the names are fairly similar and I took us off in the totally wrong direction. Pretty soon this was apparent to all our party and I re-planned our route. We successfully avoided the Valletta conurbation and eventually, by following signs for St Paul’s Bay, arrived in the Bugibba area. The whole venture of driving is made more exciting by the convention that only two out of three roundabouts need to be labeled with destinations and the number of the road displayed proudly on your map never ever appears on a road sign.
Again research would have helped, nothing in our documentation gave us any real address for the Hotel Topaz, with little confidence I powered up the Satnav on battery and despite being fully equipped for Europe it denied all knowledge of Malta. We phoned the Air Miles help desk and it didn’t – they tried but no address was available and they gave us a phone number that didn’t connect but that might have been about codes rather than their error. We wandered around and, in the seafront area of Bugibba, I baled out and asked in a bar. They steered us in the right direction and, by following their instructions, we circled the hotel before seeing the sign.
We checked in and found the facilities basic but sufficient for our needs. The four star rating remains a mystery to us – it would be hard to put the Westin Chicago on any kind of a par with the Topaz but both have four stars, we settled in and as we often do, we split up: Julia to bathe and chill having driven, me to explore. I found a shop where I could buy milk, for tea in our room – we provided the travel kettle - as I walked back to the seafront and noted the various places to eat. The nearest were Chinese Buffets which can vary enormously but there was a reasonable variety within walking distance.
In due course we set off towards the front again on foot and found a passable meal at Grannies which described itself as Fusion cuisine – Maltese, Indian and Italian – Julia had the Maltese sausage in a stew while I had a chicken with cheese and bacon dish. We were the only table in operation and we felt we would return to the Hotel so that our staff could close up the restaurant. We followed a slightly different route back and entered the hotel through a bar on the first floor which our room was on. There was Karaoke to entertain us and the rest of the guests – well those who still had the use of their hearing. You may have detected from this that the clientele was generally older than us - it was like holidaying with a post office queue.
We had two Budweiser’s in the bar before retiring having formed the plan to drive into Valletta the next day and sample some of the museum experiences there. We watched some television on the two English speaking channels but were forced to change the settings by hand as we had not paid a returnable deposit for a remote control – another four star feature of the hotel.

Malta – Tuesday March 2nd 2010

We rose and took ourselves down the narrow corridor to the large breakfast area, here we found the entire cocoon cast most of whom were keen to take their regular seats and had brought with them their own mugs – a good idea we shamelessly copied for the remaining three breakfasts. Our battle to get a good cup of tea was fought again, the drinks machine produced a nameless brew which required CSI to identify it but there were tea bags and hot, close to boiling, water so our second attempt was passable.
The bacon defied chewing but the various types of bread were really nice and there were sufficient spreads and fillings to produce a reasonable breakfast.
We took a leisurely drive to Valletta and my map reading survived all tests. Parking in Valletta proved to be beyond us everywhere was either occupied or festooned with “resident permit parking only” or “Tow Zone”. We circled and frustratingly saw the places we wished to visit but had no way to stop. We emerged from Valletta proper back into Floriana.
Guide book extract ; Floriana is a suburb of Valletta and shares with it the impressive harbour fortifications. It also lies within the capital's landward fortifications which reach as far as the Portes des Bombes on the main Valletta approach road. Floriana is named after the 17th century military engineer Pietro Floriani who was commissioned by the Knights in 1636 to extend Valletta's fortifications. Floriana was conceived as an entire fortress city in front of Valletta. The town is characterised by open spaces, gardens and some fine patricians' houses. All very impressive but our best attempt at parking here was only for 90 minutes; enough for a stroll but not time to do museums. We took some good photos as we wandered, including some of the historic buses which sadly are going to be replaced in the coming year.
We adapted our plan and set off for Vittoriosa, one of the Three Cities, which lies on one of the promontories jutting into Grand Harbour, opposite Valletta. At its tip is Fort St Angelo, perhaps the oldest fortification on the Islands. We were here to visit the Malta at War Museum; our 8 euros bought us a film of Malta resisting the Axis powers in WW2 and, more interesting, a tour of the underground tunnels which were excavated as bomb-shelters. For this we had to wear hairnets and hardhats; sadly no photographic evidence exists! We had a beer in a garden bar next to the museum and made the decision to try Valletta again.
We found our way back and the parking situation had eased, we were still on the edge of Valletta rather than the centre but we had no time restriction on us. We set off walking following signs for the Malta Experience which is a 45 minute presentation which basically goes through the history of the Island, it is signed from everywhere and I suspect we found one of the slower routes to it but our walk was enlivened by two incidents. The first was when we were accosted by a horse-taxi driver, he asked where we were going – we told him and he said that we had time for a tour of Valletta at the end of which he would drop us at the Experience. He wanted to charge us 30 euros and at that moment I realized that the banker I was with had not brought out sufficient funds for the tour and the Experience. We had not paid for a key to the safe in our room so the balance of our cash was in the sock drawer rather than with us. When we told our driver this he thought we were haggling and he successively dropped the price 25 – 20 – 15 – 10 before he accepted we were not bluffing. Incidentally the horse taxis were similar to those used in Jack the Ripper films and TV. Our other, more surreal experience, was meeting a long string of joggers coming towards us, they were all very similarly dressed but of clearly differing fitness, as they passed us we read on their backs that they were members of the Malta Police. Some obviously spent most of their time behind a desk but were not excused this venture. Some runners were passing us on their way back by the time we were nearing the Experience but there were still runners setting out so this must have been the all-time best opportunity to indulge in Maltese crime.
I would love to tell you more about the Malta Experience itself but having spent 9.50 euros, taken our seats in a warm auditorium and sorted out the earphones to the correct language one of us may have dozed off.
The few euros we had left were enough for a Malta & Gozo guide book but nothing like enough to purchase the mugs that we now knew would give us street cred in breakfast and perhaps get us an early appointment with the escape committee.
We returned to the car using an entirely different route to the one we had used arriving but it took a similar time, and from there navigated back to the hotel.
I was dispatched again with some sock-money to obtain mugs – purchased for 3.50 euros each. I ventured further than the night before and spotted a likely restaurant for our evening meal – Da Rosita.
We set out down the hill and had a hugely enjoyable meal at my nominated restaurant, the Head Waiter and the Chef made a great fuss of us and when Julia ordered a half bottle of Rose wine from the menu the waiter arrived with a full bottle and just told her to drink half. I had pork served with caramelized apple while Julia chose something which she really enjoyed also. We appreciated the fact that the salad, vegetables, roast potatoes and chips were all served in separate bowls so you could put on your plate only things you were willing to eat. I feel that perhaps the restaurant was struggling but it was not down to their level of effort or the food. We resolved to return the following evening so that Julia could finish her wine.
We stopped off for one Budweiser in the hotel bar before booking a bus tour of the North of the island; we were to be picked up from the hotel at 9.00am the following morning.

Malta – Wednesday March 3rd 2010

We had our breakfast earlier than the day before in order to be ready for the pick up, strangely many of the same guests were there already, I surmise that they feel if breakfast is provided from 8.00 to 10.00 it might be construed as rude not to attend for all of it. Our mugs, too obviously new, were greeted with suspicion and no contact with the other guests resulted.
It is slightly unnerving to be eating with people who appear to have a lower life expectancy than the processed cheese on offer at the buffet.
We dressed for the day on the top of an open bus and went down to wait in the foyer for our tour. The time having passed 9.00 we moved outside of the building and sighted the bus approaching us, with studious care the driver turned in front of the hotel, ignored our waves, and drove away.
The reception staff phoned the company and they in turn contacted the driver so in due course 25 minutes or so later he returned and allowed us onto his vehicle, it must have been more annoying for the punters already on the bus as they had the dubious pleasure of two laps of the not scenic area around the Topaz.
We had opted for the Northern tour of Malta because we had seen Valletta the previous day and we felt that we would cover the far south when we were evicted from the hotel on the final day.
Guide book extract : The North Tour goes to Ta'Xbiex Harbour, Msida Yacht Marina, Valletta Bus Terminus, Birkirkara, San Anton Gardens, Ta' Qali Crafts Village, the Aviation Museum, Mosta Church, the Old Capital City Mdina, the Domus Romana in Rabat, Bingemma, Mgarr, Golden Bay, Bugibba, St. Julian's and ends up in Sliema, our tour also entitled us to a free harbour cruise which we would have joined at Sliema.
We had no clear plan about hopping on and off so we were still on the bus when we reached the Ta' Qali Crafts Village, we decided to check it out and we watched a jeweler working with silver filigree – basically modeling with incredibly thin silver wire – it was skillful but the end result had no attraction for us. We then went into the glass factory and watched genuine Maltese craftsmen argue amongst themselves - again the end product was not quite our thing.
Close to the craft village was the Aviation Museum, we paid our 4.08 euros despite having to keep an eye on the bus times in order to hop back on, and it was the most fascinating time we spent on the island. In the more modern hanger a guide was taking a party round and his detailed knowledge and grasp of his subject all sprinkled with dry humour had his audience gripped. He was one of the aircraft restorers and had worked on most of the exhibits.
When we realized that we needed to get back for the bus or wait another full hour we made the wrong choice, by only glancing into the older hanger and heading back for the bus – this also meant that we took no pictures of the museum and its brilliant exhibits.
The craft village and the aviation museum have been built, along with the national sports stadium and the basketball centre, on the war-time airfield from which the defense of Malta was coordinated. The entire area was heavily bombed throughout the defense and this probably created the cleared area for the new build projects. In the early part of the defense the Malta air force consisted of three Gloster Gladiators, long outdated biplane fighters, which were romantically named Faith, Hope and Charity, In the tight fighting area above a small island they coped remarkably well with the more modern axis planes, soon they were reinforced by Hurricanes and later Spitfires.
We next stopped outside the Mosta Church, one of the many Malta and Gozo churches which display two clocks set with differing times – this to confuse the Devil and keep him out. The driver and some of his local friends disappeared into a nearby bar and Julia took the chance to find a public toilet. This venture had repercussions later.
The next leg of the trip was along the coast and the wind got up significantly making the top of the bus cold and the commentary through our headsets inaudible. As we were travelling again – thinking of staying on the bus all the way to Sliema, our intention was to take the free cruise before catching the bus back to Bugibba – Julia started searching our bag frantically. She was convinced that she had left her purse resting on the cistern in the toilet she had visited three or four miles back. We decided to get off in Bugibba return to the hotel, grab the car and head back to Mosta. However having got off the bus Julia remembered having her purse in her hand on the bus and a more systematic search revealed the black purse hiding at the bottom of the back-lined bag. We were now not keen to return to the bus and enjoyed a couple of hours walking in the area of the hotel and then having a dip in the indoor pool.
It was the day of England playing Egypt at Wembley so we intended to eat relatively early at Da Rosita and watch the game at the nearest sports bar.
The head waiter and chef were once again in attendance and we selected from the menu again, this time I chose the rabbit stew, rabbit is a Maltese specialty and Julia had the Beef Olives which were stuffed with a Maltese mixture. Having enjoyed the meal so much the previous night I was disappointed to have as much of the rabbit’s skeleton to deal with, a competent modeler could have constructed at least one bunny from the debris left on my plate.
While we watched the soccer in Fat Dave’s pub or some such name we found ourselves sitting with a couple who had been at the aviation museum when we were there. They reinforced our opinion that we had missed out by leaving.
England won the match and we returned to the hotel and bed.

Malta – Thursday March 4th 2010

We got out from breakfast promptly the following day and set off in the car following signs to Gozo knowing full well that there needed to be a ferry involved in our trip.
We found ourselves on the ferry and crossing the short channel between Malta and Gozo by 11.00am, we passed the even smaller island of Comino on our way the whole journey taking only 30 minutes. As we were docking in Gozo we found our way down to the car deck in no hurry – by the time we got there the bow doors were open and two of the three rows of cars had gone – our row had not gone being held up by our little blue car – we were serenaded by a massed band of car horns as we got in and drove off.
Julia had picked out an objective for our first point of interest, having been awake during the Malta Experience, we headed for Ggantija.
Guide book extract : The Ggantija Temples in Xaghra, Gozo, are one of the most important archaeological sites in the world and date from around 3600 to 3200 BC. Due to the gigantic dimensions of the megaliths, in past centuries some locals believed that the temples were the work of giants. This particular temple site in Gozo bears witness to this ancient legend: its name, Ggantija, is Maltese for giant. The Ggantija megalithic complex consists of two temples surrounded by a massive common boundary wall, which was built using the alternating header and stretcher technique, with some of the megaliths exceeding five metres in length and weighing over fifty tons. Built with rough, coralline limestone blocks, each temple contains five apses connected by a central corridor leading to the innermost trefoil section.
Trust me that prose is more impressive than the experience itself and to be charged 8 euros each was galling. The structure, more impressive that Stonehenge?, was held up by modern scaffolding and there really was little to see.
We took ourselves to the island Capital Victoria and got parked.
Guide book extract : All roads in Gozo lead to Rabat, also known as Victoria. The village’s Citadel is visible from almost all the Island, rising steeply above the surrounding countryside. The Citadel in Gozo owes its roots to the late medieval era, but the hill has been settled since Neolithic times. For centuries, the Citadel served as a sanctuary from attack by Barbary corsairs and Saracens. At several times during Gozo’s history, these raiders took its population into slavery.
After the Great Siege of 1565, the Knights set about re-fortifying the Citadel to provide refuge and defense against further attack. Until 1637, the Gozitan population was required by law to spend their nights within the Citadel for their own safety. In later, more peaceful times, this restriction was lifted and people settled below its walls, creating the prosperous town of Rabat, now known as Victoria.
Victoria is not just the geographic heart of Gozo, it is also the centre of everyday activity. It manages to combine the bustle of its market and shops with a relaxed and sociable atmosphere. It is a great place to watch the Islanders go about their day, especially when the main market square, It-Tokk, comes to life. Browse around Victoria's market and narrow winding streets and you'll find everything from delicious fresh produce, cheeses and wines, to antiques, craft goods, fishing nets and knitwear. The town also has a thriving cultural life all its own, with some surprising attractions ranging from opera to horse races in the main street on fiesta day.
This time the prose really does the place justice, we loved Victoria, there was a thriving square served by six or seven local bars and cafes and all around there were rooftop restaurants with amazing views of the town and the surrounding country. By random chance we selected a bar/restaurant staffed by zombies and it took an age to get a beer served to us at altitude and life was too short to wait for the bill up there but the views were spectacular. We then walked up the hill from the modern town into the citadel passing a vacant parking space marked “Parking for Carmelite Sisters”. The views from the walls were incredible; we could see the ocean on all sides and by looking back towards Victoria we were able to pick out our rooftop restaurant and a family of skeletons still waiting to be served.
After about an hour in the citadel we returned to the car to find it hemmed in on all sides but one of the surrounding cars was occupied and grudgingly let us out. We set off for a beach as the weather was warm and sunny. Without the benefit of signs we continued through Victoria looking for a right turn towards Marsalforn, eventually we turned back into Victoria and took what we thought was a major road to the coast – it was a cart track at best. We encountered downward slopes normally found on rollercoasters and turns which defied belief but our trust Fiat Panda coped. We arrived in Marsalforn.
Guide book extract : Marsalforn, meaning 'bakery harbour', is Gozo's main seaside town. During the summer, it becomes a bustling, lively resort. There is a small but pleasant sandy bank on the harbour with safe bathing and good rocky coastline towards Qbajjar which is excellent for snorkelling. The resort has a good range of accommodation from seafront self-catering apartments to hotels. Marsalforn is characterised by its harbour-side cafes and restaurants, many serving fresh fish. The small harbour is the main port for a fleet of traditional 'luzzijiet' trawlers and smaller fishing boats. The beauty of Marsalforn is its relaxed atmosphere, even in the height of summer.
Relaxed – read comatose – but we got a cheap and very nice cup of tea after walking along the sea front for 40 minutes in a howling gale which we had not noticed inland.
We continued along the coast to Ramla Bay.
Guide book extract : Ramla is Gozo's largest sandy bay and one of the most beautiful on the Maltese Islands. The beach here is of a deep, reddish-gold hue. The bay is surrounded by countryside and nestles below steep terraced hills and the mythical Calypso's Cave. There are no hotels or tourist developments nearby, but the beach side has several snack bars and cafes. The beach has its own landmark - a white statue of the Virgin Mary. Ramla is a superb spot to while away the hours - even in peak summer months, there always seems to be space on beach. In winter, you can find yourself alone. The area is excellent walking country. Swimming here is safe and the waters are clear and clean. There are some smooth, underwater boulders a few metres out in the central strip, but these are easily negotiated. On windy days, white surf rolling on the sand is an added attraction and fun for young bathers. The best approach to the bay is from Nadur or Xaghra, down a bamboo-lined valley. The road from Marsalforn, via Calypso's Cave, is rather steep and rough though it is passable by car. Of historical interest in the bay are some Roman ruins buried under the sand near the present-day cafes, and a 'fougasse' - a kind of primative mortar developed by the Knights which was fired from a rock-cut shaft to defend the bay during the 18th century.
We walked on the beach and shared it with only four other people and it lived up to the account above – really peaceful place.
We were now about ready to return to the ferry and from there to the hotel – it had been a good day. The journey was uneventful and we decided on local Chinese for our meal that evening. While Julia caught up with emails in the hotel lobby I walked down to the front again taking some photos in the process. On the sea front I saw the strategic importance of Malta illustrated, on the horizon there were eight sizable tankers passing within easy distance of the Island.
The Chinese was local, serviceable and not inspiring a Budweiser in the bar washed it down.

Malta – Friday March 5th 2010 – Home

We rose ate our final breakfast, packed and checked out. We had hoped to see Mdina the old capital of the island on our tour but having not done that we made it our focus for the last day.
The citadels of Victoria and Mdina are similar; both perched for safety on the high ground overlooking the rest of the island.
Guide book extract : The history of Mdina traces back more than 4000 years. This city can claim the origins of Maltese Christianity, as it was here in 60 AD that the Apostle St. Paul is said to have lived after being shipwrecked on the Islands. Lamp lit by night and referred to as “the silent city”, Mdina is fascinating to visit for its timeless atmosphere as well as its cultural and religious treasures. Mdina has had different names and titles depending on its rulers and its role but its medieval name describes it best – ‘Citta’ Notabile’: the Noble City. It was home then, as now, to Malta’s noble families; some are descendants of the Norman, Sicilian and Spanish overlords who made Mdina their home from the 12th century onwards. Their impressive palaces line its narrow, shady streets. Mdina is one of Europe’s finest examples of an ancient walled city and extraordinary in its mix of medieval and Baroque architecture.
Mdina was stunning and we only regretted that we had not planned to be there in the evening when it is almost silent and would have been a memorable experience. Mdina is the old capital built in the centre of Malta for safety for the regular coastal raids, as the island became safer the inhabitants started to have coastal homes at first in addition to, and then instead of their houses in Mdina. Consequently Mdina is thinly inhabited and basically car free. As you wander any picturesque fortress it is easy to miss the military engineering which made them so easy to defend and such killing grounds for the attackers. In Mdina the narrow streets curve by design to limit the use of archery as there are no straight shots of any distance, this probably indicates that the defenders did not have bowmen but were infantry looking to keep all engagements at hand-to-hand distances.
We walked round the huge cathedral which still has services ever day but only 30ish people turn up for them; the concerts however are over subscribed. There was restoration work going on in the cathedral but to our surprise what looked like stone or marble when it was raised back to ceiling height was painted wood rather like a film set.
After some time we left Mdina and went into the surrounding town of Rabat which I think is Arabic for suburb.

Guide book extract : Like nearby Mdina, Rabat played a major role in Malta’s past and is a prime source of its cultural heritage. This large provincial township was part of the Roman city of Melita, with the sites and archaeological relics found testifying to the town's importance during the Roman period. For many centuries, religious orders have established themselves within the precincts of Rabat and Franciscans, Dominicans and Augustinians still flourish here in their spacious convents and monasteries, catering for the religious needs of parishioners in their churches. The town is a commercial centre and acts as a market to its large agricultural hinterland. It is also well established on the tourist map due to its archaeological and historical sites: The Roman House Domus, Catacombs, St. Paul’s Grotto and the fine churches and monasteries.
We found ourselves some lunch before joining a sightseeing trip on a fake train. We basically circled the area in about 40minutes and enjoyed the journey and the commentary.
Time was now drawing on so we returned to the car and made our way back to the airport. The whole return journey was uneventful.

USA Trip - Part 9 - Houston & Galveston

2009-12-24T07:04:00.000-08:00

Having set off in midmorning towards Houston we knew that some kind of feeding stop would be in order. There were many small settlements enroute but Julia had it in mind not to become an extra in the next remake of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. So was determined to remain close to the highway and ignore any homegrown eating establishments. I must admit I could understand little of this fear but I went along with it. So from about eleven we started to look out for a recognizable restaurant chain close to the highway that we were on. About this time we started to see signs for BUC-EE’S, some way ahead of us. It appeared to me to be an aggressive advertising campaign announcing the opening of a Beaver themed restaurant. As we got closer to it, and neither Chilis nor IHOP had made a counter bid for our custom, we resolved to eat at BUC-EE’S and encourage their new venture.
I hasten to add I was not entirely fooled by the signs, I was not expecting large creatures similar to the family featured in “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” to be serving but I did expect a restaurant. Some more intrepid travelers than us may know already it is a huge service station, and worse, there is nowhere to sit, unless you count your car. Having looked this chain up they have branches all over Texas and have established quite a cult following. We would have preferred hot food and a comfortable seat but we settled for a sandwich and another bucket of fizzy drink each. We also tried the homemade fudge and bought some which we finally ate back in England.
We had learned the trick to locate Best Western hotels which often stand up by the freeway and therefore have an address which our satnav refuses to deal with, look up the hotel on the internet and expand the map to see a local road then offer that to the satnav. We therefore navigated successfully across Houston, no mean feat in itself, and found the hotel on the south side of the city convenient for the airport.
Having checked in we decided that we were feeling idle so we lazed in the outside hot tub and made ready to watch TV, being Wednesday there was an NBA double header to look forward to. Only the TV seemed determined to put problems in our way, the channels did not match the guide and, worse, there was no ESPN. On the way out to the pool area we reported this and the desk lady told us someone would look into it.
As we returned from our relaxation by the pool we met a guy getting into the lift with a new TV for us and once he had installed it we were good to go.
We felt unwilling to drive so at about 6.00pm I was sent out on a scouting mission, I walked about five blocks in one direction and had only three restaurants to report, two were sea-food and the third was a nice looking Mexican which announced “Wednesday is Fajita Night!” normally a good thing but unfortunately that was exactly what we had eaten the previous night.
One block from the hotel, as I headed back I came upon an army-surplus shop, it was closed but parked outside was a rocket launcher complete with rusted missile – I know Americans defend their right to bear arms but surely this is several steps too far for anyone!
On the other side of the hotel I could see the golden M in the distance but I hoped for better prospects before I reached there. There was another Tex-Mex restaurant then I came upon a Chinese Buffet which looked promising, I progressed past it but nothing else was on offer. I checked the Chinese on the way back and discovered that it shut at 8.30pm on weekdays and stayed open to only 9.00pm at weekends. If this was to be our choice then we needed to move ourselves!
Julia agreed the decision and we were at the buffet by 7.30ish. There were only the staff, us two and a party of four guys who looked like they were working in the area. We were soon patrolling the serving area and the food was great. It turned out that the working guys were from Newcastle and were on a job fitting glass for two weeks. Newcastle is my home town and the accent always brings my mother to mind although she claimed not to have any such accent herself. It was great to chat with them and we left at a similar time to them but I doubt they were as content to watch basketball as we were on our return to the room.
The free buffet breakfast was fine if a little too soon after the Chinese buffet for us to be able to do it full justice. The waffle maker did not require lubrication and we each managed a waffle along with other bits and pieces.
We were determined not to waste our final full day so we decided on Galveston, which we had enjoyed greatly when taken by Ken and Margaret Ehlers previously, and if time permitted, the Houston Space Museum. Since our last visit to Galveston time had passed and things would have naturally changed but also the island had suffered Hurricane Ike.
As we crossed onto the island it did not seem familiar, we both remembered houses built on the beach which were wooden and on stilts, it looked like the cars parked under the house but we saw nothing like that. We followed the coast road to the end of the island where we watched large tankers coming and going, the only strange thing was that, whichever direction they were headed, they were riding high in the water as if they were empty. From there we found our way into the town and got parked, the meters were not working so all on-street parking was free. The central area of the town was familiar but everywhere there was evidence of the damage done by Ike, we have a photo of a plaque on a wall which shows the water height to be over six feet from the ground. The houses we remembered were smashed and similar houses have not been rebuilt. The risk of flooding is obvious everywhere, the electricity lines are ten feet off the ground and appear to enter older buildings at that level.
We then set off back towards Houston and the Space Centre. The satnav did a good job having “googled” the address before we left the hotel, but it brought us to the exit gate rather than the entrance and we had to do a loop. It took us into an estate of houses and for a while I thought it had cracked up on us but we duly arrived. Our first debate was if it was worth paying entry as the centre was due to close at 5.30pm and it was now 4.15pm. We were impressed to be told that the tickets bought in the final two hours would be valid for the following day also; it seemed like a good deal. Having bought tickets we entered the centre, at the door we were urged to catch the last tram of the day at 4.30. This took us into the research and development facilities which are all for real. We saw the genuine control room which had guided the Apollo 13 crew back when they looked doomed. Incidentally this gives me the chance to recall the time we were watching the film and Julia remarked that it was hard watching when you know the ending, I agreed with her but she later admitted that she thought that they failed to get them back. We have also watched the film “Titanic” and perhaps she was looking forward to the arrival in America!
The missions are still controlled from Houston even though all the launches are now from Florida. The guide in the control room pointed out that when the Apollo missions were flown the total computing power available in their five? mainframes was less than a digital camera. His most memorable comment was the Mission Controller had total command and was the only one authorized to talk to the crew aboard the space shot. He was at times battered by several sets of information or questions to be sent to the crew and the way he was able to prioritize them was solved early in the programme, the mission controller was always an astronaut. We were shown round a training area where astronauts were practising with various equipment in simulated zero gravity although much of that is done elsewhere using a huge water tank. We finished at the rocket park where we were able to appreciate the size of the launch vehicles.
We found the exhibition hall emptying as the tram returned and we were ushered out of the complex and we set off back towards the hotel in the chaos of the Houston rush traffic. Since we had eaten nothing since breakfast and the roads were a nightmare we took the first chance to pull off for a Chillis restaurant. Here we had a “two meals for $20” deal and found the roads had eased by the time we traveled on.
Julia checked in on line for our flight home and for the first time we realized how late we were to take off, it gave us another whole day to spend in the area.
The following day we ate breakfast, checked out of the hotel into the first rain of the trip. Our original plan had been to visit the San Jacinto Battlefield and with it the battleship Texas but two things were against this plan, the already mentioned rain, we did not relish arriving wet for our flight, and the fact that in our rush at the Space Centre Julia had not seen moon rock! As a geologist this meant a lot to her so we modified our plans and headed back to the warm and dry Space Centre.
From very early on in our tour of the Space Centre it was obvious that the space programme was emotionally fueled by the JFK presidency and then assassination. We saw the wooden lectern from which Kennedy announced the start of the space race and we watched film presentations of the history of the programme all of this made us aware of the commitment made by the astronauts and their families.
For me the timeline of the space programme had the largest impact, most missions were made up of astronauts returning to space mixed with rookies who became the veterans later down the wall. The tragedies hit hard mainly due to the terse descriptions and there are more of them than I remembered.
Apollo 1 – the crew consisted of astronaut Virgil I. "Gus" Grissom, (the second American astronaut to fly into space) astronaut Edward H. White II, (the first American astronaut to "walk" in space) and astronaut Roger B. Chaffee, (a "rookie" astronaut on his first space mission). They died together in fire during a test, with the Command Module mounted on the Saturn 1B on the launch pad just as in the actual launch, but the rocket was not fueled. This test was a simulation, going through an entire countdown sequence. The most shocking thing I noticed about the incident was this paragraph - A hold was placed on the entire Apollo program while an exhaustive investigation was made of the accident. Although a specific initiator could not be determined, the final report of the investigation board blamed the fire on arcing. It was further exacerbated by the large quantity of flammable materials in the cabin and the oxygen enriched atmosphere.
They never found the cause for sure but they still had people prepared to go ahead with the programme.
Since the early days of non-returning space vehicles the programme moved to the Space Shuttle which returns to earth landing similar to a plane. There have been two Space Shuttle disasters.
The Space Shuttle Columbia disaster occurred on February 1, 2003, when the it disintegrated over Texas during re-entry into the Earth's atmosphere, with the loss of all seven crew members, shortly before it was scheduled to conclude its 28th mission, STS-107.
The loss of Columbia was a result of damage sustained during launch when a piece of foam insulation the size of a small briefcase broke off the Space Shuttle external tank (the main propellant tank) under the aerodynamic forces of launch. The debris struck the leading edge of the left wing, damaging the Shuttle's thermal protection system (TPS), which protects it from heat generated with the atmosphere during re-entry. While Columbia was still in orbit, some engineers suspected damage, but NASA managers limited the investigation, on the grounds that little could be done even if problems were found.
The Space Shuttle Challenger disaster occurred on January 28, 1986, when it broke apart 73 seconds into its flight, leading to the deaths of its seven crew members. The spacecraft disintegrated over the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of central Florida, United States, at 11:39 a.m. EST (16:39 UTC).
Disintegration of the entire vehicle began after an O-ring seal in its right solid rocket booster failed at liftoff. The O-ring failure caused a breach in the SRB joint it sealed, allowing pressurized hot gas from within the solid rocket motor to reach the outside and impinge upon the adjacent SRB attachment hardware and external fuel tank. This led to the separation of the right-hand SRB's aft attachment and the structural failure of the external tank. Aerodynamic forces promptly broke up the orbiter.
The crew compartment and many other vehicle fragments were eventually recovered from the ocean floor after a lengthy search and recovery operation. Although the exact timing of the death of the crew is unknown, several crew members are known to have survived the initial breakup of the spacecraft. However, the shuttle had no escape system and the astronauts did not survive the impact of the crew compartment with the ocean surface.
The acceptance of such risks and the cool courage involved deserves great credit and our respect.
Julia not only saw but touched moon rock but was shocked to discover that her belief that the moon rock was named Almalcolite after Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins, the Apollo 11 crew, was not recorded.
We spent much of the day around the exhibits and in due course we set off to delivery the car back to the Houston Car Rental Centre. It was still familiar to us as we had finished our previous tour of Texas in the same way; the Dollar attendant simply visually checked the car and scanned it in order to check that we were fully paid up and in charge of the correct vehicle. We were then able to catch a shuttle to the airport and check in our baggage. Our flight was scheduled overnight and we were due to arrive back at Heath Row at 11.30am. It all worked out as planned.