I live in a planned community with several neighborhoods within the one community and under one HOA. I hate the HOA but try to abide by most of the rules just because it’s easier than dealing with the asshats. When the rules are too much, well …

There is a community page on Facebook and I am part of that. It is helpful. There are lots of lost pet postings so if LC was still alive and got away from me now, I would have a place to see if someone had found her, unlike the screaming Stranger Danger incident of years past.

But these people are freaking nuts and paranoid and unsure of how to behave in the world.

Here is a posting from the page put up by Darlene. I’m very tempted to put in her whole name, as she publicized the license plate number which I have redacted. But I’m nicer than her so here is her post:

Orchards Subdivision-anyone recognize a late model bright red Ford Mustang convertible with a black top and SC Tag ******? Came home last night about 9:00 and found it in front of my house. Not a big issue but no other cars parked on the street and thinking of a situation where someone would park in front of the house. Police walked the neighborhood knocking on doors trying to find the driver with no success. After 45 minutes or so with the blue lights on no one showed. The car disappeared sometime during the night.

Really? “A situation” where the police went around, wasting their time for 45 minutes. How about this “situation” where Mustang Owner is a friend to one of Darlene’s neighbors. They were meeting at the friend’s house before going out and the friend was driving. So the Mustang Owner left his/her car on the street and the people went out and had a good time. Which is also why they didn’t answer the door to the police canvassing for legal activity.

We are not allowed, by HOA rules, to park on the streets overnight. There are no rules about just parking on the street, it is allowed, as long as the car is moved overnight. So at 9 PM, Mustang Owner was legally parked on a public street. And the car was gone by morning, surprise of all surprises.

Darlene was paranoid. Apparently the cops ran the plate but wouldn’t share the owner’s name with her, otherwise I’m sure that would have been put up there as well.

How parking one’s car legally on a public street is somehow now considered a nefarious act, is now a cause for public upset, now a reason to waste police man hours – how this happened is beyond me. Are we so suspicious? Are we so frightened by everything?

I didn’t comment on the Facebook page because I have trouble dealing with people in my area. We used to have a message board and I was sanctioned for suggesting that if they didn’t want trash left at the playground, they should provide a garbage can there. I also got into trouble for pointing out that golf carts aren’t allowed to be driven on the public roads by people without a valid driver’s license. We live on a corner at a stop sign and the ten year olds were driving out into oncoming traffic. As you can see, I’m a terrible nuisance and so have learned to let them be stupid without my input.

It is still amazing to me that anyone would call the police because a car was parked legally in front of their house. It is even more amazing to me that the police spent even one minute on this “situation”.

hqdefault

Advertisements

I’m a bit Irish. Not just on St. Patrick’s Day, but year round. I’m not even mostly Irish, but I identify myself as Irish because I seem to have an indomitable Irish streak in me. And I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone, so that’s there as well.

And because of this Irish stuff, I made a story – a funny story.

I was scared half to death about going to Switzerland early and being on our own in a place where we didn’t speak the language. But we were brave and we opted for the two extra days. We booked a hotel online, one that was recommended as a lovely central place to stay by the folks in Boston who we were dealing with for our whole vacation.

It was an expensive hotel costing more than we usually spend. Twice as much as we usually spend. Maybe even more. But part of that is simply the price differential between Switzerland and the US. So we paid the fee and booked the room.

It was the most horrible night in a hotel I have ever experienced. They had just reopened the day before after extensive renovations. The rooms were not properly vetted before booking and there were myriad issues, some minor and easily fixable if anyone had even bothered to check first.

We were given a corner room with floor to ceiling windows on two sides. It was a warm, sunny day and the air conditioning never did work well enough to cool the room. The blinds were either all open or all closed without any way to adjust for a view while blocking the piercing sunlight. This was annoying but not insurmountable.

But at 10 PM, the room went into night mode and the bed became a motion sensor nightmare. The entire perimeter of the king sized bed was lit up with bright blue/white LED lighting strips. You could read by the light they made. They could not be turned off and even the slightest movement brought them back on and then lying as still as possible for five minutes, they would turn off, only to be turned back on by on by the slightest shifting of hand or foot.

A fifteen minute adventure of trying to call the front desk for instructions on how to make the room dark ended in further angst. The phone didn’t work. As I said, the room was not vetted before it was rented out.

Eventually we found a way to get the room dark by stopping all power to the room’s “features” which included the non-functional air conditioning, so no real great loss there. The next day we were upgraded to a suite and given other concessions. The staff was as lovely as possible in this horrible situation. I have no idea who designed this hellish bed nor do I know who decided to buy the damn thing but I can only assume they didn’t try it out in a dark room after 10 PM. No one in their right mind would think it was a good idea.

Even as we were suffering through this nightmare, I mumbled how it would make a good story. And it did. We regaled our other travelers, once we were on the boat, with the  funny version of the story of The Bed. We became known as the Bed People or Bed Couple.

The story of the bed is now part of my lexicon. There are always difficulties and life is never perfect. Dealing with issues is a constant state of the human condition. Taking those difficulties and turning them into delightful stories makes them worth the effort. Without problems all we would have to talk about is each other and there is already too much gossip in the world.

So I will travel again. I hope I don’t find another bed like this one. But I’m sure there will be problems because there are always problems. It’s called life; just one damn thing after another. The real trick is turning the shit into gold. This is done by the way the story is told. Tell your stories for the laughs. Everyone already has enough tears of their own.

21014221_1557775300953911_8988151471597198370_o (1)

Grand Circle Cruise Line focuses on travel for older Americans. That’s me. However, there are many far older Americans as well. This is both a blessing and a curse.

I’m a CrossFitter and not a particularly good one when seen in my natural habitat at CrossFit Summerville. I’m their oldest person. I am usually working out with a bunch of 40 somethings – or younger. I am slow and weak in comparison. I’m also there, something no other old farts in this part of the world seems to have accomplished.

I’m used to being last. I’m used to being weaker and slower and simply not as much, whatever that might be. I’m the oldest person and it sorta sucks. However, I’m pretty damn awesome. I do things other people can’t, even people far younger than me because I go to the gym and I try. Or as Yoda might say, I do as there is no try.

On the cruise ship, I was one of the younger people and definitely one of the fittest. I was fast and strong and able to climb cobblestone roads and ascend mountains in a single bound or something. I was able to surpass the 80 somethings like they were standing still, rather like the 40 somethings do with me daily.

My years of CrossFit and my time with yoga have made me strong and flexible. I didn’t get tired or need to sit down every time we passed a bench or a possible place to sit. I was able to keep up with the many different terrains and the steep hills and the climbing and the walking and all the various physical tasks.

I’ve been home for two days now and I haven’t yet gotten back to the gym. My circadian rhythm is still over in a time zone six hours different from where my butt is sitting. Well, it might be part way back over the Atlantic by now, but I’ve been having a hard time with the time difference.

On Wednesday, I did not set my alarm since I really, really needed to sleep. I woke at 1 in the morning – the time my body had been waking up for two weeks or 7 AM in European time. It took me two hours to fall back to sleep and then I was too tired to move much during the rest of the day. I had laundry to do and grocery shopping to get done and things to do to get back into my normal life in South Carolina without room service or chefs or any of the pampering I had so enjoyed while away.

Today, I could have made an 8 AM class, but there isn’t one. I knew better than to try to get up at 5 AM for a 6 AM class. That was smart since I was up at 2.30 AM again still trying to reset that circadian rhythm thing.

It was also colder in Europe. For the last ten days, I had been wearing my coat and gloves and bundling up again the wind and very occasional rain. The sweltering ⁰F 85 here in South Carolina is killing me right now. The idea of working out at noon or one of the late afternoon classes is enough to make me weep. So I’ve not opted for that nonsense either.

Today, I had a massage scheduled. For the first time in five years, it could be a relaxing massage. There was a bit of tenseness from a 10 hour plane ride and dealing with the TSA, but nothing at all like what I usually am like after moving a bunch of iron. It was peaceful rather than painful.

Right now I’m still strong from all my time in the gym without any of the day to day pain associated with all the time in the gym. I still have the benefits without paying a current price. It is supremely tempting to stay home and not hurt anymore.

And then I remember all the people who were bent, twisted, crippled by years of sitting and doing nothing. I passed them by, safe in my CrossFit body. Strong and able and not nearly the mess these others were in. The price I have to pay to keep this, is to keep doing the stuff I’ve done.

It would be nice if there were some easier way. But the sad fact is sitting is killing us all. We weren’t built to sit all day. We were built to move. We were built to fight for our survival. We were built for action. And because of that, I have my alarm set and I will be at CrossFit tomorrow morning. I will have to scale it back a bit so I don’t hurt myself after all this time off. I will be the last to finish and have the lowest weights and generally suck. I will follow the WOD with some yin yoga. I will stretch and move. I will be back.

With all this work, I should be able to enjoy many more cruises, climbing cobblestone roads to magnificent castles, twisting and turning through the narrow passageways, enjoying the experience of seeing the new and different.

IMG_2257

Zooming my way across Europe.

IMG_2619

Me and the grape vines

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

IMG_2619

It was time to go and like Marvin K. Mooney, we went. The scheduling of the flights was taken care of by the travel agent in Boston who set up our whole trip for us. We did not really have complete control over this, but were given right of refusal.

The flights looked pretty good and we accepted them as presented. Our flight out of Brussels was to take off at 10.35 which seemed like a great time. Logistically … well. MS River Rhapsody was docked in Antwerp which is about 45 minutes to an hour away from Brussels. Then, it was suggested that we arrive three hours early for intercontinental flights. So that meant we had to leave the boat at 6.30.

We surely didn’t want to miss a meal, so we were up before the crack of dawn. We obsessively checked to make sure we had all our electronics (2 phones, 2 tablets, 1 camera with battery charger, 1 bluetooth keyboard, 1 fit bit, 3 European plug adaptors, all associated wires) as well as wallets and passports.

We had to fill in papers and hand in keys and be ready to go out into the night in order to get to the airport and get home.

We were supposed to have a bus, but there was some mass transit strike going on at least throughout Belgium and perhaps throughout the EU. I really didn’t care about anywhere else, so I’m not quite positive about the scope of the strike. What I am sure of is that traffic was a bitch. Instead of good European sense where most people take public transit options to get to work, every jackass in Europe was on the road trying to get to work while we were trying to get to the airport.

Instead of the bus, we had three larger vans to take the 19 of us travelers and our luggage, along with one program director to help with sending us off at the airport. Somehow, our driver thought he was the reincarnated Dale Earnhardt or perhaps Mario Andretti. He was under the illusion he was driving either a NASCAR or Formula 1 van and he was determined to get us to the airport via the most twisting and convoluted manner possible while “eluding” all the traffic. Thus we went on several non-major routes aka back streets.

He tailgated. He lane changed (without being able to see out the back window because all the luggage was stacked back there). He drove erratically and scared the living crap out of the seven of us passengers. We got to the airport. Last. We were the first van to pull out. There’s a message in there.

But we did arrive safely even if we were slightly ruffled. We got into appropriate lines and showed the appropriate papers and got the appropriate tickets and managed to find the appropriate gate all in good time. We were frisked and x-rayed and deemed fit to travel with all our luggage and belongings.

The flight was to take 9 hours and 44 minutes. Although we were scheduled with Air France, there were also people scheduled with KLM and Delta. They are all partners and this was actually a Delta flight.

They fed us continually. Our flight over was via KLM and they fed us frequently and with better food. But we were snacked and watered and fed and watered and snacked and watered and fed and watered and then watered again for good measure. Each time they tried to water me, I had coffee.

On one of the rounds, the attendant popped a Coke for a passenger across the aisle and the Coke must have been shaken or under pressure or something and I ended up a bit wet. Luckily, I had my tablet cover closed or it could have been more of an issue. She dried me off and then asked, “Would you like a drink – in a cup?”

We arrived in Atlanta a bit early. We had to wait at baggage claim and get our checked luggage and carry it over to a different conveyor belt so that it could travel around the airport independent of us. But for some reason, it needed our attention to get from one conveyor belt to the next.

We had to show our passport and our luggage claim tickets to a very congenial man who was speaking in English without an accent. It was lovely.

We had to use a kiosk system for customs which was a new thing since my last international trip. The pictures taken at the kiosk looked rather bedraggled. I looked almost as bad as my passport picture. We then stood in another line and spoke with a woman who asked us all the questions we had answered at the kiosk and then she ushered us through.

And then … it was a sad time. Atlanta is THE busiest airport in the world. It is busier than Beijing. It is busier than anyone. And many of their flights are international. And even though we went through a check to get here and even though we demonstrated by arriving safely that we had not blown up any aircraft on the way, we had to go through TSA again. TSA is staffed by underpaid idiots.

There were two different sides to go through and we were split evenly between them. Side A had 6 or 7 check points (all seemed to be in working order). Side B had 2. We were shunted to side B. And it was taking forever. This was because in our absence, things got even dumber than they have been. Apparently, now food can be a bomb. Since many people travel with food, each of them had to be specially screened.

This was a problem on both sides, but on side B, their equipment was malfunctioning. So it was taking forever. There is little I can say here to express my displeasure, but like the rest of the trip while rating things, I would have to say my displeasure with this idiocy was excellent, right at the top.

I had traveled through Europe buying different candies and cookies and treats. I had brought my own flavored coffees and teas. I had two bins full of food items.

After unpacking my entire carryon luggage into the bins, we waited and waited and waited for some guy to slap dash a gunpowder detector strip over only SOME of the things (but it didn’t matter if it had been opened or not) and then wander over to a machine that would calibrate (unlike the other two right there which were broken) and come back to report that I was safe – except he had to do this twice for me because I had so much food.

We got to the gate in time which didn’t happen for everyone waiting in the long, slow line. So at least there was that.

We were seated toward the back of the plane. The gate personnel kept mentioning how much crap you were permitted to take into the plane itself and it seemed too many people had too much crap. I did not pack any of my chocolate in my regular suitcase because cargo bays are not climate controlled and I didn’t want my chocolates to be ruined. I was forced to gate check my carryon.

We got home safely (thanks, Ray the best Uber driver ever and a pretty good CrossFitter, too). My candy arrived safely as did all of our luggage. So that was wonderful.

I managed to stay awake until 9 PM through sheer willpower. But I woke up at 1 AM and realized eventually, this was the time I had been waking up for the last two weeks. As I was finally drifting off to sleep, I knew that on the other side of the world Serge was taking a new group of travelers through his home town. I didn’t really want to share him, but they sure do have a treat in store for them.

IMAG1858

The clouds look so substantial and yet … It looks like the top of a glacier but they come in layers. I loved watching the clouds the whole way between Atlanta and home (as I fretted about my chocolates).

IMAG1859

But they arrived home. There really are four different types of booze filled chocolates here (two boxes of my favorites) which seems extreme for someone who doesn’t drink. 

IMAG1860

Back home. There were no rivers or mountains outside my window today. But the shower was larger and the house never bumped into the side of a lock all night long.

Monday, October 9 is our last full day in Europe – this time. We spent the day in Antwerp, Belgium which just happened to be the hometown of our Program Director, Serge. 

We began the morning with a walking tour of the old part of the city on the Right Bank of the river. I have no idea what river we are on any more. Once we veered off the Rhine to get to our ports of call in the Netherlands, we hit this river and that river and another and I’m so glad I’m not driving the boat. I’m totally clueless as to the river system here. Wherever it is, it has an 18 foot difference between high and low tide, which is quite astounding. 

We first walked past the old port of call, a place where Serge’s uncle used to work. It was a busy port and was a place where many refuges fled the Nazis in order to make a better life in the US. The most famous of these refuges was Albert Einstein. 

They are dismantling it now and going to build a park in the area. The main Antwerp port is now over there and ocean going vessels are not even allowed this far upriver. 

We next rode an old wooden sided escalator into the tunnel connecting the two sides of the river. It was all dug by hand in the early 1900s. It was used as a safe haven during bombing raids during WWII. This side of the river remains undamaged but the other side of the river got hit and then entrance was damaged. We were about 100 feet down when in the tunnel itself. 

We wended our way through the cobbled streets and found some beautiful old sections of town. Today, it is quaint and lovely. In the Middle Ages it was crowded and stinky and not nearly as nice as we imagine. 

Serge bought us some authentic Belgian cookies, one kind was almond and the other was ginger flavored. He then got us some Belgian chocolates. I immediately snuck into the store and bought myself a box of the same things. 

Unfortunately, Serge did not buy us each a sample diamond. Even though Belgium is famous for them. Le Sigh. 

We entered the Market Square where the old City Hall built in 1565 stands. It was covered in the flags of Ambassador Nations whose ambassadors work there today. At immediate right angle to the City Hall was a line of other official buildings. They, too, were gorgeous and covered in gilt and statues. They were also all destroyed by bombing during WWII and were rebuilt in the old style. They were gorgeous anyway. 

Also missed in the bombings was the Antwerp Cathedral. There was lots and lots of construction around the Cathedral and there were Portuguese workers there laying the new cobblestones. Each had to be placed and tapped into the underlying dirt by hand. A time honored and time consuming task. 

The cathedral was housing an art exhibit which included paintings by Pieter Paul Rubens, a native son. We did not go in and see either the art show or the exhibit. We are cathedraled out. Our tour ended and we made our way back to the ship. 

After lunch we packed our bags, getting ready for departure. The earliest flights have to leave at 3 AM but we get a leisurely send off at 6.30 AM tomorrow morning. The Brussels airport is about an hour from the ship and we will be ferried there and then wing our way home. 

This has been an entirely magnificent trip. I’ve seen so many wonderful and beautiful things. I was so frightened of being in Basil without a guide and yet we lived and enjoyed our time there. Everything aboard the ship has been wonderful. They have made some upgrades in the intervening years since our last cruise and they have been for the better. I’m going to hate to leave all the pampering but I’m looking forward to being home again. It’s been heavenly. 

Old wooden escalators

Old Antwerp

City Hall

Rebuilt after WWII

Cathedral of Our Lady

Serge

Sunday, October 8 was spent in the Netherlands. The morning was spent in Kinderdijk which is home to a UNESCO site of 19 functional windmills. These were part of the defense of the land against the sea. The Netherlands are below sea level in much of the border regions. And the dikes were part system protecting the land from the ever encroaching salt waters of the North Sea. They were joined by sluices and levees.

These windmills were used solely for the purpose of placing the water from lower canal into the major but higher canal just behind them. They were line of sight with the first of the series able to communicate by signals (either with lanterns at night or the set of the sails during the day) and then that windmill would relay the message to the next in line.

Each windmill could pump thousands of gallons of water per minute so they were able to keep up with most of the local flooding.

The name of the region is based on a story of a small baby in a basket (like Moses) who was washed into the canals during a flood but was saved when the family cat jumped in the basket and kept it stabilized in the water until they could be rescued.

It is such a nice story that other regions of the Netherlands also claim it as their own. But this area is actually named for the story.

The oldest of the dikes, predating the others by over a century, was built in a different fashion. The sails were set into a mechanism in the top half of the windmill which made it possible to move them only while moving the entire half of the mill. The other remaining windmills were built in a newer fashion with only the very top portion of the windmill having to turn to have the sails set at the proper relation to the wind.

Some nutjob decided to set fire to the oldest mill a few years ago. With the help of the Grand Circle Foundation, the lower portion of the windmill has been rebuilt. The Foundation takes a bit of money they make from our fees to travel and finds something along each of the cruises to help fund. These projects can be reclamation of neglected old buildings or can be used for maintenance of these heritage sites.

Steve was unable to keep all the rain away and it would rain and then stop and then rain and then stop again. That meant that we got wet, but we also got a rainbow as we started the day.

Today’s modern water removal system is powered by electricity generated from a totally different type of windmill. It is an Archimedes screw type thing and moves more than ten times as much water per minute. However, the old windmills work even when there is a power outage.

After lunch we boarded buses for what used to be an optional tour costing $65 each. It is now included for everyone in the package. We sailed to Willemstad a short distance away and then disembarked to buses. After an hour bus ride, we were at the Delta Works project for this part of the Netherlands.

On the night of February 1, 1953 a giant storm broke thru the dikes and levees existing around the perimeter of the country. The coast regions were flooded immediately as was a great amount of agricultural land.

The storm pushed the North Sea into Holland, inundating the coasts all up and down the country and into the neighboring countries as well. The winds were so strong that even at low tide, the waters did not recede. And then the next high tide arrived and caused even more damage. Each and every shifting of the tides further damaged the already breached levees and dikes. About 40% of the country was under at least some water.

The disaster changed everything and it took ten month to repair the dikes and levees, often using left over WWII equipment. The caissons from the Normandy invasion were especially useful. But it was not enough. The Dutch went into action and at great cost and using the most innovative technology of the time, the fortified themselves from the sea.

At first, they built dams in order to protect the humans on land. But environmentalists noted the damage this was doing to coastal ecologies as well as coastal industries dependent on the tides. They came up with the Delta Works.

They first had to dredge the seafloor and then stabilize that with a specially produced mattress they built which was then held in place with rocks. Next they put up cement works which would hold the plates which usually stand above high tide level but which can be lowered during times of exceptionally high waters. After they had the land protected from the sea, while at the same time allowing for tidal economies, they built a road across the upper deck.

It took over a decade of planning and more than a decade of building. They had to design and build the ships that could move the pieces and parts into position to build the thing. There are several of these Delta Works systems over the three major rivers and their tributaries. It cost about 9 billion in what is today euros, but in 1980s rates.

The technology is outdated today but the system still works. In fact, it has been used almost once every year since it was completed and saved the interior of the country from any more devastating flooding. While there are newer materials and much newer systems for massive construction projects, the knowledge they gained in building this has been shared with other peoples threatened by flooding around the world, including both New Orleans and Venice, Italy.

After dinner the crew entertained us with a special variety show and it was very entertaining, indeed.

Windmills as seen from the ship with the “normal” configuration

The windmill we supported

Looking over a small section of the Delta Works

Close up of the metal wall which is dropped into place (and it is too massive to get in one picture). There are 63 of them at this part of the project.

Saturday, October 7 was spent in Nijmegen, Netherlands. One of the interesting things I learned was exactly how long the charge on my bluetooth keyboard lasted. It lasted about ¾ of the way through the blog post I was writing and then … nothing at all. Since patience is one of my strong points, I took this in stride and simply recharged the device and was able to finish writing eventually.

We had sailed all night and reached the Netherlands around 8 in the morning. Right after breakfast, we had a local come aboard ship and explain his life and times as a survivor of this war zone. Nijmegen (pronounced NIGH-megan) was liberated soon after the D-Day landings in September 1944. He was a small boy of 8 at the time. The first word of English he learned was “chewing gum” when a kind American soldier gave him some.

The Allies were able to retain control of this region – the northernmost line of the old Roman Empire – but they were unable to take and retain other bridges in to the north. The lines were stretched too far and the British general didn’t want to sent his troops up to help fast enough. And so the bridge became known as The Bridge Too Far of movie fame.

The parachute airborne portion of the operation was Market (where they intended to land) and the land portion was Garden for obvious reasons. The whole thing was Operation Market Garden.

After taking the city, they had to cross the Waal River to continue. They crossed in boats with Germans shooting as them as they tried to get across a fairly wide river. Some went over the railroad bridge and 48 Americans died on the bridge itself. Each night when the street lights come on, they light one by one until 48 lights are lit, honoring the Americans who saved the city after years of Nazi Occupation. They also have a yearly celebration in September commemorating the event.

We took a walking tour of the city which was also in party mode for some other reason. It was a yearly event, rather like a county or state fair with rides set up in various parts of the city. It was also market day and there were vendor carts throughout the market. It was also raining on and off again.

Serge bought herring (raw) and some other fish breaded and fried. We were right there in the central part of the shopping district and since Dick doesn’t really like fish and I’ve eaten way too much already, we went shopping instead of eating fish.

We all met together again and went to the local no longer a cathedral church. It was originally the church of St. Stephen. Today, it is Protestant and they don’t like naming their churches after saints. So it is today called the Big Church by the locals, but for us American tourists, it can still be called St. Stephen’s.

The Program Directors called the church people, who use the church for non-church things all the time, to ask if we could have a small organ concert there. We were given permission. Two of the people from the ship played the organ and wanted to do so for us.

The organ was built in 1776. At first, they had some schmuck trying to build an organ, but he simply wasn’t up to the task. As recourse, they invited the most famous organ maker of the time to come from Cologne and build their organ. He did.

During WWII, the church was slightly damaged and luckily the stone work from the destroyed tower fell that way. If it had fallen this way, it would have destroyed the organ. Instead, only a few of the pipes were damaged. They were rebuilt along with the tower itself.

The newer built pipes were not made of the same metallic mixture of lead and whatever word the guide couldn’t translate, but maybe tin. The newer pipes are already rusting. The sound of the organ was still incredible. The acoustics in the high arched church added to the mellow tones issuing forth. The music was heavenly, as it was meant to be.

Both of our people each played a song and did remarkable well. And then the church organist played a majestic piece that brought goosebumps to the skin. It was thrilling and as the last notes faded away, it as really exactly like you could imagine them drifting off into awed silence.

We played Eucher with Austin and Shirley again and this time the girls only won two out of the three games. Even with some rain now and again, it was a lovely day. It mostly poured after dinner and we could see the light of the Ferris wheel off in the misty distance.

Our morning talk

The town had been a Jewish refuge and then the Jews were cruelly betrayed by a local citizen sympathizer of the Nazis.

The 1776 organ from St. Stephen’s Church

Simply beautiful