On the overnight train from Gdansk to Krakow

We wanted adventure, we got adventure, here in a sleeping car with a bunk bed en route from Gdansk to Krakow. Our Polish friends all came to see us off at the station near midnight – Adam and his mother, Michel and his girlfriend Anna ( who came with a parting gift – bottle of Goldwasser, the Gdansk liquor that includes visible flakes of Gold. (See foto below) Our luggage is pretty boozy…D already has a bottle of Ukrainian vodka he got for a gift.

Our Polish friends took care of us well throughout our three day trip, eager to show us around and very generous, which was very sweet and gave us some insights into real life in Gdansk and Poland that we would not have gotten otherwise. yesterday, Adam and his mother ( in another foto below) picked us up and whisked us off to the Bishops cathedral, home and park landscaped with lovely flower beds. There was a Saturday morning organ concert in the cathedral and my eyes were not deceiving me: the gold trumpets of the angel statues embedded in the ornate organ really did move around when the music played. They also drove us past Lech walecsa ‘s house nearby. Then Michal picked us up and drove us about an hour away to Malbork Castle, an enormous 13th century castle housing Teutonic Knights from Germany who were also, oddly, monks as well as hired guns for Poland to fight Russia who later ended up fighting and defeating Poland. At night, we went to The modern high rise apartment outside the old town where Adam and his mother live for a huge meal of cold cuts, various salads and cheeses and meat spreads and chunks of white cream with a layer of red jello with strawberries. Next stop, the Baltic Sea pier in Gdansk where there was a lively disco and some restaurants and some people swimming in the dark cold water. From there we went to the high tech domed observatory of adam’s former school where he showed us Saturn and various stars through a telescope. We didn’t get back to the hotel until about 12:30 pm.

This morning, Adam picked us up and we went to the very interesting Roads to Freedom exhibit documenting the Solidarity Movement, complete with replicated shops showing the scarcity during communist times and lots of test old photos and footage of the struggle during the 1970s and 1980s. A new larger museum is in the making but I really liked the simplicity of this one.

Adam handed us off to Michal and Anna who drove us to the nearby resort seaside town of Sopot which was packed with vacationers on a spectacular summer day. We met up with Michal’s mother and had very good pasta and risotto at one of the many busy restaurants surrounding a wide plaza that leads to a long wide pier jutting out into the Baltic, and a little marina with very large pleasure boats. you had to pay to walk the pier, which was a bit surprising. we were joined by some very well healed pele, including some stunning, presumably Polish young women.

Michel and Anna patiently joined us as we shopped for some amber gifts back in Gdansk on Mariacka Street, then Adam and his mom returned and took us back to their house for dinner, shopping at. Huge tesco for train provisions and a visit at sunset to the Dramatic 1950s era monument across the river from old town marking the start of World War Two. What a visit. We loved seeing our friends (Michael, Adam, Anna who we last saw in Des Moines in 2009) and their lovely mothers and city. Here’s hoping we meet again.

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Reunion in gdansk

D. Arrived this morning from Bucharest after 13 days of touring farms in Ukraine, Moldova and Romania. Sight for sore eyes and we had a lot to catch up on. The Gotyk Hotel where we are staying is charming. (See top photo) It’s alllegedly the oldest house in Gdansk, circa 1451, on one of Gdansk’s most beautiful streets, Mariacka Street ( see second photo) in the shadow of the enormous St. Mary’s church,the world’s largest brick church. Hotel is small with old world decor with Gothic flourishes but modern conveniences.

The Old Town, meticulously restored after being bombed to bits during WWII almost looks like it could be in Holland or Belgium, with beautifully adorned flat fronted buildings with murals and statutes and gargoyles. At the end of our street, there is the river that leads to the Baltic Sea. The riverside street is lined with amber shops and tourist stuff but nearby are refreshingly gritty big ships. There is also a tall ships festival here this weekend so there are lots of old pleasure boats and reenact-ors dressed in old military garb (word has it they will stage some sort of naval battle tomorrow.) This place is packed with tourists.

After eating some delicious pierogi at Pierogarnia U Dzika (see last photo), checking out the distinctive embroidery of the Kushubian region of Poland ( whose residents have a distinctive culture and language) at Galerie Sztuki Kaszubskie and chatting with a Swedish tourist who is also staying at our hotel (Everyone’s favorite topic: the snowdon situation and obama) we met up with M. whom we last saw four years ago when he left our house in Des Moines after staying with us for several weeks. As handsome and sweet as ever, he is now a 23-year-old Gdansk dental student living with his girlfriend who he got attached to during his Iowa trip ( she also was a Polish exchange student). He showed us all around the Old Town and along the river and we stopped for a beer at his favorite local brewery, Browar Piwna. So nice to see him and to have him show us around his town!

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On the train from Berlin to Gdansk

Despite some lingering concern that flooding in Germany is still disrupting rail service, my train left Berlin’s impressive new train station (hauptbahnhof) right on time, in true German style. Now we are zipping across fields of corn, wheat and some other shimmering yellow crop, through forests of spindly fir trees, stopping at the occasional village with red tile roofs and, sometimes, wind turbines, between Berlin and Gdansk. God is there anything better than a train ride to a brand new place, listening to music on an iPod, feeling decades younger than You are. Probably but I do love the liberating feel of riding a train. Never feel that way on a plane or a bus. Sometimes I feel it in a car but I’ve still got to drive or sit in a confined space. I am in a six person compartment with a sliding door and three young women who seem a little less enthralled by the ride.

What I could use is one of those computerized maps on airplanes so I knew when we are in Poland. I wonder if there will be some telltale signs…beyond signs in Polish. Not sure I know the difference but the latest sign sure looked Polish and some of the young women in my car said we are indeed inPoland and have been for the past 30 minutes or so. Who knew?

My last day in Berlin was pretty laid back. I wandered around Charlottenburg, the gentile neighborhood near my hotel, past elegant buildings and attractive cafes. I browsed around KaDeWe, an opulent department store akin to Harrod’s, although the food halls didn’t have as enticing food. near my hotel in Wilmersdorf, I stumbled upon a quiet well tended residential street (Duisberger or Dusseldorfer Strasse) with a plaque at the corner explaining that this was where Charlottenburg’s Jews were relocated before their ultimate grim destination, the death camps. Took me aback. Reminded me of a conversation I overheard during my first day in Berlin. The dad kept pointing out to his two little kids this sight and that sight but his son kept asking “are there any concentration camps here?” Dad tried ignoring his question but finally said gently, “No, this is a city that is coming back and has all this cool stuff.”

Just arrived in Gdansk and some kind young people here for a big music festival helped me find my hotel, tucked in the old town, a house circa 1451. Two of our favorite bands are playing at the festival, turns out. The National and The Kings of Leon! Who knew? Below are some photos from the train journey!

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Berlin by bike…the way to go!

I wanted to be one of those cool Berliners (or tourists) breezing through the Brandenburg Gate on a bike and today I was. What a kick! For six euros (less than a 6.50 transit day pass) I rented a sturdy thick tire bike from a bike shop near my hotel and pretty much rode from 11 a.m, until 7 p.m. I rode all over the place, checking out new places on my list and revisiting others I had already seen. And I was impressed at how well laid out this city is for cyclists. There are bike lanes all over the place, some in the street, some in the sidewalk (it took me awhile to figure this out but I just followed other bikes along a narrow corridor in the sidewalk that apparently is for riders.) I had a vague sense of where I was going (mainly east and then south) and when I occasionally had no idea where I was, another helpful tourist information sign would appear (ex: Alexanderplatz 1.2 and an arrow pointing the direction).

The best part is that I could cover so much ground in a few hours, see so many things and get a feel for how different parts of the city connect with each other, something you don’t get when you are popping and out of the U bahn (underground subway). From my Wilmersdorf home base I rode east through the Tiergarten, sort of a Bavarian Black Forest version of NYC’s Central Park or even of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, with lush green lawns, lots of trees, dirt paths to ride, a lake or river in there somewhere, although I never found it. Next stop, Brandenburg Gate which was even more packed with tourists than yesterday, if that’s possibly. Along with the tourists were fashionistas attending Berlin Fashion Week nearby. (My new geriatric German sandals, bought today at an orthopedic shoe shop located, as fate would have it, around the corner from my hotel…would make the fashionistas shudder. See photo below, along with yet another photo of the view from the roof where I have been enjoying my late evening meal.)

Onto the Holocaust memorial and then Checkpoint Charlie where this time I found another “wall” documentation center of sorts, focused on “terror.” Next stop, a return to the other worldly Alexanderplatz and its Jetsonesque tv tower and famous lumpen world clock. This time I found Karl Marx Allee, famous for its drab communist era concrete high rises. Then I suddenly found myself in Kreuzberg, a bohemian bordering on seedy at times neighborhood with a big Turkish population. I ate donar kebab and drank chai at a well known Turkish restaurant, Hasir, and stopped for a Turkish pastry at the equally well known Turkish bakery Melek Pastanesi nearby. Then onto the East Side Gallery, another stretch of remaining wall that has dozens of bold murals by various artists on one side and more of berlin s remarkable graffiti on the other side. Both sides were well worth a look.

I returned to my neighborhood and had a soda at a little cafe where the owner asked where I was from. “You’ve probably never heard of it, Iowa,” I said, fully intending to give my standard explanation, I.e. near Chicago. But instead the guy responded with a knowing smile, “des Moines?” Turns out he had visited dsm several times, in his previous life in Computer software. So glad I decided to come to Berlin!

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Prenzlauer Berg… The soho/village of Berlin

So my ankles are aching and I have begun to bore a hole in my sandals which I fear may not make it to Poland. But Berlin is worth it. Today, on a perfect sunny day, I set out for Prenzlauer Berg, a trendy neighborhood with leafy pocket parks, pretty architecture, fun boutiques, and one enticing restaurant after another. Sort of reminded me of a mix of the east and west village of NYC. I hAve been using a somewhat outdated but still useful guidebook my London friends lent me, called 100percent Berlin, which has six walks. Beyond the fact that they are longer walks than my feet can handle, they steered me to some good spots, including Kulturbrauerei, a sprawling complex of art venues in an old brick brewery complex; the shops around Kollwitzplatz, And shops along Kastanienallee. Some boutiques didn’t take credit cards, which is a bummer. Alone took visa but not MasterCard; another took MasterCard, not American Express. I bought a few high design little paper journals, a retro Berlin tea towel, and two little cardboard VW buses that you assemble (the whole store was these ingenious cardboard things that you assemble, from boxes to waste baskets). (See http://www.werkhaus.de) The paper store was called Georg Buchner Buchladen.

I had the best chicken schawarma hummus I have ever had at Babel, a popular Lebanese place on Kastanienallee. Lots of people were eating at picnic tables there, which did turn out to be a good sign. Each slice of chicken had a crispy crust full of flavor but the meat was still moist. How can that happen? I also had a delicious chocolate bottomed macaroon at Lindner, one of the many pastry shops.

I went on to the Berlin Wall Documentation Center which gave me a far better understanding of the wall and what it did to Berliners than sites like Checkpoint Charlie. First of all, you get it visually because a section of the wall (or walls since there were actually two walls facing each other across a grassy no man’s land) remained. And stretched out across a long corridor of grass where remnants of some a building and church that were knocked down to build the wall. There were also displays with photos and recordings and old home movies showing how the wall tore families apart (one in particular showed a couple getting married on one side of the wall while the bride’s parents watched from a window on the other side). There were also photos and movies of people jumping out of windows in buildings lining the wall so they could get to the west…including a nine months pregnant woman. And then there were photos of people being evicted from these buildings and the building windows being bricked up to stop the jumpers.

From there I went to the grand Neue Synagogue which was built to resemble the Alhambra in Granada in the 1800s, but didn’t survive the war, nor did most of its community, of course. Some parts have been restored and there is an interesting exhibit about jewish life now and then, plus you can schlep to the dome for great city views. Definitely worth a visit.

On the way back to the s Bahn I picked up at excellent pork Vietnamese Bahn mi sandwich (hey, I am nothing if not a reform Jew, and an Iowa transplant, hence the love of pork) at Babane, a “banh mi deli” which I am eating at a table on the fifth floor roof top patio of my lovely hotel in Wilmersdorff. On the way back here I stopped to people watch for awhile at the Brandenburg gate, which is awash in tourist of all stripes. my favorite site was two veiled middle eastern women taking a photo, as requested, from a guy in a cowboy hat! I took the other scenic bus west, the 100, which did not disappoint.

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Mitte South, Potsdamer Platz, Alexanderplatz, gendarmenmarkt, artemisia

Greetings from Berlin where my biggest frustration has been trying to get Internet access on my iPad. I had the same issue in London at my friends house but finally got it. never had any issues in Peru, when I last used it in a foreign land. I did go to a computer store nearby and the guy pressed one button and charged me 15 euros. I thought he was joking. But no.

Anyway, I walked myself silly today and although I made several wrong turns, after awhile I started to understand the lay of the land, literally, and how the various u Bahn and S Bahn trains connect, plus the 100 and 200 Buses, which are cross town buses, doubledecker no less, that offer a great respite from walking long straight streets and some terrific scenery.

I am still trying to work out where “the wall” ran and what is east vs. West Berlin. But it was intriguing to see bits of the wall here and there – the bits by the now super modern Potsdam Platz appear to be covered not only with graffiti but wads of chewing gum. A lot of Berlin requires a better imagination than I have so you can see ugly wall where there are now huge modern buildings and Hitlers bunker where there is now what appears to be an apartment block. ( Right across the street from the other women only hotel I was thinking of staying at, Intermezzo.) while Berlin has its imposing older monuments, the Brandenburg Gate, the post WW2 communist architecture and the 21st century monuments, most notably the Holocaust memorial (which got me choked up as I found myself wandering deep inside the maze of bar slabs of grey stone, laid out in a dizzying number of fluctuating heights) are really the most captivating. Anywhere else, say Chicago and its Cabrini Green housing complex, these bleak concrete slab buildings might be knocked down. But here they are a source of fascination, maybe even pride, a historical record of the brutality of communism. This seemed particularly the case around Alexanderplatz, with its famous bizarre Jetsonesque tv tower and strange mosaics and painted murals on occasional communist era buildings. I also find myself looking at the graffiti differently, as another historic artifact. So that is interesting because architecture I would gave dismissed and graffiti I would have disdained at home, is here in Berlin a surprising source of fascination.

So far, I am enjoying staying at this women only hotel. As I type outside on the fifth floor rooftop overlooking the Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorff area, three women in their sixties, from Canada, Germany and Australia are talking about life, carrying for elderly parents, their adventures as retirees, where to eat dinner, which U and S bahn stations have the most stairs.

I did have my fix of grilled Bavarian coarse fried sausages, mashed potatoes and sweet cooked cabbage that I remember eating in Munich and even had a midday (Augustiner Hell) beer at Augustiner Gendarmenmarket, a lovely reconstructed square. When in Rome. But I cannot seem to bring myself to eat curry wurst…which looks even worse than I thought: sausages served with curry powder and then, even worse, ketchup. Ick.

Other interesting sights: a guy juggling while riding a unicycle in front of traffic stopped at a busy intersection (when the traffic started, he put out his collection hat and got out of the way);eight or so tourists riding some awkward contraption that they sat atop in a circle and peddled; tons of cyclists and tourists on bikes, which seems the best way to see everything. Hope to do that!!

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Richmond Park, Gatwick, Berlin

Lovely last day in London with my friends. We rode bikes along the Thames towpath, from Mortlake to Richmond Park, easy and scenic ride. Later road back through the park.

My friends dropped me off at Clapham Junction where I had an easy two stop train ride to Gatwick which was packed with people and a bit confusing to figure out the Easyjet procedure but my Berlin flight left on time, my carry on luggage did fit in the overhead, albeit awkwardly. It was much easier than I thought it would be to get to my hotel. As promised, the bus arrived right on time outside the airport and it took me to Rudow where I transferred to the U7 subway. It is a bit odd because you just walk into the subway, without passing through any ticket stalls. The ticket you buy at the airport for the bus can be used within three hours for the train and I guess vice versa.

I found my hotel artemisia quickly, an imposing white building on a quiet street and I pressed the code into a key box and sure enough the box spit out two keys i needed to get into the front door and into the hotel and my room on the fourth floor. It’s an odd arrangement with the hotel occupying the two top floors of a building i gather is otherwise residential. But it worked. The only thing I cannot get to work is my ipad internet access. Had problems with this in London too and not sure what the issue is but fortunately this computer is available via the hotel. One odd thing is the German keyboard is different so everytime I try to type a y it comes out as a Z. So I may have to go by Betsz here instead of Betsy…..

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Iowa girl done good in London! Pickle & Rye American sandwich shop

Met a talented young American couple at their cheerful sandwich shop in the London neighborhood of Mortlake yesterday. Val Miller grew up in Grinnell, Iowa, went to school at Central College in Pella, Iowa, fell in love with London during a semester abroad here (I did the same decades before.) While traveling around Europe, she met Alex Minor who grew up in Delaware, went to culinary school in San Francisco, worked in a restaurant in Italy. Three years ago, They opened their smart upscale shop called Pickle & Rye, serving large, well built, yummy sandwiches and are doing so well they are opening a second larger one nearby. The shop is decorated with U.S. tchotkes including mugs from Iowa and Des Moines on the tables. What a kick for Iowans in particular, and for my English friends who have visited us several times in Iowa. Did I mention the sandwiches are delicious? It is easy to see why they are doing well, given the quality of the food and their friendly Yank personalities. They are getting married soon in Grinnell and are determined to ride Ragbrai next summer, which I have been trying to convince my English friends to do for years. Word has it Richmond is home to the most Americans in London, but the customers I saw there were Brits.

On a crisp sunny day, we walked along narrow lanes lined with hearty flowers spilling over old brick walls to Barnes, which feels very much like a country village at times. we bought spelt flour, duck eggs, homemade hummus, crumpets and Florentines at the small outdoor Saturday market, then walked back up along the Thames to Mortlake Common where the local school was putting on a little fair. Then I feel asleep on a chair in my friends’ peaceful garden.

Later we went to an excellent Nepalese restaurant with an amusing name, The Greedy Buddha, in my old stomping ground of Fulham with my former neighbors from 34 years ago on Sullivan Road in Parsons Green, providing a little reminder of who I once was.

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national Portrait gallery, St. James Park, Chiswick gastro pub

Somehow this did not get posted from a few days ago so here it is a bit late…

My man in the Ukraine reports it has been about 100 degrees there. Here in London it has been in the 60s, which is just fine for me, if not my English friends who would like a proper summer. It rained a bit today but didn’t get in the way.

Met my friend M. At the National Gallery where we saw a small Vermeer show and had a delicious lunch (smoked trout and cottage cheese on a bagel grilled and flattened like a panini. it worked.)Next stop, the always interesting National Portrait Gallery which had its annual portrait contest, a room full of remarkable work by artists from around the country. Really fun. I took my kids to this about nine years ago and we all got a kick out of being able to vote on a winning portrait. This time we voted on a computer touch screen outside the exhibit space, which displayed miniatures of each portrait. Cool!

I walked to my favorite London park, St. James, where the gardens are glorious thanks in part to all the rain. Sat on a park bench watching the world go by. London is incredibly busy and Cosmopolitan these days, with people not only visiting but moving here from all over the world.
Met F. At her office behind Victoria Station (where there is tons of construction) and we met up with R. And two friends at a very good and bustling gastro pub in Chiswick, the Duke of Sussex. I had fish and chips, once more. Photos below of Shalstone road, mortlake where I am staying at my friend’s lovely home.

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Lewes, Brighton, Christ hospital school — road trip from London

So how did I find myself at a school concert last night at a posh boarding/day school outside London in Horsham? These are the kind of places (not all so posh but places offering a glimpse of everyday life) that I have ended up during my 34 year friendship with my London pal F. She goes, I tag along because she knows I am always game to see how people live in England…and beyond.

Our day began with a road trip south from London through Surrey past roadside stands selling strawberries and cherries to the lovely medieval town of Lewes, with ancient buildings made of shiny black chunks of Flint, lining hilly narrow lanes, surrounded by the rolling green hills of the Chalk Downs. Pretty place that I rode my bike around decades ago. We had a perfect ploughmans lunch at an old pub, The Pelham Arms, with a delicious slab of local Brighton blue cheese, and Stowford Press hard cider, window-shopped at a 15th century bookshop, visited the local castle ruins, brewery (Harvey’s) and the lovely gardens and craft shop at a stately house. The popular restaurant Bill ‘s was busy.

it was a short drive to Brighton, where the novel I have twice tried to write will be set in part, if it is ever written. The pier with its old fashioned arcade and Ferris wheel was as other-era as ever; the Brighton Pavillion, the folly of a bygone Royal, as exotic and odd as ever; the lanes with little shops posher than I remembered. Apparently Brighton is on an uptick, known to some as London by the Sea. We shared a cream tea at Darcy’s seafood, a quaint little place that was hard to find a second time (when I ran there to retrieve F’s bag, which she’d left behind). Some nice hipsters in a pub used their smartphones to locate the tearoom for me. (Help this poor woman out, one said. She’s got problems. She’s American and she lost her bag!)

We also shared some excellent fresh fish and chips (plaice and chips, technically) at a little takeaway place on a road that ends at the Brighton Beach Ferris Wheel, a strange sight.

The Big Band concert we went to turned out to be at the imposing Christ’s Hospital School, which has lots of stately red brick buildings laid out across wide open playing fields and A quad. Students wear rather severe looking black uniforms that look a little like cossacks tunics. the place reminded me a bit of the high school I went to in suburban Detroit, whose design was inspired by Cranbrook School in Kent, about 30 miles east of Lewes. The school has an unusually diverse student body because it works hard to admit kids who have had some hardships, and has a sliding scale fee structure based on ability top pay. (how refreshing.) The band included some talented teenagers playing trumpets, saxophones, trombones, (one the nephew of a friend of F’s which explains why we werer there). They played mostly jazzy arrangements of American classics from bygone eras, from Aretha’s “Respect” to Leonard Skynard’s Freebird to “Big Noise from Winnetka.” And to think I was near the real Winnetka (Illinois) about a week ago.

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