2007 Gichi Gummi

Debbie and I had always wanted to drive all the way around Lake Superior. Going around the world’s largest freshwater lake would have been a long way from where we lived in Farmington Hills, Michigan. But from our Ohio home it would really be a fur piece. Regardless of the starting point, we hadn’t thought about it for a long while. Then came the dueling weddings and all the hoopla. Then came the cleanup and then came the “what’re we gonna do now?” question.

So Saturday came the wedding (the last one – the Cleveland version), Sunday came the propovini breakfast, and Monday came the cleanup and the question. Surprisingly, the same answer came back to both of us independently: Circumnavigate Gichi Gumi. After a brief discussion Monday morning, and some last minute packing and putting up of garden produce, we did something we never, ever, ever do: started a several-day road trip on the spur of the moment. We always plan things out way in advance; this time we were impulsive and spontaneous.

Only made it as far as Mt. Pleasant, Michigan after 5 hours of driving Monday afternoon and evening. At the Mackinac Bridge we would need to decide whether to head clockwise or counter-clockwise around the lake. Debbie said clockwise would be better so that we could make all right hand turns. I couldn’t stop laughing. Not that she was wrong; it’s just that it’s a big lake.

Counter-clockwise it was. 50+ miles north of the bridge we crossed over the Sault Ste. Marie straights into Canada. Since the Soo is the eastern end Gichi Goomi, I had assumed that we’d start traveling west soon thereafter. But noooo. We continued north along the lakeshore for many, many more miles. This part of Canada is strikingly beautiful. The views of the lake are great, and there are hills that are nearly mountains everywhere. The best part is Lake Superior Provincial Park. In the park, Agawa bay and Agawa rock were great places to stop.

After 10 hours of driving, and stopping and walking and gawking along the way, we made it to the hamlet of Marathon and a no-tell mo-tell for the night.

I don’t know why, but I had always been fascinated with Thunder Bay, Ontario. Nothing particular, just the concept of it. A remote city on the north shore of Lake Superior. And that name! Well, it is remote. And the name is still cool. But nothing really special about the town itself. Some industry and a tiny bit of history. Did I mention remote?

The drive through Canada continued to be beautiful, even though there was a rare all-day fog. The 160 miles from the US border to Duluth were also pretty, but eventually not quite as nice as the Canadian shores. Duluth itself is a very nice town though. After being lost for a bit, we found the harbor-front, ate, had ice cream, and a very nice long walk.

The next day we drove the entire length, and then even the width, of the U.P. Then we went on to drive back to Mt. Pleasant for our last night. Start to finish, that amounted to 14 ½ hours in the car, but you’d have to subtract two hours or so for sightseeing. But that sightseeing was great. We visited Holland Lake to bring back camping memories – more for Debbie, but for me as well. We’ve seen it when it’s quite deserted, but there were 5-6 camping parties around. The worst part is the Off-Road Vehicles. They ruined the place for us, esthetically speaking. Other than that, the place looked about the same. Debbie says she won’t need to see it again. We’ll see.

Along the way, we stopped for Grandma T’s pasties. They were filling!

Munising was beautiful as always. Some day I’d like to see the Pictured Rocks. We never seem to have the time.

Our last stop before heading back down was Whitefish Point and Whitefish Bay. There we toured the lighthouse and the connected living quarters. The highlight there is the shipwreck museum. There they have the bell from the Edmund Fitzgerald along with information and artifacts from several other area wrecks. Of course we’d been listening to The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, by Gordon Lightfoot over and over, and of course they played it there, over and over. Sidenote: in November, 1975 I was in Atlanta on a business trip, when a hurricane came up from the gulf and (the remnants) went over our heads, heading north. It didn’t rain much, but I was fascinated by the clouds. This was the same storm that wrecked the Edmund Fitzgerald.

We looked out onto Gichi Gummi one last time (there’s a nice beach there), and then headed back.

We made 2,200 miles total.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.

With a load of iron ore - 26,000 tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go it was bigger than most
With a crew and the Captain well seasoned.

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ships bell rang
Could it be the North Wind they'd been feeling.

The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the Captain did, too,
T'was the witch of November come stealing.

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashing
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane West Wind

When supper time came the old cook came on deck
Saying fellows it's too rough to feed ya
At 7PM a main hatchway caved in
He said fellas it's been good to know ya.

The Captain wired in he had water coming in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the words turn the minutes to hours
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd fifteen more miles behind her.

They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the ruins of her ice water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams,
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral
The church bell chimed, 'til it rang 29 times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they say, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early

2007 Dan in Lisbon

I arrived in the morning on the Sunday before work. Since the afternoon was free, colleague David and I took a cruise on the Tagus River. It was nice and peaceful. The river opens up to a large bay, so it seems extremely wide.

We saw many fine sights. I had seen many of the same things from shore during my previous trip, but it was nice to see them by boat as well. Some of them were:
· The Parque Noches area, which has extremely modern architecture and is where my client's office is and where a triathlon was in progress. We could see the runners along the shore.
· The Tower of Belem - a castle guarding the mouth of the river.
· The 25th of April Bridge, a replica of the Golden Gate Bridge.
· The Statue of Jesus Christ, a replica of the one in Rio de Janeiro
· Other neat stuff.
Almost every day brings fish for lunch and then fish for dinner. Not that I’m complaining; the food’s great. Like the Spanish, the Portuguese like to have huge lunches, and then small dinners late in the evening. Of course this means that I have huge lunches AND huge dinners to go along with my huge breakfasts. Thank goodness the dinners aren’t quite so late as for Spain – I haven’t had to wait until 8:30 for dinner yet.

But back to the fish: here’s how it goes every time. They place a huge chunk of fish in front of me. It takes up the whole plate, and it looks and smells great. Without thinking, (my brain shuts down whenever there’s food to be had), I slice a big piece and get it into my mouth as quickly as possible. And then, “Aaaargh – what’s all this hard, sharp stuff?” And then I spit out the bones as delicately and politely as is possible, which it isn’t. I wish I had a euro for every fishbone I’ve eaten on this trip.

Once upon a time, a lady appeared to 3 children, told them she was the Virgin Mary, and made some predictions that may have come true, depending on your belief system, and where you heard about it. Each year many thousands of pilgrims converge on Fatima on May 13 to commemorate the anniversary of the first appearance. They actually arrive the previous day in order to take part in all the activities and to watch the procession that night.

So there I was, a pilgrim converging upon Fatima on May 12, just like the 500,000 other pilgrims. This wasn’t just any anniversary either; this was a special one: the 90th. I had signed up for a tour of Fatima along with some other places, and we arrived with all the multitudes. Most of the people were arriving on foot. Many were camping. Thousands attended a mass that overflowed into the basilica courtyard. Others were lined up to pay respects to a shrine at the exact place of the appearances. Many crawled or scooted on their knees. It was all quite a spectacle.

There were plenty of other sights to be had this day: a gothic cathedral and monastery in Batalba. Another one in Alcobaca. Lunch at a fantastic little seaside fishing and beach village called Nazare’. And finally, there was the walled medieval village of Obidos. Obidos is a bit like Rhodes, and perhaps Toledo, even though I’ve yet to go there. It was a stunning setting. I’d have liked to have spent more time there and in Nazare’.

Speaking of stunning settings, I spent another day in Sintra, along with another consultant I’m working with, Ravish. I’d been to Sintra as part of another tour last year, but all I did that time was walk around the village. It was ok, but I didn’t even know what the deal was about the palaces and castles in the area. Having enough time made a big difference.

Ravish and I took a train from Lisbon to Sintra, and then took a bus to the top of the Big Hill / Mountain. At the very top is Pena National Palace in a spectacular setting. The palace itself is like something out of a fairy tale, with fantastic structures, shapes and colors. And did I mention the view? It was great; we could see the sea many miles away on three sides of us (Sintra is in the middle of a large peninsula, which includes Lisbon far to the south).

Next we headed down, but not too far down, to the Moorish Castle. This was about 1,000 years older than the palace, but it was impressive in it’s own way. There were walls galore, and a steep walk to the top. The walls are built on the side of a cliff, so it appears to be a very high wall. In fact, it is a very high wall. As it was for Pena Palace, the panoramic view was wonderful.

Then it was down again. This time way, way down, back to the village. We toured the Sintra National Palace, which had only some very nice views. Some of the 16th century rooms were neat.

And that’s about all the ways you can cook shrimp, I mean… that’s about all the ways you can see Portugal from Lisbon.

2007 Dan in Dublin

“I’m kind of tired. I was out celebrating my wife’s birthday until 4am. Boy was she mad when I got home!” That was just one of the stories from one of the drivers of the City “hop on, hop off” tour that I took here in Dublin. Another is, “My wife ran off with a policeman. Now whenever I hear a siren, I get worried. What if he’s bringing her back?” One more: “Here is the smallest pub in Dublin. It holds no more than 14 people, including the barman. It’s very safe, because you can’t fall down.” Yes, some of these drivers were pretty darn funny. One of them sang quite a bit. And quite well, too. I took this tour in order to see Dublin sort of on my own, but with a bit of guidance. Some of the memorable stops that I did were: Christchurch and St. Patrick’s Cathedrals, Phoenix Park (a very nice city park where a 10K race was just finishing), Trinity College and St. Stephens Green (a smaller, but still very nice city park). I chose not to stop at the Guiness Headquarters and visitor center. That, however, is considered by many to be a major attraction here. 

The folks I work with are extremely friendly. It’s nice to work at a place where they like you. As usual, however, I’m out in the middle of nowhere, so I have to take a tram any time I do into town. But I’m managing ok. It’s a good thing that I took that tour when I arrived – most days all I see is what’s on the 400 or so meter walk from the hotel to the office. Except, of course, what I see on my daily runs. 

Those daily runs have really been, to put it as an Irishman would, brilliant. No, I don’t mean the quality of the running; I mean the scenery and the sensory experience. From the suburb of Leopardstown, I head east on bike-paths and sidewalks along the not-too-busy road down (and I do mean down) to the sea. Even this part of the run is very pleasant. There are stonewalls, blossoming trees, flowering gardens, birds singing, and the village of Newtown. 

Once I reach the sea, it gets even better. I turn south and run along the shore. There are more stonewalls and villages along the way, along with harbors and seawalls. I go through the village of Dun Laoghaire (pronounced dun leery, but you probably knew that), past Dalkey Castle and turn around at an abbey placed by God on the sea in the village of Dalkey. On clear mornings the sun is often just starting to rise over the sea at this point. Heading back the way I came, I have to push it to get back up the hills, but I don’t mind; running doesn’t get much better. 

I’d seen a lot of Dublin, and I’d certainly seen enough of Leopardstown, so for the weekend in between the workweeks, I made my way to the countryside in order to stay at the Marriott Johnstown House Enfield Hotel and Spa. Enfield is in County Meath, about 40 miles from Dublin. Might as well be 400. Friday evening, I got my laptop bag and two other small bags, walked 15 minutes to the tram, rode 30 minutes to Dublin city center, walked 30 minutes to Conolly Station, waited for and then took the train to Enfield (45 minutes), and finally walked 30 minutes from the village to the hotel. The things I do to earn Marriott points. 

I thought my Ireland running couldn’t be much nicer than that run to the sea, but it’s really nice in County Meath as well. I ran to the village and then along a canal, where there was a path of variable quality – some mud, some rocks, some cow flops, some cows, some sheep, some crushed gravel, etc. But all of it very serene. The green Irish hills and pastures loom in the background. Trees line most parts of the canal. Maybe running did get a bit better. 

So after nearly 2 hours and 40 minutes of slow trail running, I get back to the hotel and, for reasons that I can’t think of, went into the spa/gymnasium. There I saw a notice about the Spa’s annual triathlon. It was to take place that very same day. I somehow gathered that there were both individuals and teams, and then, of course, asked if there were any teams that needed a runner. Of course there was. Before I knew it, I was involved. Show up at half-past 11. “Oh yeah,” I said as an afterthought, “how far is this run?” 5.2 kilometers. 

Could I go out and do it again after all that trail running? I figured I could probably make the distance. After breakfast and a cold bath to recover, I went back down to the spa. Do I owe any money? No. Who and where are my teammates? They’re around somewhere – don’t worry about them. Follow Liz to get started. But it’s only ten after 11. Doesn’t matter, we’re just starting everyone in groups of 3, and in this case, 2. You can go now. So me and Jenny started running towards town, hoping to not get lost (the directions were pretty simple, and there was a biker on the course to help). I got ahead of Jenny and then saw the biker, who yelled some words of encouragement as I went by. He was escorting another runner in. Later on he caught up and rode along with me as I looped through town and began heading back to the hotel. He continued to encourage me, and at one point told me I was doing 10 miles per hour. I slowed a bit towards the finish because there’s a hill to overcome, not to mention strong winds. I finished strong with the biker almost alongside and with Liz and about two others cheering madly. Liz kissed me. You just don’t get this kind of running experience (at least by race officials) at home. My time was 20:26, a PR for 5.2 km. And better yet, by beating Jenny, I had “won” the third or so race of my life. The others were equally low-key. I wish I knew how I did in relation to the other runners. When will I know the official results? There will be a picnic in July where they will be announced. How did my team do? Who knows? 

I thought that being in County Meath would bring me close enough to easily get to some historical and archeological sites. Close I was, but there was no easy way to get to any of them. I hired a taxi for 25 Euros each way, and went to Trim. Trim is a medieval village with a large historical castle. From the tour I learned that the castle was built in the 12th century. The keep is quite tall, but only partially intact. Same with the walls. From the top of the keep I could see all around the county, including the Hill of Tara, another famous site. Trim castle is where the movie Braveheart (which is about Scotland) was filmed. 

One more thing - Limerick Pork: Until I went to Ireland, I wasn't aware that there is an actual city called Limerick. I still had to chuckle a bit when I saw "Limerick Pork" on a dinner menu. I figured they meant that the recipe came from there or that's the way they prepare it there, or something. Even so, I still somehow pictured a pork chop spouting a dirty little five-line poem. So during this morning's long run, I came up with this thought about Limerick Pork: 

There once was a piglet in Limerick 

Who thought: to escape would be mighty slick 

He tried to run away 

But the farmer held him at bay 

And that's him on the dinner table; so much for that swine trick

2007 Dan in Budapest

This would be my second time in Budapest, and I wanted to see and do some different things this time. I almost booked a one-day boat trip to the north, where there are supposed to be three scenic towns and a great castle or two overlooking the river. It’s called the Danube Bend area. I chose not to book it however, when I saw the weather forecast: cold and rainy. Cold (low 40s) and rainy it was. So I tried to do some indoor things.

I walked to and explored St. Steven’s Basilica. I’ve now seen a lot of old churches all over Europe, but this is one of the most glorious. It was as ornate as any, but more colorful than most.

I also went to Buda Castle, also known as the Royal Palace, to visit the museum inside. It’s the Hungarian National Gallery, with an extensive set of works by Hungarian artists throughout history. It was quite impressive. As usual, I liked the 19th century paintings the best. Budapest also has a Museum of Fine Arts, but I’ll save that one for my next trip.

The next day, Sunday, was very nice: it was sunny, with temperatures in the 50s. I couldn’t go the Danube Bend, however, because the tour only goes on Saturdays in winter. I could have tried to take a train or bus, but thought better of it; there were still other things that I haven’t seen in Budapest proper.

The day began with me on a metro to Hero’s Square. This square is the entrance to a city part called Varosliget, and is also home of the famous Millennium Monument. With great colonnades, statues galore, and a tall central column crowned by Archangel Gabriel, it is truly stunning. The monument was built to celebrate the millennium of the founding of Hungary, as well as it’s conversion to Christianity, lead by St. Steven. Among the statues is Prince Arpad, along with six other conquering Magyars. You gotta love these conquering Magyars.

Varosliget also contains a zoo, botanical garden, famous baths, and Vajdajunyad Castle. Since I continue to be self-conscious about taking them with people I don’t know, I skipped the baths. This castle, complete with a moat, looks like it’s straight out of a fairy tale. I walked around the interior grounds – it is really neat.

As I returned from the metro stop, I had planned to take Vaci street, a major shopping area, back to the hotel. Along the way is Mihaly Vorosmarty Square, where there was some sort of flea market or festival going on. I checked out the goods and the food (which smelled great) and watched first the little girls, and later everyone, do some folk dancing. They even had a puppet show. You just can’t get entertainment like this at home.

Having been to Old Town, in the Castle District before, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go again, but I wanted to do something with the time I had. So I climbed up once again – it took about 45 minutes from the hotel. And I did see some sights that I had missed: the view from the back of the Castle District hill is almost as spectacular as that overlooking the Danube. I also got to see the famous Vienna Gate.

How Beautiful is Budapest!

2007 Dan in Athens

For my second trip to Greece things would be different. This time it's a business trip, so I wouldn't have nearly the amount of time to see things as our trip a couple months ago. So after arriving, I spent my first day just walking around the Plaka district; nothing much new to report.

The only full day that I would have free would be Sunday. I booked a 3-island, 1-day cruise. And what a day. I was actually gone from 7am until 8pm. It turns out that the three islands are not quite as close to Athens as I thought; it took a long time to get from one to the other. And one other complaint: the boat was lousy - they packed too many people on board and the food was awful. (Woody Allen likes to talk about the Jewish Ladies complaining about food at a wedding. “The food is awful”, says one. “Yes, and there’s so little of it”, says the other.) But in spite of the long day and the not-so-good boat, it was a most worthwhile trip. Our first stop was Poros, where I walked around the picturesque harbor town. Poros is only about a quarter mile away from the Mycenae area on the mainland, but a long boat ride from Athens. Our next stop was the island of Hydra. It was even more picturesque, and there were some forts to explore in addition to the town itself. Finally we went to Aegina (aka Egina), where I booked an additional tour. I got to see the temple of Aphea, which rivals the Parthenon and Poseidon's Temple. (Also something strange: these three temples form an exact triangle - each is 25km apart. How, and why, did they do this?) We also stopped at an orthodox church that was cool as well. Finally, the Greek music and dancing on the boat was pretty entertaining. So yes, it was a good trip.

On the way to the boat I had met a father and his son. He asked where I live and when I told him, he asked, “is that near Strongsville?” When I told him, he asked if I’d heard of Beef O’Brady’s. I said that I’d just been there for the first time just in the past week. His name is Nick Voinovich, and he is the president of Beef’s and lives in Tampa. We talked a lot. I saw the two of them on the first island, but not afterwards. I thought it was strange that they didn’t get off the bus for the Marriott that night – I figured maybe they’d taken a cab. I saw Mr. Voinovich at breakfast the next morning. “You know when you were heading back to the boat and we were going away from it? My son said, ‘Dad, why’s the boat moving?’ We missed it and had to take a water taxi back to the third island, where we missed the boat again, and then had to get another boat back to Athens.” I had kind’ve wondered why they had been headed the wrong way, but didn’t say anything. I figured they knew what they were doing.

I can’t forget to mention Babis, my personal driver. I know this because he told me; he said, “I be your driver for your whole stay, boss.” That’s another thing: he calls me boss. Whenever I need a ride, anytime day or night, all I need to do is call Babis’ cell, and he comes. He’s from Crete, like Zorba – maybe they all call their clients “boss”. But he’s a wonderful guy. I’d recommend him to anyone coming to Greece.

For my last night I took a long walk up to a hill just below the Acropolis. I had a great view of the sunset and Athens at twilight.

2007 Dan in Madrid

This is my second trip to Spain. The first was last September, when I spent only a couple days here in Madrid as well as Lisbon. This time it is to be 2 weeks in Madrid, so I went thinking I ought to be able to see and do more. The good news is that the hotel is only a short walk to the office. The bad news is that we're in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of town. This area, north of town is hard to believe and even harder to describe. The word, stark comes to mind. There are miles upon miles of multi-family residence buildings, office buildings, some restaurants built into the buildings, AND THAT'S ALL! No trees. No schools. No single family houses - I found not one in dozens of miles of running. Oh yeah. Plenty of construction. More construction than you can imagine. 

Upon arrival Steve and I took the bus to the subway station, and the subway downtown. We did lots of walking, including a long stroll through one of the city parks, Parke Del Buen Retiro. There were many many folks out for their Sunday afternoon strolls. We also walked through the main train station (including the indoor arboretum), and a few other areas. You've got to enjoy the architecture here. The theory is that it's so nice here because Spain was not involved in either world war, and their civil war didn't cause much local damage. We ate dinner at an outdoor cafe, even though it was getting a bit cool. We laughed at our suffering there at an outdoor cafe, whilst the poor folks back home only have a couple feet of snow and cold to put up with. Not much happened during that first week of work. Our client kept us fairly busy, but we did have some time for walking. We went to Hippercor (large discount store/supermarket) and El Corte Ingles (large department store chain) one time, and to a mall another night. That was about it for excitement, except this: We walked into the mall, which is quite exclusive, and almost immediately heard the fire alarm. Sure enough, we could smell and even see smoke, and it was coming from somewhere near the cafe I had been recommending for dinner. We got out in a hurry. 

Later that night we tried to walk back along side and in back of a golf driving range. We were "escorted" back. I thought the security guard was either being very helpful, or we were about to be arrested. Eating here is a challenge. The food is great, but it's only available at certain times, and you'd better just get used to those times. Lunch is at 2 to 3 pm, we work until 6 or 7, and then dinner is at about 9pm. This doesn't sit too well with a guy who likes to go to bed at 9:30 or 10, and then get up to run at 4 or 5am. So Steve and I are always trying get an "early" dinner at 7:30 or so. But it's a real challenge to find ANYPLACE that's open. 

Friday night Steve and I checked out of our middle of nowhere hotel (which looks like it was designed and furnished by Ikea), and into one in the middle of everywhere central Madrid. That hotel, the Best Western Atlantico, is beautiful classic European. The streets are truly alive with people. There are street entertainers, discos, theaters, you name it. And did I mention throngs of people? We walked to Templo de Debod, an ancient Egyptian temple moved here as a gift from Egypt to Spain for their help in retrieval of other antiquities. It was awesome. Then we walked around the renowned palace (it was closed) and through Plaza Mayor, the famous square. 

Our friend and interpreter, Sergio, drove Steve and I to Salamanca, which is about 2 1/2 hours west, almost to the Portugal border. Salamanca is first and foremost a university town. The university is built into the medieval city center area, near the main square. I learned that Plaza Major means main square, so that's why multiple towns have squares by the same name. Duh. We walked around quite a bit and saw shell house, an ancient Roman-built bridge and the cathedral, in addition to the square. 

Sergio's friends from earlier years, Laura and Nikki, were visiting Salamanca from Brazil and the UK, so we all did some crowded tapas bars. We didn't eat much - only a bit of some of the famous jamon - but had lots of good conversation. It was a great day. The next day Steve and I took a train for a half-hour ride to Alcala de Henares. It's another university town with more historical buildings. There were dozens of huge storks making gigantic nests on the tops of the buildings. We ate and toured the Cervantes (the author of Don Quixote - Man of La Mancha) Museum and an archeological museum. We also saw a quasi-military band playing music in front of the university. 

Observations: -Everyone I work with seems to be genuinely friendly and accommodating. Great folks, these Spaniards! -When you sneeze, they say, "Jesus". -When they dubbed Terminator 2 into Spanish, Arnold's "Hasta la Vista, Baby" was changed into "Sayonara, Baby". (I think that works just as well!) -You don't find chicken on too many menus, but plenty of pork and jamon. -The Spanish have never heard of "Spanish Rice". -Running here is so strange. When I head out at 5:30 or so, someone has to open the hotel door for me, and there is no one, not one person or vehicle, about. The streets are empty. That was not the case for my one and only run from downtown. There were throngs of people everywhere, still reveling from the previous night. Of course they must have thought I was pretty strange. But that was mutual. Then I went into Casa de Campo, a very large park near the city center. There I encountered a plethora of prostitutes. I obviously wouldn’t be interested in their wares, but that didn’t stop them from making a few inquiries about my intentions. 

Our last night of the trip was a Friday, so Steve and I went back to the city center for more walking and exploring. We checked out Columbus Plaza, which included some kind of strange ultra-modern expo that we failed to comprehend. We marveled, once again, at the throngs of pedestrians out on a Friday night. And we ate at a smoky, but excellent tapas bar, where we enjoyed the best tapas yet.

2007 Hawaii

"The winds are wrong." That, according to Rita Cognion, is what the long-time kamaiana's (island residents) were saying. Instead of the usual trades from the north, these were coming from the south and were quite fierce, bringing some amount of damage and destruction. We got our share of rain over the 5 days we had in Maui, but also much nice weather as well. From our experiences, rain in Hawaii is never much of a problem, because it a) doesn't usually last real long, b) you can usually see and get to areas where the sun is shining and it isn't raining at all, c) it's liquid sunshine and you're in Hawaii to enjoy it and d) there's usually a rainbow to accompany it.

So after a day of lounging, we decided to drive up to the top of Haleakala to hike the Sliding Sands trail within the volcanic crater. It had been raining at our place in Wailea, but not to worry, I said. We would be above the clouds at the 10,000 foot summit and could laugh at the poor slobs getting rained on below. Sure enough, as we drove up the mountain, we did go through several layers of clouds. There was only one problem: they didn't stop. We didn't make it as far as the summit because the lady at the entrance to the national park told us it was cloudy and raining up there as well. The trip itself was neat anyway. Those rain clouds were pretty awesome, and there were plenty of rainbows in the places where the sun broke through.

We did manage to get a hike in that day. Down past the end of the road (see the running description below), there's a trail over extremely rough lava flows with some great shoreline views. We had done it partway one other time, but this time we went farther, all the way to what I'll call a light beacon: a light-house without the house. It was on a cape at (I think) the very southern tip of the island. Feels like the end of the earth. The surf from those "wrong winds" was splashing all the way up to the top and over 50 to 100 foot sea cliffs. Although the footing is awful, this is a great hike.

Besides that end-of-the-earth hike, and our usual 3-4 mile morning walk along the shoreline walk-way in Wailea, we did one other memorable hike. It was actually more of a climb, down to the "olivine pools", so named by our guidebook. These are on the shoreline on the northeast side of West Maui – what I call the back of the head. The pools are not unlike the Oheo Gulch, aka Seven Pools, but are much less known. They are tranquil pools almost entirely surrounded by rough ocean surf. We didn't get in for a soak, but they were neat to see. And we were the only people around. After the climb back up to the road, we continued to circumnavigate West Maui. That drive is every bit as beautiful and harrowing as the famous ride to Hana. After a while we got tired of stopping to admire the views (ho hum, just another spectacular view) and just kept driving, dodging the occasional oncoming vehicle in the one-lane areas. And of course we didn't take the recommended clockwise direction. Going counter-clockwise as we did means that the steep drop-off cliffs are ALWAYS next to you on the passenger side. Seemed like only inches away.

It was great to see Rita during our time on Maui. She and I ran together a couple times, including once to the end of the road. (I did another solo run there.) Did I mention that it seems like the end of the earth? It really does - especially when the early morning darkness is still there. It's such a memorable running venue, and I'll never forget it. But back to Rita. She's such a great friend, and not just because she lives in paradise! We ate one breakfast (where she was beat-up from our just mentioned long run), and several dinners together. George couldn't make it - he was stuck in Cleveland with the flu. Too bad - we missed him, and Rita seems downright lonely there. Rita and George do have a wonderful condo in Kihei, and she even took us to her office. We couldn't find her desk though - there was only a huge pile of papers (where the desk should have been) with a chair in her cubicle.

It was sad to say goodbye to Rita and to Maui, but it was on the Big Island. Lately we've been leaning more towards staying on one island because the trip between them takes so much time. This one sealed the deal: not only with time, but also stress. We thought we had plenty of time, but nooo: the wait for Hawaiian Air check-in was well over an hour. We did make it, but when we arrived in Kona, we learned that they lost our luggage. And then we had to wait well over an hour JUST TO REPORT IT. They did eventually deliver it to our hotel, but so late that night that we didn't actually get it till the next morning. One other problem that we were somewhat aware of coming in: construction at the Waikoloa Marriott. They have nice pools and the usual beach, but a makeshift entrance and lots of construction noise. To top off the evening we thought we'd try the expensive hotel restaurant, and the food was uncommonly bad. It was much worse than greasy spoon type stuff: they had to work at making these meals terrible. Such is life in paradise, I guess.

The best word to describe the Big Island is "sweeping". That's as in sweeping vistas. I'm thinking specifically of the coffee-growing area south of Kona, the Hamokua coast on the northeast side, and even in the Kohala region where we stayed. There are also probably more contrasts here than anywhere on the planet (at least for such a small area): rainforests, snowcapped mountains, deserts, black, white and green sand beaches, and, of course, lava flows galore. But it's those sweeping vistas that I think of first when I think of the place. There's been only one problem with these vistas: it's been more hazy than for our previous trips here. More on this "vog" later...

The Big Island truly is big. It takes hours to get around or across it. We drove south of Kailua-Kona and toured the Bayview coffee plantation and bought a fare share of their beans. The scenery, gardens and coffee plantations make the area are as beautiful as any on the planet. But it's the Hamokua coast area where I've said before, and again on this trip, that I'd love to live. Once again, great views, and not too much development. It seems almost, but not quite, devoid of people. That's where we hiked quite a ways through the new World Tropical Gardens. Along the way we stopped at Umauma falls - a really beautiful triple tier waterfall and pools.

The running on the Big Island is as awesome as any running anywhere. Although I'd been sick with yet another cold (and never completely recovered from my long-term chest congestion), I ran up the mountain past the village of Waikoloa, up to the area recently hit by the wild-fire. As the sun began to rise, I had great views of all the mountains around me: Mouna Kea, Mouna Loa, Huaalalai, Kohala, but not Haleakala - it was obscured by clouds this time. It's 10 miles up, and my legs felt it - I got slower and slower. When I turned to go back down, I picked up the pace, but even this quad-burning part of the run wasn't exactly easy. But the scenery made it all extremely memorable. I did this run once again on our last day on the island. It was even more awesome, with a great sunrise and mostly clear views of the mountains.

As my cold was beginning to get better, Debbie got it. So we spent a couple days lounging around the resort, where we did manage to get some walking and swimming in. We also made it to Kailua Kona for an evening meal overlooking the bay and the sunset.

It was also hazy at the Pololu valley up at the northern tip of the island. We'd hiked down into the valley before, but this time we were going for the whole enchilada: down into the valley, over to the next ridge and over and down that into the nearly inaccessible Honokana Nui valley. And, of course, back. After a very strenuous 90 minutes of hiking up and down the ridges, we finally got to a point where we could at least see the Honokana Nui valley. It was a beautiful sight from the top, but we couldn't go any further: there was earthquake damage to the trail going down there. Not that we'd have been able to make it anyway -we were tuckered out and still had to get back. Which we did, somehow, manage to do. But those views of both valleys made this a really great hike.

We found out that the haziness we’d been experiencing is called "vog" - volcanic fog. It's caused by the ash, dust, fumes, water vapor and other gasses being emitted from the volcano. It's usually blown away by the trade winds, but those winds have still been "wrong". We did wind up having a few beautiful clear days towards the end of our stay.

We spent a day at Hawaii Volcanos National Park, in part to find the source of the vog. (Not really - we knew what it was.) We listened to a talk by a ranger, did several walks including part of the Kilauea Iki trail (although not the part inside the crater), a short walk to the inside of Kilauea crater itself and a walk in "bird park", which was nice, but we only heard and didn't see too many birds. The exception was a couple of black frankolins. They're like grouse or wild chickens. We did see some bright red Hawaiian Honeycreepers while we were listening to the ranger. We intend to come back again some day (this was our third time here at the park) and hike the entire Kilauea Iki trail.

And that was about it. We had a wonderful visit with Rita, some great hikes and a few excellent meals at Roy’s and other restaurants. Don’t know when we’ll be back, but we’re hoping it’ll be soon.

2007 Florida

We picked up Mom and then Dave and Carol and headed off to Orlando, via Atlanta. Based on his flight experience, Dave has a new horror movie title: Babies on a Plane. Betsy and Ed had dinner for us that night. I had had a cold to begin with, but it had gotten worse during the week, and then much worse still on the plane. Betsy tried to fix me up by giving me a tablespoon of coconut oil. It was sort of like lard, and I figured it would either cure or kill me.

Unfortunately, it did neither. I had what wound up being a chest cold, and/or bronchitis for the rest of the week. Maybe I needed a few more dollops of that stuff.

The four of us stayed at the Lake Roy Beach Inn. Contrary to what we read about it, it seemed dated and not entirely clean. We saw some geckos on the outside of the window of Dave and Carol’s room. Then Carol discovered that they’d been inside at some point as well – they had left their calling cards around the windowsill. All this tended to upset her a bit.

Bright and early the next day we all went to the flea market on route 27 near Winter Haven. Could’ve spent all day there. It’s Americana at its best. We also stopped at the Cleveland Indians Spring Training facility even though they’re not there just yet.

Before heading down to Fort Myers, we stopped at the Florida Aviation Museum. Saw some old planes, and at least one newer warbird. I got a picture of what looks like Mom in the cockpit of one of them. The four of us took off from there, and Betsy, Ed and Mom went back to their place.

Our place in Fort Myers, a 2-bedroom condo at the Pink Shell, was beautiful. It appeared to be newly renovated. Too bad Fort Myers Beach itself had a major issue: seaweed. Although the sand was pure white, there was a large area of seaweed along the shore. At some places it was a foot or more high. And it stunk. We eventually learned that it was due to the channeling of pollutants in Lake Okeechobee out through a river that ended up there in Fort Myers. The river apparently causes the seaweed to wash up there. This is only a recent phenomenon, and no one seems to know what to do about it. The guy scraping the beach said he wasn’t allowed to move it out of the way. Between that gunk and my chest cold, I didn’t go in the ocean the whole time.

We went to a nature preserve on Sanibel Island. It was a self-drive 4-mile tour; we made many stops and saw a whole mess of birds and a small gater. It was pretty neat stuff. After the preserve we continued driving on up to Captiva Island where we’d heard had no seaweed. They lied, but it wasn’t quite as bad.

We also drove down to Naples to visit Aunt Sue and Uncle Jim. Had a nice time – they have a nice condo there. After dinner we walked the Naples pier and then had ice cream.

For our last act we drove to the Everglades for an airboat ride. We went both fast and slow through mangrove forests, and saw a gater in the water coming towards us – especially when the driver placed his hand in the water. We also had some pelicans land on our boat looking for handouts. It was loads of fun. Saw a BIG Honkin Gater later on.

And that was pretty much it. Too bad we didn’t have more time.

2006 Greece

Getting There
The entire 2-week trip – including the cost, which was not insignificant – was passing before my eyes. Due to weather in the New York area (it doesn’t matter what kind of weather; any weather will do it - in this case it was a drop or two of rain), our flight to Newark was delayed by over 2 hours, which would cause us to miss our connection to Frankfort, along with our subsequent flights to Paris and then Athens. Our options? Go ahead and begin missing connections or wait until tomorrow. This latter one wasn’t really an option because we would then miss the beginning of the tour and have to hook up with the group in faraway (from Athens) Kalambaka. God knows how we’d manage that.

So we chose the first option and decided to beg for mercy to anyone wearing a Continental uniform. The third try did it. A lady at the Customer Service Desk spent over an hour with our complicated itinerary and made it sensible and doable. We went straight from Newark to Paris, bypassing Frankfort altogether, and then on to Athens. Not only did this work, it even did so for our luggage as well!

We met our Tour Director, Gordon Spicer upon checking into the Acropolis Select Hotel. Ate moussaka for dinner at God’s Restaurant. Really.

Athens
The city tour of Athens was pretty good. We saw the Panathenic Stadium, used for the first modern Olympic games in 1896, as well as for the 2004 Games’ Marathon finish. We saw the ancient Theater of Dionysis (the god of wine) at the base of the Acropolis, and of course the Acropolis itself.

Acropolis means hill-city, and many ancient Greek cities have them. But when we talk about The Acropolis, we’re talking about the one in Athens. At the top are a few temples in various states of repair, the most famous being the Parthenon. The size and scale of the Parthenon are amazing. It had survived intact for 2,000 years, until bombing in a war between Turkey and Italy caused the roof to collapse. The state of disrepair actually seems to add to its allure. There is a beautiful view of all of Athens from the Acropolis as well. We had seen the top and the Parthenon all lit up the night before.

Why did the Ancient Greeks build so many ruins? This actual query is to be the title of Gordon’s someday-to-be-written book. Even after 37 years of being a tour director, he never ceases to be amazed at the people who take these tours. He’s already assured us that we’ll be in the book as well. Although he’s funny at times, Gordon does seem efficient and competent so far.

It is a long bus ride from Athens in the south to Kalambaka in the north. Along the way we passed Marathon, where the first one took place, the plains of Thessaly, featuring miles of cotton, mountains galore, etc. Once in Kalambaka, Debbie and I dined with Margaret and Peter from the UK and Bernie and Linda from Australia.

Meteora
Meteora is the site of several monasteries near Kalambaka. These Orthodox monasteries are perched atop huge rocks in unfathomable ways. Looking up at them from town, my initial thought was that we could never, in a bazillion years, drive to anywhere near them, but drive near to them we did, and in a bus no less. We toured the Varlaam and Bapbapac monasteries and also stopped at a third one. The views were great from up there; it was not unlike Yosemite. This and other things were good topics of conversation with our new friends from California, Jack and Glorina. Although it was still called a monastery, Bapbapac was actually a nunnery. One of the nuns made sure that all the women who entered were wearing skirts or dresses covering the knees; a wrap could be borrowed if necessary. No one tried to sneak by her for fear of getting slapped with a ruler.

Of course the best part of today’s visit was that I was able to tell anyone who’d listen about my friend who actually joined one of these monasteries. You know, the one that was so strict that the monks were only allowed to speak two words every ten years. After ten years of extremely hard, backbreaking work, my friend went to the head monk and exclaimed, “Hard work.” The head monk replied, “OK. We will note your comments. Now go back to work.” After another ten years of toil, my friend said, “I’m tired.” The head monk replied, “Noted. Now get back to work.” After yet another 10 years, my friend said, “I quit.” The head monk replied, “I’m not surprised. You’ve done nothing but complain for thirty years.

After the monasteries, it was on to Delphi, back in the southern part of Greece. So far we seem to have had moussaka and a Greek salad, complete with a liter of olive oil, every day of the trip.

Delphi
The modern village of Delphi is very nice. Much of the town has a great view of the gulf of Corinth. The Delphi archeological site is most beautiful and serene. Debbie and I walked a long way from the area of Apollo’s Temple to see the famous three columns of the rotunda. We were the only ones there, and it was very quiet and peaceful. We could see why the area had religious significance for the ancient Greeks.

The Oracle of Delphi was actually a series of women who told fortunes for the ancient Greeks; anyone up to and including kings. Legend has it that the Oracle would hear the request and then enter the nearby cave for inspiration before returning to tell the fortune. It is now believed that the Oracles experienced hallucinations resulting from gasses within the cave.

“Calimara” means “good morning” in Greek. I must remember not to wish anyone “calamari”, which means squid. We ate some calamari for lunch at a nice place on a typical Mediterranean beach. Then it was across the bridge to the Peloponnesian peninsula. There are mountains everywhere in Greece. It seems a bit like California in this way, and unfortunately it also has the smog, especially in the south. By evening we made it to Olympia to stay at the Olympia Palace. It’s the nicest of the hotels we’ve been at. The food and location were great, and it’s just a short walk to the Olympic site.

Olympia
This is the place where it all began in 776 B.C. The ancient games were held every four years for over a millennium. Pope/Roman Emperor Theodosius I put an end to them in 394 A.D. I find it interesting that the Greeks kept track of the years by the Olympiad along with the name of the winner of the sprint from that year. As we walked through the awesome tunnel and into the original stadium, I couldn’t help but get some goose bumps. Of course I had to take a run back and forth on the approximately 200-meter course. Other folks eventually got the idea to do so too. By mutual consent, we all decided not to run naked like the Greeks did.

Nearby is the ruins of the temple to Olympian Zeus, which contained one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, a giant gold and marble statue of Zeus. It was destroyed by the same Emperor Theodosius I who put an end to the games. What a guy.

Our tours of these places is falling into a pattern set by Gordon: get an early wake-up call, go to breakfast early, get the luggage ready and out of the room early, and get on with the site-seeing early. Although there is some grumbling, everyone realizes that getting to these sites early is extremely important. We are beating all the huge crowds that are just beginning to arrive in caravans of tour busses just as we are leaving. The crowds, not to mention the heat, must be really awful in the summer. Speaking of heat, we’ve had wonderful weather: the days have been sunny and the temperatures have ranged from about 45 to 50 at night to 65 to 70 during the days. Yes, this is the time to go.

We can’t help but believe that the ancient Greeks, or at least the Romans who followed, had better plumbing than the modern Greeks do. Most toilets are somewhat functional, except for a few places where they are literally just a hole in the ground. The hotel showers are a topic of conversation for everyone though. So small that one can’t turn around; made so that the water floods into and all over the tiny bathroom; shower curtains that wind up sticking to your body; I could go on and on.

Epidaurus and Nafplia
We toured the ancient theater of Epidaurus, which seats 14,000, has fantastic acoustics, and is still used to this day.

The city of Nafplia was our next destination. It is a beautiful town along the sea: very Mediterranean, and a nice place to walk. We ate dinner at a nice outdoor restaurant in an alley along with Peter and Margaret. Glorina and Jack were nearby as well.

Mycenae and Corinth
The Mycenae archeological site is hundreds of years older than the others we’ve seen. It’s famous as the home of Agamemnon who, according to the Iliad, led the Greeks in the Trojan War around 1100 B.C. Parts of the site are older still, and much is still being excavated. We saw the famous Lion’s Gate (amongst the 18-foot wide city walls) and the Beehive tomb. Unfortunately we had a foggy day and couldn’t see much of the surrounding scenery from the Mycenaean acropolis, which we were told was outstanding. Maybe we’ll see it next time we’re around.

We subsequently drove on to Corinth for a brief stop. This is the place where Paul gave his letters to the Corinthians. He obviously didn’t trust the Greek Postal Service.

Athens
Once back in Athens, Jack and Glorina, Bill and Jenny from Sydney, Shirley and Ray from Fort Worth, and the two of us all trekked over to the Benaki Museum. A mixture of art and artifacts were there for the viewing. We walked back through the Plaka district and stopped for dinner at a nice outdoor café on a square.

Cape Sounion
Since there was nothing better to do in the morning before the cruise, we took an optional side trip to Cape Sounion. There we saw Poseidon’s Temple, which commands a spectacular panoramic view of the Aegean and Ionian Seas.

Cruisin’
That first week sure had been busy – on the go every day. The theory was that once we got on the cruise ship that we’d be able to finally relax in the lap of luxury and high living. Sure, we knew that the MS Perla wasn’t going to be newest and fanciest ship in the fleet, but we went with it because it was priced right through Cosmos, and because it had a great itinerary.

First the good news. The Perla’s food was excellent. We weren’t enamored with the buffet, but the food in the main dining room was great. The ship’s entertainment was also good. The five or six singers and dancers were the same every night except for the occasional magic show, and that was good as well. The best part was that we wouldn’t need to pack and unpack every day; we could unpack and stay put for the week.

The bad news begins with, unpack to where? Our stateroom was literally much smaller than our bedroom closet in our last house. There were a couple tiny drawers and an itsy bitsy closet. The walls were paper thin, so that we could hear everything going on in the three adjacent rooms. My 18-inch bed was against the wall, so that I was only inches away from the guy in the room next to us, and he snored like a grizzly bear. I used earplugs. Modern Greek plumbing being as it is, bad smells emitting from the bathroom drains had Debbie stuffing towels into all of them. I was half expecting us to begin having Oracle-like hallucinations. And leave it to the Greeks to come up with one-sided toilet paper; heaven help you if you use the rough side….

So although we weren’t expecting the Ritz, the ship was still below our expectations. In spite of all this, we were having a wonderful time. This was mostly because we were spending so much time with all our new Cosmos friends. 28 of the original 42 had opted for continuing on with the cruise, and we were almost like a family now; a family with Father Goose, Gordon. A few of these folks that we became very good friends with, besides those already mentioned, include Becky from B.C., Valda from Rotorua, N.Z., Jeff from Oakland, C.J. and Lay Chen from Malaysia, Gail and Joanne from near Brisbane, Joan from Canberra, and (Panama) Jack, along with Sandy and Al from Florida.

“Hit Di Road Jack!” As good as the entertainment was, these Eastern Europeans were not quite Ray Charles’ material. Later one of them gave Greek dancing lessons: “Step, step behind, keek; step, step behind, keek.” We did only some dancing, but the Greek music was just as our old friend Linda Rafalski had described: “The music starts slowly, and then goes faster and faster, as does the dancing. It ends at its fastest, and then everyone yells OPA! Then the next piece begins slowly, goes faster and faster, and everyone yells OPA! Then the next piece begins slowly… and so on.”

To get from Athens to Istanbul, we cruised through the night and much of the next day. We had hoped to arrive in the afternoon in time to get to the Grand Bazaar. Unfortunately for some reason the Turkish government held us from entering the Dardenells straights for several hours and we didn’t arrive until evening.

Istanbul
Arriving after dark, there wasn’t time to see or do much. We took a short walk before discovering that the laser show we were looking for was best seen from the deck of the ship. We managed to get back in time to catch part of it. The show was part of the celebration for the next day’s Turkey Independence Day celebration.

The following morning I got out for a run in which I made an attempt to run from Europe, across a bridge to Asia. The bridge turned out to be further away than it looked, and I had to turn back as I was running out of time. I have never seen so many flags. Big ones and little ones were on display everywhere for the holiday.

Our all-day city tour took us to the Blue Mosque, one of Islam’s largest and most impressive, the Aya Sofia museum, once a huge Christian cathedral dating from the Byzantine Empire and later converted to a mosque, and finally Topkapi Palace, which, along with one piece of our furniture, dates from the Ottoman Empire. Topkapi provides great views of Istanbul, along with relics of Mohammed himself. The jewels on display, including an 86 karat diamond and some equally huge emeralds, put Great Britain’s Crown Jewels to shame.

Turkey has a secular government, and although well over 90% Islamic, is not fundamentally so like several other countries. Our guide covered her head whilst in the Blue Mosque, but explained that even this was optional. About halfway through the day we were walking around when we heard the noon call to prayer blasted from the Blue Mosque’s minarets. It was all pretty exotic stuff.

Mykonos
When you imagine a Greek Island, Mykonos is what you think of. All the houses and other buildings, even the 400 or so churches, are painted white, and the whitewashing must be done a couple times a year. Only some of the trim may contain bits of color. Even the space between the stones on the walkways is white. We strolled through town, stopping at churches, the hill-top windmills, and for the town’s famous pelican (the one that tried to swallow Gail, whole) before the rain began. Glorina, Jack, Debbie and I made it under an awning to wait it out. Soon it was a storm of biblical proportions. We made a run for it when it abated a bit. Our shoes were soaked from having to step through the flooded areas of the streets.

So much for Mykonos. At least we had had a bit of time there to enjoy it.

Patmos
Yet another of the picturesque Greek Islands is Patmos. We took in some of the scenery before heading to the Cave of the Apocalypse, where John wrote the book of Revelation. The cave is part of an Orthodox Monestary, and a liturgy was taking place at the time, so we had to be quiet and respectful for a change. We did see the large crack in the ceiling that is traditionally thought to have been caused by either God, an earthquake, or both, inspiring the book. I think if I was sitting there and an earthquake caused a crack like that, I’d have a Revelation too.

Kusadasi and Ephesus
After just a few hours on Patmos, we sailed for Kusadasi, on the mainland of Turkey, arriving mid-afternoon. Nearby is the ancient Roman city of Ephesus. The size and scale were enormous; the place must have rivaled Rome itself in its day. We saw a theater similar to the others we’ve been to, a library, a brothel, and everyone’s favorite, the toilets, which still looked usable. Saint Paul preached and wrote (the book of Ephesians) here as well.

Later we went to the Kusadasi bazaar where we were physically pulled into every shop. We wound up bargaining for some leather jackets, but in the end said no because Debbie’s didn’t fit, and I was too afraid of being swindled even though the price seemed great.

Rhodes
Rhodes is a large island, and we spent the day there. In the morning we hopped on a bus and toured the town of Lindos, a beautiful little town along the Mediterranean. It’s been continuously inhabited for over 3,000 years. The cobblestone steps were so treacherous and slippery that Debbie and many of the others turned back from the trip to the town’s acropolis. Who thought those cobblestones would be a good idea? Could it be one of the Greek master plumbers? Though smaller, this acropolis is not unlike the one in Athens, and it did have wonderful views.

There was another heavy rainstorm, but in the afternoon we walked over to Rhodes Old Town, a medieval walled city within the larger Rhodes city proper. What a great place – it was just like being at a permanent Renaissance or Middle Ages fair. It was also a bit like Prague. The town’s port also once contained the Colossus of Rhodes, a huge statue to welcome incoming ships and another of the seven wonders of the ancient world.

Debbie and I managed to get extremely lost and became a bit frightened that we wouldn’t make it back to the ship before it sailed away. A little old local woman figured out that we were off track and pointed the way, and we made it in time.

Crete
This would be our final pile of rocks: the palace of Knossis. It is an entire city contained within a single palace, which contained over 1,600 rooms. These rocks were part of the oldest civilization we’d seen yet, that of the Minoan Empire of 4,000 years ago. This empire rivaled that of the Egyptians.

In theory the collapse of the Minoan empire was precipitated by the largest tsunami in recorded history caused by the 1700 B.C. Santorini volcano. The disaster to the Minoans of Crete as well as the civilization on Santorini itself is probably the source of the legend of Atlantis.

Santorini
We only had a few hours in the afternoon and evening to see this spectacular island. It was certainly the most beautiful of any we’d seen, and that is saying something. The scale of what’s left from the volcano is enormous, and the town is perched high up on the rim. After tendering over to the island, we took a cable car to the top. What a view! Along with Glorina and Jack, we walked for several miles along the rim. The sunset was great from up there.

Athens
Yes, we were back to the Acropolis Select for the third time. Time to say goodbye to Gordon, who would soon be married in London. All agreed that he did a great job to enable us to have a wonderful holiday.

Would we relax and brace ourselves for the next day’s long arduous trip? Naaah! Even though we were tired, several of us (Jenny, Bill, Glorina, Jack, C.J., Ley Chen, Becky, Joan and Debbie and I) made our way to the National Archeological Museum via the metro. It was by far the best museum we’d seen. There was the bronze statue of Poseiden, now thought to be Zeus, the golden death mask of Agamemnon and many other treasures. After lunch at a sidewalk café, we walked the long road back. Along the way we ventured through a flea market (it was very similar to the ones in America), a meat market with entire carcasses hanging around, and a fish market. We also walked around the ancient agora, a market place dating from the golden age of Greece. Turned out that I had lied about no more rocks and ruins.

By the time we arrived back at the hotel, Debbie had had it. She had succumbed to the cold/flu virus that had been going around. We ate dinner at God’s again and said goodbye to all our friends. We’ll miss them, one and all, for the trip was very much enriched by the experience of having them with us.

2006 Dan in Iberia (Madrid, Lisbon)

It was the very second after they closed the door and announced that cell phones were to be shut off that I had my panic attack. It was Sunday night and I would arrive in Madrid on Monday morning. Yet I had made the hotel reservation for Sunday night, checking out on Tuesday. I really had only needed one night (Monday), and I was worried that they would cancel my whole reservation when I failed to show up on Sunday. I snuck my phone out and clandestinely called Debbie, leaving her a message to contact the hotel. She did, and all was ok there on Monday morning. Very very modern hotel with thin tv, fancy lighting, computer and spray-all-over shower. 

The second panic attack occurred while I was unpacking. I forgot my electrical adapter! This could be very bad - I only have a couple hours of battery life in my laptop and would need far more than that. I asked at the hotel lobby where I could get one, and they suggested a long walk to a Best Buy type store. No luck. The store guy suggested this shopping mall. More long walking, still no luck. Finally, back at the hotel, they arranged for a cab to get me to a large kmart type store (Hipercor), where I finally did get my adapter. 

Now that most of the day was gone, I had little time for sightseeing. I learned to take a bus and two subway trains to get to the city center. It was pretty neat down there with lots of shopping and restaurants. I didn't really get to see much that was historic or cultural however; just typical European city life. Unlike other parts of Europe, relatively few Spaniards speak English. This provides many cultural experiences in and of itself. 

There were no major problems with work, and I made it from Madrid to Lisbon with no major mishaps. Except of course for the problem of using ATMs. I tried 5 different machines in Madrid before they put me on the fraud list and called Debbie to tell on me. They were not allowing the transactions in the first place because Spain is a fraud nightmare for them. Debbie straightened them out. There were also some connectivity problems that kept me up on Tuesday night. 

I spent the day on Wednesday doing a full day tour of Lisbon and the surrounding area. Portugal is really beautiful, and there is certainly more to see. Today I saw recreations of: 

the Golden Gate Bridge (the Portuguese version is called the “Bridge 25th of April”), the Rio De Janeiro statue of Christ, and the palace of Versailles. All were actually pretty impressive, generally built by the same folks who built the originals. There was lots more as well. 

 · The famous Tower of Belem: a castle on the river to guard the city. It’s sort of symbolic of Portugal. · The modern monument dedicated to Portuguese maritime discoveries. The name says it all. 

· Mosteiro dos Jeronimos: a famous old monastery and cathedral in Belem, and an excellent example of Manueline architecture. I’m not sure I can describe this style, but I may know it now when I see it. Of course it only exists on Portugal. 

· The Coach Museum. The Portuguese are justifiably proud to have the finest coach museum in the world. Don’t ever settle for one of those lesser coach museums; this one is truly the best. By the way, it’s coach as in a buggy pulled by horses, not a sports team chief. 

· Port wine tasting (a tablespoon) and a taste of Belem pastry – pudding in a puff pastry shell. Yum. 

· A walk through the Alfama barrio. It’s a neighborhood that’s famous for its narrow streets and alleys. After a very long walk to the hotel and back again during lunch, I continued on, and saw: 

· The palace of Queluz. It’s the Versailles of Portugal. I kept wondering if they call the building in the Paris area the “Queluz of France”. This one really was very impressive as well, though. Even the gardens reminded me of the real thing. 

· The town of Sintra. It’s a medieval town in the hills. It’s very picturesque, but I didn’t do so well with my photos there. I couldn’t even find the palace on the hill. But it was a neat place anyway. 

· A couple stops along the Atlantic coast, one to see the ocean battering some rocks and the other to the town of Estoril, where there is some tourist activity and a casino. 

 That’s about it. Did I mention that it was a “full” day? My day of work in Lisbon was busy, but I made it through. The client office is in a set of ultra-modern buildings in a different part of Lisbon. More to see if I ever come back. Here’s hoping that I do.

2006 Dan in Central Europe (Budapest, Prague, Bucharest)

Dan’s Trip to Central Europe – July, 2006

Budapest
There was the usual confusion and disorientation that occurs when one travels overnight. This resulted in me almost missing my connection from Amsterdam to Budapest after I stood for too long in the wrong line for a boarding pass. But I made it to my very nice hotel room overlooking the Danube.

The Danube, by the way, isn’t entirely blue. It’s more of a slate gray. Also from my window I can see Castle Hill, including the Royal Palace, the famous Chain Bridge, part of Gelert Hill, and other parts of Buda. Hilly Buda is on the west side of the river, while flat Pest, where I’m located, is on the east. I can remember this because of a trick that Debbie told to me. Buda-Pest reads the way it does on a map: Buda on the left and Pest on the right, with the north-south Danube in between.

Debbie and I had fun trying to communicate with each other for free over the internet, using Skype. We’ve still got some kinks to work out, but we did manage to talk.

My work schedule appears to be very busy; I don’t think I’ll have very much time for sightseeing other than a few hours on Saturday and all day Sunday. As an effort towards making the most of this, I took a long 2+ hour walk to see the sights. I started by walking across the famous 1840’s era Chain Bridge, which had entertainment and other outdoor festivities at both ends. Heading north along the river, I had a great view of the Parliament Building, famous for its gothic style. I also went onto Margaret Island, a large island in the Danube, connected to both banks by a bridge. There’s a running track all the way around the island, so I’ll be spending at least a few of my mornings there.

For my morning run I managed to get back to Margaret Island where I did two circuits. The nice soft rubberized track is there for almost the entire circumference, which is a bit more than 3 miles. It’s a few miles to get there and back, and it was getting warm, but what a nice run it was.

My all-day Sunday sightseeing began with a walk across the Elizabeth Bridge and then up, up, up Gellert Hill. There are many paths, but they all seem to lead to the top, and they’re all steep. At the top is the Citadella, or Citadel, a fortress built during the 1848-1849 War of Independence. Also at the top is the Liberation Monument, a statue commemorating liberation from the Soviets. Budapest abounds in statues; there are probably more of them than people here. I’m mostly just kidding, but this one is queen of them all. You can see her from everywhere in the city and she’s huge. The views from the citadel are also the best around. I explored a bit, and then headed down the opposite side.

At the base of the hill on that opposite side is the Gellert Hotel, which includes a spa and famous baths. Although it was very hot, and I could have used one, I wasn’t sure of the clothing requirements, and therefore didn’t partake. I did see the outdoor pools, where bathing suits were, I noticed, indeed required.

I then walked around Gellert Hill and over to, and up Castle Hill. Did I mention that it was hot? This was about the time that Debbie would start calling it a Death March. I somehow managed to stay vertical, and spent a few hours exploring the shops and architecture at the top. There are all sorts of churches and museums. I certainly could have spent more time there, but it was time to go over to see the changing of the guard at the Royal Palace. The Royal Palace, aka Buda Castle, is very impressive. It was partially destroyed during World War II, but has been mostly restored. It’s humongous – took me a whole week to walk around the dang thing.

Budapest is an incredibly beautiful city. It’s almost hard to believe that my father’s family is from here, with some possibly still around. “Your name is Hungarian, no?” Every group I met with had at least one person ask me about my background. They all seemed interested to hear about my family. I only wish I could have told them more.

I did get to try some traditional Hungarian foods: Chicken Paprikas (not too different than Debbie’s, except maybe a bit spicier), Goulash, and of course lots of bakery.

Work was even busier than I had expected, so there would be no more sightseeing in Budapest. I did manage to spend the second to last evening at the Spoon Café, which is a boat more or less permanently moored in the Danube. Two of my clients, Gabor Barta and Krisztian Molnar took me there. It was a beautiful setting as the sun set in the Buda hills and the Buda Castle and Chain Bridge lights came on as darkness enveloped us. Pretty good Hungarian food there too.

Somehow I couldn’t help but notice: the Hungarian women I worked with were extremely beautiful. Since Debbie may read this, I’ll try not to notice such things in Prague. Yes, Budapest was great – I only wish I had had more time there. Now on to Prague.


Prague
Work has been so busy that as of my first couple of days, I haven’t seen much of Prague at all. I did get to see some of it during the rides to and from work, and on my morning run. But not much. This weekend will be different; I plan to see a lot.

I did have an interesting cultural experience. Public transportation is always a cultural experience for me, and Prague turns out to be no different. While I was able to walk, albeit a long walk, to work in Budapest, it’s much too far to walk in Prague. Taxis are a bit of a pain too, so I resolved to take the tram, which is a slow rapid transit type of thing. After asking a bazillion questions (where do I catch it, which one, what direction, how do I buy a ticket, how do I stamp it, etc), I somehow got everything right (at least the first time) and got to work ok.

I FINALLY got caught up with work, just in time for the weekend. Czech this out: I worked with Ludvik Cermak (from Pilsen by the way, and he pronounced it, “Chermock”), I’ve been eating livance, bread dumplings with roast duck and cabbage, bread dumplings with weiner schnitzel and stew, and so on. Didn’t like that pun about czeching it out? OK – no more. I should note, however, that in the news here, there was a Czech Scientist and an American Scientist studying bears in Alaska. A whole family of bears came upon them and ate them completely up. Authorities tracked the bears down and killed them. Then they opened up the female bear up, and found the American still alive inside. Of course he said, “The Czech’s in the male.” Sorry, I lied about the puns.

It was bound to happen. After about 19 miles of being mostly lost and running on mostly cobblestone streets and sidewalks, I was in my final mile nearing the hotel, and crash! Yes, I tripped on a cobblestone. No, I didn’t hurt myself – I landed mostly on my hands. My biggest concern was whether anyone saw me. As I was running, I couldn’t help but observe that whereas Budapest seemed to have more statues than people, Prague seems to have more castles than people.

Some musical pieces seem to describe places very well: think of Appalachian Spring by Copland, the New World Symphony by Dvorak and the Hungarian Dances by Brahms. But none are better than the Moldau by Smetana. When I hear this music, I can feel in my bones that I’m in Prague. Each time I turn on the TV here, that music is playing as part of the hotel channel, which is just an ad for the establishment here. But I always let it play for a while – I never tire of it, and it really gets me in that “Pragean” mood.

Moldau, by the way, is the English/German way of saying the name of the river that runs through Prague. The Czechs call it Vltava. I can’t for the life of me figure out how they get from an English word from these Czech spellings. Wenceslas Square is Vaclavske Namesti, Charles Bridge is Karluv Most, and of course Old Town Square is Staromestske Namesti. Either Czechs can’t spell, or we can’t pronounce these places. Maybe both.

One would hope that with place names such as those, that at least street signs would be helpful. They are, unfortunately, non-existent. And, according to Czech law, there aren’t any streets at all that go straight. I think I saw some tourists that were still lost from the 12th century. I myself got as lost as I’ve been for many years during this morning’s run. But I couldn’t think of any better place on the planet to be lost in.

Yes, Prague is simply not believable. It’s castle upon castle. Almost any one of the buildings here would be a fantastic historical sight in and of it’s own. And there are THOUSANDS of them. Each one is unique in character, history and beauty.

After my run in which I saw a whole lot of Prague, I saw a whole lot of it again by taking a city tour. It was pretty good, but I probably could have managed on my own too. We drove through New Town (new being relative here – it was built in the 14th century) and through some other parts, and then walked around Prague Castle and the Castle District, the Lesser Town District, the Charles Bridge, and finally Old Town, including Old Town Square. During the tour, I heard a lot about Wenceslas, the patron saint of the Czech Republic. I mentioned to the guide that I had attended St. Wenceslas School and church. “Oh”, she said. (Not really – she was actually very interested.)

After resting up, I decided to walk over to Wenceslas Square in New Town, since I had only seen that by bus. The statue of Wenceslas is one of the most imposing I’ve seen anywhere – except maybe the Statue of Liberty, and perhaps Budapest’s Liberation Monument. But the setting here is really great.

I also walked over to Charles Square, and then over to the Charles Bridge and back again through Old Town.

I said I wouldn’t notice the Czech women. But I lied about this too. They are beautiful as well, and - let me put this as delicately as possible – they all have those big boobs. It took a while, but a few days later I was thinking about this statement when the irony hit me like a falling piano. Here I was, a wild and crazy guy from America looking at those big Czech breasts.

For my second long run in two consecutive days I pulled the “get lost in Prague” trick again. At least I didn’t trip on a cobblestone this time. I found my way north, up through Letenske Park, where I ran yesterday, and into Stromovska Park. It’s a woodsy place, but there’s also a canal and another river running through. Lots of good running there.

Having spent a day exploring Prague, I had it figured that I’d seen it all and had booked a trip to a castle outside of town, somewhere in the hills of Bohemia. Sounded good until the morning, when I started thinking that I’d had enough of tours; I’d be fine with exploring inside of Prague on my own some more. So I canceled. There had to be at least a couple more things to see.

After about an hour of walking (mostly up), I arrived at Prague Castle once again. I felt there was more to see, and I had an unused ticket for a climb to the top of St. Vitas Cathedral, all 300 to 400 stairs or whatever. The cathedral wasn’t open, so I had some time to kill. I walked up some more to Strahovsky Klaster, a monastery up in the hills. They have a famous old library, and the inside of the church looks almost like the Sistine chapel. No photography, of course.

After some further exploration of the Hrdcany, or Castle District (there’s that Czech spelling again), I squeezed my way between the throngs of people, and into St. Vitas for the climb up the tower. I pulled out my ticket and realized it was the wrong one – it was a used one from something else from yesterday. Yes, I could’ve bought one, but when I thought about it, I determined that it just wasn’t to be.


Bucharest
I’ve learned that it’s not pronounced “boo-ka-rest” as I thought, it’s really “bew-ka-rest”. Keep this in mind if you ever go there.

The Romanian people I’ve been meeting with all have heavy 5-oclock shadows, and thick, bushy mustaches and eyebrows. And you should see the men. I’m 100% kidding about this. I did really work with one lady who had a pronounced ‘widow’s peak’. That’s the Dracula hairdo look with the pointy area of the hairline. Kinda the opposite of what I have.

Getting to and from work is an adventure each and every time. Taxis are plentiful and cheap, and they are about the only way for me to get across town from the hotel. There is only one rule for driving here: there are no rules. That’s not entirely true – there really are a few traffic laws that are followed, such as: always turn left from the right lane, speed up if the traffic ahead of you is slowing down, and use the horn a lot in the event that you happen to be traveling toward oncoming traffic in their lane or if you happen to be going the wrong way on a one-way street. For some odd reason, the traffic really does stop for traffic signals. Go figure.

I’m staying right across the street from the Palace of Parliament, one of the world’s largest buildings. I can see it from my hotel window. It was started by the communist regime and finished after they were overthrown. It took me 15 minutes to run around it this morning. The running here is ok by the way – but there’s lots of air pollution. The funny thing is that the Marriott hotel that I’m staying in appears to be built in the same style as the palace (it’s very fancy) and is almost as big. It’s actually a bit too ostentatious for my taste.

Having gotten used to running circuits around the palace and the adjacent park, I finally decided to be a bit more adventurous for my last run in Bucharest. I went around the palace and kept going down a long boulevard, stumbling my way into the city center. I guess I hadn’t seen it from the many different routes I’d taken by taxi. It’s fairly interesting with a fountain, a central square, and commercial activity all around. My run also took me for several miles along a canal that bisects the city. Pretty decent running, but I’ll be happy when I’m running at home again. I did also head back to the hotel to get the camera. Took a couple of the city center, got one more of the palace, and some of me running in the park as well. In the evening I did some more exploring of the city center when there were more people around. Their ‘old town’ area has some shops and restaurants, but it’s pretty run down. I saw some of the still-present bullet-holes in the buildings from the revolution that occurred here in the late 80’s. the square in the middle does have a nice fountain and is surrounded by more modern shopping, not to mention advertisements.

I think they’re going to let me go home now, based on my mostly good behavior. I’ll try to stay good so I don’t have to come back.

2006 Dan in Dusseldorf

Out of all the places for phase 1 of this client project, Germany wouldn't have been my top choice. Spain or Italy sound much nicer. Not so sure about the UK. But Germany it is, and here I am. The other problem was missing the Cleveland Marathon this weekend. Nothing I could do about that either.

Getting here was somewhat uncomfortable, as most long flights are. I did manage some sleep on the way from JFK to Amsterdam. The flight from Amsterdam to Dusseldorf was only about 40 minutes in a puddle jumper.

Upon arriving at the hotel at about 2pm, I tried to call home, since I had figured it to be 8pm there. When Debbie didn't answer after repeated tries I started to panic - she had driven home from Connecticut, and should have arrived hours earlier. The panic was worse because I couldn't call anyone else - all my numbers are in my cell phone which was at home since it wouldn't work here. Of course I finally found out that Cleveland is 6 hours BEHIND Dusseldorf, not ahead of it. So it was still morning there, and Debbie wouldn't be home for hours.

Early on, I had only eaten at the hotel and at the client cafeteria. Nothing really great to speak of, but lots and lots of volume. Breakfast (and today, lunch) buffets sure don't help when it comes to controlling intake. Some of the food is quite interesting - the white asparagus as a main course is very good. The waitresses will tell you to eat it because it's good for you. Yeah, but not the gallon of hollandaise you smother it in. You can still order meat or fish as a side dish. Other German favorites abound as well. I feel like I'll weigh a ton when I get back.

Without a car, and a couple miles away from the city center, there's not much to do (except work) and I'm not getting out much. I run in the morning, and walk in the evening, mostly along the Rhine River. It's wonderfully serene, with very wide park-like areas on both banks. And there are walk, bike and run paths galore all over the city, with several stretching for miles and miles along the river.

Work is ok. The client contacts all speak English, but some are hard to understand. The counts can be intense because of the language and because some are tightly scheduled. The good news is that there isn't an over-abundance of follow-on work. So I do have some time to myself in the evenings.

After a few days of hotel food, I finally did venture out some. Yesterday Pam and I walked along the Rhine to a restaurant that I had discovered right along the river. It was nice eating out on the back deck overlooking some yachts. The folks didn't speak much English, but we managed - I wound up with a ball-o-burger meat with fried eggs on top for 7 euros. Pam got filet mignon for 8 euros. Then today we figured out the subway/train situation enough to ride it to downtown and old town Dusseldorf. Being a stranger in a strange land, especially when you don't speak the language means that you spend an awful lot of time being lost, dazed and confused.

Old town is like a typical European town with cobblestone streets, shopping, and several nice restaurants and bars. We ate at a German place where I sampled 4 types of sausage with kraut and fries. This on top of the appetizer of tons of cheese with bread. This is fat/cholesterol heaven.

Speaking of lost and confused, we somehow found our way over to Cologne (via a train from the main station) the next day. More cobblestone streets, bars, restaurants and shopping. But there were two differences: this is the actual home of the original cologne, and there's one mother of a cathedrals here. It seemed to me that it put Notre Dame to shame. We took a $4 english tour and learned about the history of the place. Turns out the the Magi (yes, the original three wise guys) are supposedly buried there by the altar. How's that for history? Then we climbed something on the order of 350-400 feet to the top of the tower. As Lori had said, you must have bats in your belfry to do something like that. Quite a view from up there though.

Every morning I make the usual choices about how long, far, fast to run, etc., but also one of four more choices: east or west bank of the Rhine, and north or south. Today it was south on the east bank, and it wasn't the greatest, even though the footing was good - too much industry there. I've got it figured out now: for longer runs, north along east bank is best, and for shorter runs, south on the west bank rules.

There were two choices Pam and I could think of to see more of the best of Dusseldorf: take the train to a palace built in the 1800s (supposedly rivaling Versailles) and take a city tour. In order to get a more thorough and varied outlook, we went for the city tour. After walking around old town and exploring some more very old churches, we got on the bus. The speaker spoke German first and then English, and it was a bit distracting. After riding around town for a while we got on a boat for a river tour. That was pretty neat. Then the tour wound up going up to the Rhine tower which is 168 meters high - way above the surrounding buildings. But only a little higher than we climbed yesterday. We could see Cologne, our hotel, way up and down the river, etc. Pretty neat too.

So the tour was decent. We were lucky with the weather - it was cloudy, but at least there was no rain like we had yesterday. As a result, I left my umbrella at a restaurant. I think I'd still like to see the palace though.

No discussion of experiences in a foreign land would be complete without a note about bathrooms. Pam and I tried everything we could think of when asking if there was one in the Dusseldorf main train station: men/ladies/women's room, toilets, rest rooms, potties, you name it. We got the same answer from two different information persons: There aren't any of those in Dusseldorf. A bit later on while we were still wandering in the station, Pam asked what "WC" means. That's when it dawned on me: having been to Europe before, I should have known what to ask for. One other thing: there are public walk-in urinals all over town. They have a little boy peeing logo on them. Very handy if you're of a gender who is able to stand during the act. No help for sitting type genders.

For the second to the last evening, Pam and I went back to old town to shop for a few last-minute souvenirs and to eat dinner. Picked up a couple things, and the Agentine/Spanish steak place was really good. Then it was time to take the subway back. We thought we had these things figured out really well. The U77 comes closest to the hotel, but it stops running at 7:30pm and also doesn't go on weekends. That's ok, because we can also take the U70, U74 or U76, which are only a little farther away. It was 7:50 and we were waiting for a U74 or U76 when we saw a U77 come by on a different than usual track. Pam said, "Let's catch that one", but as we were getting on, I had a few reservations: 1) it was on the wrong track, 2) it was after hours, 3) based on 1 and 2, it may have possibly been going the wrong way. I mentioned being dubious, but continued to get on anyway. As the doors closed there came two more reservations: 4) we were the only people on the train and 5) one guy outside was wagging his finger at us in a strange manner.

The train left and after a few minutes pulled up to stop at a subway-train graveyard. There didn't appear to be any way to get out without walking on the tracks, although this turned out to be not completely the case. As the lights began to go out in the train, I said something on the order of, "we're in deep s__t!". We ran up to discuss the situation with the driver, who smiled but didn't speak English at all, except to say, "10 minutes, one stop". After moving over to a different train, he got us going back to the station again after the mandatory stupid-American 10-minute penalty waiting period. There we were able to finally get off and then onto the U74 for the ride home.