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Day 7 – The Sounds of Salzburg

I was barely in the van before she asked the first question…

“What is that?”
“It’s a cement mixer” the guide answered.
“Why is it in the street?”
“Because they are doing construction.”
“Is it permanent?”

Oh boy. I thought. It was going to be a very, very long ride to Salzburg.

The lady who loved to ask questions, though Indian, told me she lived in Hong Kong. Wherever she was from, clearly, she was familiar with The Sound of Music. Except for the first one, every question she asked pertained to the movie…is that the lake from The Sound of Music? Is that the church from The Sound of Music? Are we going to see all the sights from the Sound of Music?

I began to wonder if the driver was going to take us to Budapest and jump off the chain bridge.

But he seemed unphased (probably having heard that question a million times before), and he patiently explained, that no, we were a long way from Salzburg. And no, we would not see ALL the sites from the Sound of Music because when they made the movie, they actually spliced footage from all over; not just Salzburg or any one place.

We promptly stopped at a roadside restaurant and shop where the driver must be getting some kind of kick back…none of us felt much like eating given that we had just had a hotel breakfast and the items in the shop were beautiful but expensive.  We were anxious to see the hills that were alive with the sound of music.

After days of looking forward this this trip, I was beginning to wish I had just taken the train to Salzburg by myself (although the driver assured us that this would not have included the lake district…which has scenery from the Sound of Music). The lake (Modsee) was beautiful although incredibly busy on a Sunday with folks riding bikes, swimming, or sunbathing. There was really no time to do anything but take a few pictures, but I guess now I can say I’ve seen the lake from the Sound of Music. If anyone cares.

The lakeside castle where some of the scenes were shot was never actually a home of the VonTrapps (their real home was confiscated by the Nazis during WWII but has recently had been turned into a hotel).

When we pulled into Saltzburg, I felt a bit more disappointed. It was just a city.

saltzburg 29

Josef, our driver pulled into a parking lot beside an ornate church (and confirmed that, no, it was not the church in the Sound of Music).

He explained that we were in the new city and after showing us a few sites from the Sound of Music, he would take us into the old city.

My new Sound of Music loving friend (“SOM”) was not in good shape, so walking was slow. We did eventually reach the Mirabelle Garden and the place where a few shots were taken as Maria and the kids are singing. I am going to have to go back and watch the movie…I really don’t remember unicorns.

There was a lovely park there and a band was playing (no, nothing from SOM). But the park runs along the river and we stopped a few times as the guide pointed out significant places. It turns out, long before Rodgers and Hammerstein, a young man named Wolfgang Mozart had left his mark in Saltzburg. The city is very proud of this heritage as well they should be. There is at least one other well known figure from Saltzburg, the scientist Christian Doppler. Maybe someone would care if the hills had not come alive with the Sound of Music.

Josef showed us where famous local chocolate was made and other important things like good places to buy ice cream.

He showed us another fountain featured in the Do-Re-Mi scene of SOM. I cringed waiting for SOM herself to say, “that’s not what it looked like in the Sound of Music,”
But instead, she simply said, “where can we buy souvenirs?”

I guess there is nothing more inspiring than shipping containers and construction debris.

“It’s almost free time and you can all go do what you want.” The guide told her, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

But first, he took us to the graveyard by the Abbey where the VonTrapps hide from the Germans in the movie. It is a lovely little graveyard. In reality, the VonTrapps did not hide in a graveyard, they left the country on a train before the war started.

Saltzburg 15

And truthfully, I’m not sure what was actually filmed because even though there are many caged areas such as are depicted in the movie, I didn’t see any tomb stones that aren’t flush against the wall.

But maybe the fictional heros in that Abbey have done more than make for an exciting story because the abbey is still functioning to this day.

After the graveyard, I went back a few centuries and hiked the hill to the castle. I will say this, if I worked there, I would not need a gym membership. That was no joke.

Saltzburg 12

But it was worth the hike. The Castle was originally built somewhere in the 1400s and occupied by the Archbishops of Hamburg. The site of city was originally chose because of its defensive position on the Danube and near the mountains, but salt mines were discovered which made for the city’s main industry. (And consequently, the name, Saltzburg).

The Archbishops were the spiritual and civil rulers and apparently, had frequent need to exercise disciple to maintain their control. The tour including the torture chambers and a rather terrifying hole that led to the dungeon.

There is also a significant WWI and WWII history involving the Castle and grounds although I didn’t absorb it all.

Overall, it was a pretty cool castle and afforded beautiful views of the city below.

On the way out, I learned that one of the elements in the SOM was not fiction, and that is that puppetry was a huge part of the culture in Saltzburg. Part of the museum captured this and it was fun to see.

Saltzburg 2Saltzburg 3

Even though I took a train down the mountain, I definitely felt the walk/hike that morning had earned me an ice cream lunch. I tried some new flavors including black current and elderflower. Let’s just say, it’s a good thing I also got an old faithful, chocolate.

I took a quick photo in the gorgeous church where the Captain and Maria got married. There was a couple doing the tango on the steps. I don’t know why. They didn’t tango in the Sound of Music.

SAltzburg 1

Having covered medieval history, WWI, the SOM, and the tango, I felt like it was time to visit one of Mozart’s houses. Our guide had told us which one had the best museum, the one where he was born and lived as a child.

The house and museum were pretty well done and told the story of this child prodigy who left a quite significant mark on the music world considering he only lived to be 35.

They had a lot of replicas and even some original artifacts (along with a lock of hair that might or might not be his).

Mozart was reasonably successful during his life, but he lived an popular tour life and his death left his young wife and kids with quite a bit of debt. Constanze proved to be a prudent business woman and managed to turn things around and preserve his legacy remarkably well including publishing his first biography. After about 10 years, she did remarry and eventually returned to Salzburg which she and Wolfgang had left a few years after their marriage.

When we met back at the van at the end of the day, I chatted with SOM and learned that she hadn’t done much of anything because it was too hot. When she kept complaining, I thought about asking her if she wanted to sign “My Favorite Things” but I decided against it.

We waited at the van for the last of the group to show up and we could hear music playing from the full choir and orchestra inside. It wasn’t Mozart or Rogers and Hammerstein, but maybe it’s appropriate that our final moments in the city were filled with the beautiful sound of music.

salzburg 36 (2)

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Day 6 – Budapest by Bus

The driver was at my hotel promptly at 6:45 am. The free hotel breakfast opened at 6:30 am, so I had made good use of that extremely valuable 15 minutes. Breakfast that morning had been a beautiful sight.

There were nine of us headed to Budapest, which is about a 2.5 hour drive East. I really don’t know that much about Budapest since it isn’t mentioned in the Sound of Music (or any other books or movies I could recall). Thankfully, the driver/guide filled us in with the history of Hungary during the drive and I stayed awake for a pretty large percentage of it.

Budapest 3

Budapest is a town on the Danube River (which is not a beautiful blue…just sayin’). It was originally settled during the Roman Empire, but was then conquered by the Magdars and a bunch of other people.

It turns out, Budapest is a very beautiful city. The driver was trying to cover as much of it as possible so we only had a few minutes at each place, but it was obvious that a lot of resources had been invested into the architecture of the lovely town—some dating as far back as 86 AD (There are actually a ton of different architectural styles and it’s almost impossible to tell which ones are ancient and what is recent, but they’re all ornate).

Hungary suffered under communism from the end of WWII until 1989. Apparently, after the iron curtain fell, everyone went out and bought cars whether they needed them or not (which you really don’t…unless you want to get out of town…something those folks had probably never been able to do until then).

Hungary became part of the EU in 2004 (although it’s still not been able to reach the financial standards necessary to officially adopt the Euro).

budapest-8.jpg

I wasn’t expecting much of Hungarian food since it hasn’t really made a presence around the world, but I have to say, the lunch I ate was one of the best meals I’ve had on this trip.  Or maybe it just seemed that way because I’m still catching up on calories from those 25,000 steps yesterday.

I met several nice folks on the tour and walked the chain bridge afterward with a lady from Australia. She and her husband have 4,000 sheep (plus dogs, kangaroos, etc) on over 3,000 acres somewhere in the middle of the country. She was only too happy to walk with me. I guess living that remotely, she and her husband see a great deal of each other and not a whole lot of other people.

The guide had told us an interesting story about the chain bridge that connects “Buda” and “Pest” and the pompous architect, Adam Clark who had designed and built it.  He said he jumped off to his death in the Danube after some students criticized the lions at the entrances because they didn’t have tongues.

We thought it was an interesting story, but on a whim I googled it, and Siri says Adam Clark died of lung disease when he was 54 and brought up a photo of his grave stone.  But then, I have learned that Siri is not exactly a reliable source of information.  Who knows, maybe a famous architect did jump off his bridge into the Danube because someone said his lions didn’t have a tongue.  Sounds legit to me.

At any rate, it’s a beautiful bridge. And really, a surprisingly beautiful city.  I don’t know about all the history I learned today but maybe I’ll be a little more motivated to study up on the history myself.  Someday, I’d love to go back with a little more time and get lost in the Labyrinth under the city.  With Siri.

Budapest

Step count: 17,000
Cumulative Step Count: 114,000 (~57 miles)

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Day 5 – Keeping it Real in Vienna

vienna 11

It’s not Vienna’s fault, really. It’s just not fair to ask a city to be the next stop after a trip to the Dolomites. There was probably nothing Vienna could have done that wouldn’t seem like a little bit of a let down after breathing that mountain air.

Toni's contribution to Vienna Architechture
Toni’s contribution to Vienna architecture

Not that it was all bad. A little graffiti just sort of keeps it real.  Actually, there is a lot of graffiti.

Grafitti aside, Vienna has a much different feel from Venice. Venice, at this point, is a tourist hub where people get around by boat and walking. Vienna is a modern, working city where folks get around by car, bus, train, bike, motorcycle, scooter, e-scooter, horse drawn carriage, baby carriage, Segway, Big Bus, running, or, in my case, walking.

Vienna has a different smell than Venice too.  That’s a good thing.

When I arrived, I realized that pretty much everything I know about Austria I learned from 1. The Sound of Music; 2. Miracle of the White Stallions; or 3. Old cassette tape on one of the composers…I.e. the Life of Mozart. (I guess you could also throw in on a much lesser scale, 4. Woman in Gold.)

At any rate, as I started passing one ornate building and one impressive statue after another after another, I realized I didn’t know what or who any of them were and consequently, all I could think about was how heavy my back pack was and how much I regret my codependency on unreliable Siri.

If you haven’t seen Miracle of the White Stallions or heard of the Spanish Riding School or the famous Lipizzaner horses, I’m not really surprised. But apparently, some people have because I figured the riding hall had about 500 seats. Tickets weren’t cheap. And at 11:00 am, every seat was filled and folks were standing along the walls.

The empty riding hall...because I don't want to be the one to "irritate the horses"

It’s hard to describe the performance and they would not let us take pictures because it “irritates the horses” so I can only recommend you look them up or view the recent Netflix special on these beautiful Stallions. They have a way of almost dancing and a long tradition of performing that has not changed in forever.

I did notice, however, that neither the show nor the Netflix special in any way references the story told in “Miracle if the White Stallions” in which the US army saved the breed toward the end of WWII. I think we deserve a little credit in the form of discounted tickets or something. Just sayin’.

After the show, I decided to try to go to the hotel to try to drop off my backpack which, after carrying it around since 4:00 am, seemed to weigh far more than 1,000 lbs. I had intentionally booked a hotel near a train station (although a bit out of town for cost reasons), but I had never found out what train station. So it made for a very, very long walk. I felt like Christian in Pilgrims Progress carrying a heavy burden. It didn’t help that I had made a poor choice of shoes that day.

I neglected to mention that while I was looking for the Spanish Riding School that morning, I had been talked into buying a concert ticket for later that evening by a street salesman who gave me a special discount. 😉

By the time I made it to the hotel and shed my burden, I had learned that the hotel was right next to a palace (Schönbrunn Castle) which also was hosting a concert that night that sounded very similar. Schönbrunn was cool, quiet, inviting, and it was RIGHT THERE. But no, I had paid 30 Euros for a ticket to a concert all the way back in the heart of Vienna. That meant I was in for more trains and a lot more walking to end a day that had started at 3:00 am. Ugh.

So after a few hours of catching up on emails and work and fighting to charge my phone and computer with a temperamental outlet in my room, I headed back to the train station…thankfully, now I knew the closest one to the hotel (not the one I came on) and the closest one to the concert hall, so I figured all would go smoothly, but I left two hours early just in case.

What I didn’t know then was that the clever salesman had been peddling tickets that looked *almost* exactly like the concert going on at the Opera House that night.

I tried going to the address on the ticket, but Siri pulled one of her “you have arrived” stunts when clearly, I had not arrived.

Then I started asking locals who all directed me to the Opera House but after arriving there, I realized that although the ticket looked like the same concert going on at the Opera House, it was not.

After nearly two hours of walking, I was extremely close to giving up when I happened to light on another salesman on the street selling tickets for the same concert I’d been duped into. “It’s just beyond the Opera House” he told me, generally pointing. Then he gave me a map. Which was also no help.

But I found it. Somehow. And my some miracle, I was even on time.

And although I was in the cheap seats and couldn’t see much of anything, the musicians were good and the music was beautiful—Mozart, Grieg, Vivaldi, etc.

vienna 6

So there you have it…a nod to Miracle if the White Stallions and the Life of Mozart. Sunday, I plan to go to Salzburg and find out if the hills are still alive with the Sound of Music. Hopefully, my feet will have recovered by then. In honor of the Woman in Gold, I will not go to any Museums.

Not at all a bad way to spend the day after the Dolomites.

In fact, I’m hesitant to admit it…but even though I’d pick a day at the Dolomites over a day in the city every time (and I’m generally not one for concerts that begin at 8:30 pm), I do love the European way of walking every where.  I love to see couples dressed up and catching trains for an evening out.  I love the rows of little, privately owned shops and the simplicity of only buying what you can carry home.

Total steps today: 25,000 Cumulative steps: 97,000 (~39 miles)

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Day 4 – The Dolomites

 

I was not a happy traveler when the alarm went off. 6:30 am was really 12:30 am EST and it felt very much like getting up in the middle of the night.

But I was very much looking forward to the group tour to the Dolomites and the directions on how to get to the tour pick place were a little sketchy, so after last nights’ experience, I wasn’t going to take any chances.

Thankfully, I had significantly lightened the load in my backpack and I at least had the benefit of the lessons learned the previous evening for navigation, but I still made the mistake of thinking I would save 15 Euro and walk to the pick up point 34 minutes away. I will skip the details and tell you that an hour and 30 minutes later, I arrived by water taxi having spent 20 Euros. But the important thing was, I arrived.

We were in a smaller van and it didn’t take long to see why. Winding up the narrow roads of the Dolomites was exciting enough without extra axles.

We drove through the ugly town where the people who work in Venice live, through the grape vineyards, and then began winding our way into the mountains.

It’s hard to describe the rest of the day with words. I can’t even do it justice with pictures. The Dolomites are truly beautiful and rival anything I’ve ever seen and maybe more.

Our Italian guide, Francesco, was friendly and didn’t seem to miss a photo op along the way. Even so, I was jealous of the numerous motorcycles, hikers, bikers, and other outdoor enthusiasts. They definitely had the right idea.

We briefly stopped in Cortina. This small mountain town of 6,000 was just awarded the hosting of the 2026 Olympic Winter Games. It looks like it’s used to handling tourists, but I am curious how they plan to get a million people up that winding mountain rode. I suspect it will be forever changed.

Perhaps they plan to expand, but they’ll never make it by 2026 if it’s up to these guys we observed.  We had a good laugh watching this guy roll rocks down the hill with a rake one at a time while the guy below barked orders on what to roll next.

Road work

For lunch, we stopped at the beautiful lake town of Misorina. It was truly breathtaking. We all enjoyed our lunch made from locally grown/handmade pizzas, pastas, and more.

The weather was perfect. After lunch, I took the walking path around the lake and ended the stop with chocolate gelato. I definitely found my happy place.

When we got back in the car, the emails and texts started hitting my phone. My people were up. Back to reality. But it was a super fun day.

I must be getting the hang of navigating Venice. When the driver dropped us off at Piazza Romale, Siri said 17 minutes back to the hotel and it only took me an hour. Including the water taxi. Of course, it is a little more complicated to navigate with Siri in one hand and a cup of rapidly melting gelato in the other. So there’s that.

But the good part was that I was the Rialto Bridge, San Marco square, and 1,000 little shops that make Venice the beautiful city that it is. I could see why someone who likes old, charming, dirty, inconvenient, crowded cities might like Venice. At least maybe in April or May.

Venice - Rialto

But I didn’t have the least little bit of regret for spending my day at the Dolomites. If I ever turn up missing…don’t look for me in the Dolomites. Just saying.

Step Count: 20,000
Cumulative total: 72,000

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Day 3 – Dublin to Venice

I still haven’t completely adjusted to the time change. Either that, or I’m suffering from a laundry induced hangover. But I made myself get up. Somehow.

An important element to my two week back pack trip was the need to wash clothes every now and again. I picked this “apart/hotel” especially so that I could do laundry and was pleased to find that there was a washer/dryer combo right in the tiny unit.

But things went downhill from there and I was probably up an extra hour of delirium last night trying to get the combo washer/dryer to work. It would act like it was going to before dissolving into incessant beeping. I even got out of bed twice to try it before finally turning the whole thing off—my clothes still locked tightly inside.

Today, I hoped, things would be different.

Things were not different. But I did need my clothes back and preferably clean. One trip down to the receptionist desk was all it took and a happy red headed maintenance man named Ian showed up a few minutes later. I was somewhat relieved to find that it had not been solely operator error and very relieved to find that he was able to fix it. Hallelujah!

Most folks I talked to thought a two day stay in Ireland was ridiculously short, but I believed I had at least gotten a fair taste of this beautiful country. In the afternoon, I would catch a flight to Venice via Cologne, Germany.

The bus stop to the airport was just across the street from the hotel, but I still had a few minutes between check out and the time I really needed to be on my way to the airport, so I thought I’d find something to eat and visit the “Castle of Dublin”—which Siri showed was only a 9 minute walk.

I followed Siri through the busy streets passing by the mix of modern and classic buildings including these churches:

Dublin Christ Church Cathedral
Church of Ireland (Protestant)

And passed the Queen of Tarts where I bought a scone.

Dublin Queen of Tarts

Then Siri told me I had arrived. And I saw this:

Dublin Castle

Not quite what I had in mind.

I tried to get a Siri to recalibrate and she took me down a different street. Then another. And another. And kept telling me I had arrived. I was getting less and less about the castle and more and more concerned about time but I kept thinking it would be a shame to miss it since by all accounts I was quite close and in all likelihood there would be a bus stop right nearby it.

By the time I saw signs pointing to the castle, it had sunk in to me that the smaller bus stops I was seeing did not have the 747, the line running to the airport. If I really knew what I was doing, I could probably catch any bus and make the transfer. But alas, I did not know what I was doing…in fact, I couldn’t even find the Castle of Dublin in the middle of Dublin.

Besides, my backpack was starting to feel like it weighed 1,000 pounds. (Where are the Bostic boys when you need them? I’m not used to having to carry anything. 🙂

So I hightailed it back to the bus station and waited for the 747 and connived how I would get my stuff on the plane with an 8 kg limit without paying any fees.

When I arrived at DUB, cutting it a little closer than I would have liked, I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say there were hundreds, perhaps even a thousand people in line in front of me. But leave it to the Irish to move hordes of people through a long security line efficiently. In fact, as many airports as I’ve been in, I was mesmerized by the system they had for tubs and scanners.

It was a short flight to Cologne. I researched every option I could think of to find a way to see some of the old city during my layover, but alas, three hours was just not enough so I had to content myself with getting a stamp in my passport, eating a Bratwurst, and buying a magnet to prove this trip included Germany. Then I tried to catch up on emails and texts.

The flight to Venice was also only about an hour, but even so, it was 10:00 PM local time when we arrived. Unlike Ireland, Italy was dark, hot, quiet, and much less user friendly or people friendly. Perhaps because English was no longer a thing and I was having to guess at how to get a bus ticket to where I needed to go.

Thankfully, I figured it out and was soon at the main bus depot in Venezia. It took me a minute once I got off to collect my wits and it took Siri even longer to collect hers.

Venice
Piazzale Roma

The city did look pretty in the lamplight, but frankly it smelled terrible and I was a little too tired for sightseeing anyway. I was ready for the hotel and praying the Siri would be in a better mood than she had been in Dublin that morning.

I do think Siri was trying; I’ll give her that. But navigating through Venice by foot is much like being in a 3D maze. What I originally thought were just alleys were, in fact streets, and they started and ended wherever they like in no organized fashion. Siri apparently kept losing signal and I found myself having to retrace my steps from time to time.

Streets of Venice in Daylight

I tried to ask a local where my hotel was but her either had no idea or he pretended he didn’t. That didn’t inspire confidence. Then I noticed that although the streets were getting less and less populated (it was getting close to midnight), a high percentage of folks I saw were also holding a black box in front of them—their faces illuminated by a soft glow. Either a high percentage of tourists were playing Pokémon Go or else I was not the only one on the struggle bus with Siri.

Gradually, I started to get the hang of looking for the street names on the buildings and guessing better what Siri was saying vs what she was actually thinking. The hotel sign finally stuck out in front of me and I stepped into a very, very lovely blast of AC.

Welcome to Venice. 

Total Step Count for the day: 12,000.  Cumulative Step Count: 52,000

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Europe with a Backpack – Day 2

Bunratty – Cliffs of Moher – Galway

Day started with a “true Irish breakfast” although I’m not sure I can really say that since I skipped the blood pudding, beans, and bangers. I guess it was a true American breakfast at an Irish hotel. Such is life. I’m not eating blood pudding without a really, really good reason.

And I was late for the group tour and the driver today was grumpy enough to make up for the friendly guides yesterday. Alas.

But we started off back at Bunratty Castle and the “folk Park” there. There are about 1,000 steps in the Castle and I think I climbed every one of them three times…I kept having to back up to let other folks by because that’s what you do in a traffic jam on the winding narrow staircases in the towers. They were worth every step though.

The grounds were also much more interesting than I anticipated and I wished we had more time. Even though I kept moving, I was not able to see everything (maybe I would have been okay if I hadn’t kept backing up on the stairs). But anyway, I didn’t want to be late given the grumpy bus driver. And the fact that they will leave you if you’re late. Yikes.

We stopped at a little town called Doolin for lunch. Other than a tiny strip of shops, it was nothing at all. I did see a place to rent bikes which might make a great way to spend the day if you really enjoy looking at grass. And if you had a really good bike. It’s a hilly town.

Ireland - Fish and chips

From there we went to the Cliffs of Moher. The Cliffs were worth the whole trip. I was glad the weather was beautiful and that it was as clear as it was. I made full use of our time and, again, I could have used a lot more. But I used what time I had and tried to make my Fitbit very proud of me.

The scenic drive continued and I was thankful for the elevated bus that allowed us to see quite a ways as we drove along the coast. We stopped a couple of times for photo ops and even I took some selfies. I never take selfies.

Drive

We wound our way back to Galway where I visited the Spanish arches and once again, visited drug stores looking for a converter. The one I bought for 5 Euro yesterday worked for my computer but did not have a USB port for my phone.

Galway 2

The train ride back to Dublin was pleasant. In between trying to catch up on emails and texts, I chatted with some other folks from the tour and a much more friendly guide that had joined us in Galway. He was full of tidbits like where and how the Euro is printed and where the pictures on it were from. I learned that there are quite a few tea totalers in Ireland such that the overall alcohol consumption per capita is actually low for Europe. Who knew. I had only met one other lady so far that didn’t drink and she was from Michigan.

It was deceptively light when we got back to Dublin considering it was closing in on 10:00 pm. I had a clean efficient little room across from the church of Ireland waiting for me and rounded out my steps at 18,000…probably would have been 28,000 if we had had another hour at the Cliffs of Moher…but such is life.

My great day in Ireland wasn’t quite over, but I’ll save the rest for another day.

Posted on by lgandre

Europe with a Back Pack

Galway
Galway

 

Day one: Dublin – Galway – Bunratty

It was a six hour red eye from New York to Dublin. And apparently, when you book the $212 bargain ticket, they don’t give you so much as a drop of water on the flight. We arrived about 8:15 am (3:15 am EST).So it was a welcome miracle that I actually walked out of the airport feeling sorta good.

I took a shuttle through Dublin to the train station where I would be catching a group tour to Galway—a small city on the coast. They had clocked in my backpack at 7.2 kg at the airport (yes, they weigh carryons) but it felt heavy enough– I was glad I had packed light (although I did realize I had accidentally left the “perfect” electric converter that I bought especially for the trip).

The train station just felt like a lot of other train stations I’ve been in…with vendors selling coffee, pastries, smoothies, etc. I wanted something to eat although I tried to talk myself out of it on the basis of it being 3:00 am and all. But I did locate the desk for the tour group. It was deserted. So I found a seat nearby waited. Then I found water and waited. Then I got a smoothie and waited. Then I got more water.

As time for the train got closer, I began to get a little concerned, but just before 11:00, Sean showed up. Followed by Pat. Turns out, I was the only person signed up for the tour that day, but these lovely retired gentleman worked as guides and made sure I got my money’s worth.

About halfway to Galway, the train stopped and about a dozen college boys got on. They ordered beer from the concessions and after one or two, started blasting their Irish tunes from their cell phones…and then started singing along. So…I got the Irish pub experience. To be clear…I didn’t go to an Irish pub. The pub came to me.

When we got to Galway, they handed me a map and a fistful of other brochures and tickets told me to meet them back at the bus in about 3 hours.  All the work I had done to travel easy and light seemed undone as I constantly shifted the brochures around in my hands.

Galway is a great place to walk…especially for someone directionally challenged like me.  All roads seem to eventually lead back to the city center.

There are pedestrian streets of shops including about 1,000 little drug stores. I’m pretty sure I went to all 1,000 of them looking for a converter for my computer and phone. I eventually shelled out 5 Euros for a cheap one for my computer, a few more for water and a chocolate croissant, and a few more for magnets. I was thankful I didn’t have any luggage space to spare so I wasn’t tempted to buy much.  All that though, and no one gave me a bag I could put the brochures in…so now I was carrying water, a converter, and brochures.  I didn’t look like a tourist at all.Streets in Galway

Anyway… for me, the real fun of Galway was walking along the coast. There are beautiful views of the Atlantic…little boats…swans…and a small lighthouse.

The Salmon Bridge (Galway)
Salmon Bridge

I visited the church where Columbus said his final prayers before heading for his voyage to discover America. And I took pictures of the beautiful cathedral.

The cathedral - Galway
Cathedral

The streets were lively and in fact, had a lot of musicians playing here or there. One of the most prominent was playing Darius Rucker and other songs like “Take me Home Country Roads.” Glad I got to enjoy the local culture.  (Actually Irish music and American country are basically the same thing…about girls and alcohol.)

100% of our group (me) was on time for our pick up, but the bus was about 40 minutes late. So Mike and Pat and I chatted some before me and my back pack loaded on the 50 person bus and headed to Bunratty Castle.

Me and all my friends
Me and all my Friends

This road trip was beautiful. Lots of sprawling farms, sheep, and stone fences.

I didn’t understand why the banquet at the castle started at 9:00 pm until I realized that for many folks (coming from the US) it was only 4:00 pm and for the rest of the folks (Europeans), their nights are just getting started at 9:00.

The folks at Dunratty Castle made the evening fun with good food, good music (better than the train), and good humor. We sat family style packed in the ate with our fingers. The only complaint I heard was that the wine was awful, which didn’t bother me since I don’t drink and had already been in one Involuntary Irish pub that day.

Bunratty
Bunratty Castle

They wrapped up the evening with a beautiful acappela version of Danny Boy and a rousing ballad about whiskey. I walked back to my hotel as the rest of the crowd headed across the street to the pub.

All in all, it was a day well spent.  My fitbit said I had taken 22,000 steps and my feet suggested in may have been even more than that.  And I didn’t regret a single one.

 

Posted on by lgandre · 1 Comment

I Give You My Heart

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One of the many gifts I received from the kids (others included custom jewelry and original artwork).

So I just got back from Burma.  Yes, I still call it that.

I get excited when we break through the clouds to see the rice fields  dotted with golden pagodas.  That is, as much as  you can get excited when you’re brain dead and saddle sore from 24 hours of travel.

Burma is fairly homogenized–80% Buddhist.  Yet diverse–there are over 250 languages.  It has breathtaking views.  And ugly slums.  It’s GDP per capita is well below the poverty line (about the same as Syria).  Yet, there are the very rich.  In fact, I was shocked that the Rangoon airport is now home to high-end retailers such as Bolova, Swarovski, and Dolce and Gabbana–a sign that Burma (where we couldn’t use plastic of any kind up until a few years ago) is rapidly changing.

Some things needed to change.  Decades of violence, persecution, and poverty.

Then there are a few memories I want to hold on to forever.

Time won’t permit me to do more than scratch the surface, but here are a few snapshots from this recent trip.

Long Drives.  Long Days.

We waited several hours for our pick up ride to Hope.  There’s nothing quite like spending four days in travel for five days in country…and then spend the better part of the first day waiting for a ride.

My “to do” oriented mind took a little while to adjust to new pace.  But I really had no choice.  And before long, I was loving how I lose all concept of time in Burma. I can go an entire day without looking at a calendar or a clock.

I spent a lot of time driving around in the back of a truck last week.  And a lot of time just sitting with a kid on my lap.  Or walking around holding little hands.

I did nothing.  I loved it.

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The Joys of Hard Work

A lot of hard work was done while we were there.  Just not by me.

The official purpose of our visit mostly centered around the finishes for Hope Children’s Home, the facility Remember constructed in 2015.  We have been investing in the lives of about 60 kids from difficult (or non-existent) family situations over the past several years.

The men on the team worked diligently on woodworking, plumbing, and electrical needs.  I love how they incorporated the kids into their work and started teaching them valuable trade skills.

And then in the evenings, they would join in and play, sing, and strum guitars with the whole bunch.

They even wore the “man skirt;” Longyi.

New Clothes.

When we arrived, I couldn’t miss just how grungy some of the kids looked.  Especially the little ones.  They have neat, clean school uniforms, but on days when they are off, anything will do.  And I mean anything.  In fact, it doesn’t have to be clothes; tattered pajamas work just as well.  Not only would the fashion police have locked them up permanently, but during this “dry” season, the dirt had no respect for their laundry efforts.

I was especially taken with one of the youngest little girls.  She was making do with a tank top that was so ill fitting, the neck line hung halfway to her waist.  In the modest culture,  she made up for the lack of fabric by wearing a fleece jacket with a broken zipper.  She tried to hold it closed but it was eighty something degrees, and beside that, it’s hard to play frisbee while holding a jacket closed.

I was kind of surprised since we have brought and bought the kids clothes recently.  But then,  I’m still learning about how things unfold at Hope.  So we made it a point to at least get some new shirts for all the younger girls.  Not trying to leave anything to chance, Anita and I brought them inside and had them each change into their new shirt.  But as soon as we sent them on their merry way, they changed back into their old shirts.  Maybe they were saving the new ones.  Maybe they were too young to care.  But we weren’t clothes heroes this time around. Kinda funny in a way.

Mind you, I did confiscate the ill-fitting tank top.  And I have no regrets.

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Yes, they’re all girls…Keeping their hair short is typical until they are deemed old enough to take care of it.

Learning Names.

I’ve been to Burma ten times.  And I’ve learned about ten names.  Maybe.

They are just hard.  They are all different, yet all the same.  So…foreign.

So this time, I tried.  Really tried to learn their names.  I didn’t get them all, but you can see I had good teachers:

American Isn’t All Bad

Two words: look closely.

wires

The Second Plague

So, just to give you some context on this one, I hate frogs.  They are spiders, snakes, and mosquitos all rolled into one for me.  There is something about croaking sliminess that jumps that I prefer to live with out.

So here you go:

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Yes, that is a frog on the toilet paper roll.

Croak.

But that wasn’t the worst. Here’s the moment that could have made you rich if you had it on video:

I was in the girls’ dorm where we were trying to do a bit of a makeover on the bathroom.  I tried to demonstrate for the little girls how to take a shower in the inside stalls–instead of the outside cistern.

Since my Burmese is rather, uh, limited, I was relying heavily on charades to explain to them what and how while fully dressed in one of the stalls.  I thought I had a rapped audience until one of the girls’ interrupted:

“Teacha…Pappa!”

I looked where she was pointing in time to see an enormous frog perched on wall inches from my nose.

So the demonstration ended rather abruptly into giggles as I jumped out of that stall faster than was probably necessary to avoid being eaten alive by the slight green monster.

Curious George

One of the boys asked me to read to him and I promised I would after dinner.  Then I promptly forgot.

But he didn’t forget.  After dinner, he sought me out with Curious George in tow.  We settled down in the library and I read the book.  Then another.  And another.  And another.  And another.  A small group listened attentively through eight full Curious George books.

The craziest part: they couldn’t understand a word.

They listened attentively through page after page of Curious George randomness in a foreign language.

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These kids are so different.  So much less saturated in media and entertainment.  So much more willing to engage in simple games–bubbles, Frisbee, or hopscotch.  They love to laugh, love to play, love to give, love be affectionate.

Mind you, they are still kids.  Still under construction.  Still in need of discipline.   Teaching.  Parenting.  But for everything I could teach them, there is something they could teach me.

They are lovely in a way that their mug shots just don’t communicate and in a way that made me absolutely fall in love.

Dirty Faces

One more story that I just have to tell.  The little ones and I were entertaining ourselves by making music videos.  It was good fun all around.  But we got to one particularly cute song and I accidently messed up the settings on my phone and it turned out like this:

Again, using charades, I tried to explain to the little crowd of girls (and boys who had joined) that their faces were washed out and we needed to re-tape.  I kept trying to demonstrate until the light bulb seemed to come on for one of the girls and she began urgently explaining the problem to the other kids.

“Sorry! Sorry!”  They all chorused and went running off.

I was completely surprised to see them all rush to a tub of dirty dishwater and vigorously scrub their faces.  They were still apologizing when they got back until I was the one in tears apologizing.

They thought I was telling them we needed to redo it because they were dirty.  They thought I didn’t like runny noses and crusty eyes.  But it wasn’t that at all.

I need to learn Burmese.  I love these people

Evening Devotions

After dinner, the kids had devotions.  They play guitar and sing beautifully.  They especially love to sing into a microphone being blasted through a needlessly large amp cranked up enough to make an airliner need earplugs.

Some songs they sang in English including:

This is my desire
To honor You
Lord, with all my heart
I worship You
All I have within me
I give You praise
All that I adore
Is in You

Lord, I give You my heart
I give You my soul
I live for you alone
And every breath that I take
Every moment I’m awake
Lord, have Your ways in me

[Hillsong – I Give You My Heart Lyrics | MetroLyrics]

I don’t know that they understand the lyrics completely.  Maybe none of us do.  But I know this: I want them to understand.  I want them to mean it.  And if a passion for Christ can be shared, I hope we understand and mean it well enough that we can share it with them.

And I hope it requires a few more trips.

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After praise and testimonies from the team, we prayed together.  In fact, they had our team gather and they surrounded us and prayed for us.  All sixty of them.  All at once.  It was my turn to not understand a word.  But it was the most beautiful sound.  Sixty young voices lifted in heartfelt prayer for us.

I cried.

And if you were there, you would have too.

There you have it.  I’ve taken several thousand words and I’ve barely scratched the surface.  But it’s the best I can do in a single blog post.

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And to all of  you who sponsor these kids or to gave to the construction of Hope, so many thanks!  Maybe, one day, you can come and get your own fresh cut flowers, original artwork, and custom jewelry.  And maybe you can be part of passing on a passion for Christ that enables us to sing together: Lord I give you my heart…have your way in me.

Posted on by lgandre · 2 Comments

Day 6. Jerusalem!

View of the grave sites on the Mt of Olives
The current dome is where the temple would have been in Jesus’ time
Another view from the Mt of Olives
A White Foal

Our last day started at the top of the Mount of Olives…where Jesus spent a good bit of time and, in fact, wept over the city of Jerusalem.  It was also where Jesus and his disciples went after the last supper.  The mountain got it’s name from the many olive groves–including the Garden of Gethsemane (at least, as we know it). The mountain was used as a burial site and has about 150,000 graves…including (by tradition) the graves of some of the prophets.

From there we walked to the Garden of Gethsemane.  There were quite a few people there which didn’t give much opportunity to appreciate  what it would have been like the last night before the cross as the Lord prayed in agony.  I wished the trees could talk–some of the trees still thriving there may date back to the time of Christ.

Jesus was arrested and taken down into the city–a steep walk even now.  There are lots more sites and cathedrals along the way, but we were more excited about sticking to the actual story than taking in the tradition, relics, and various churches–all wanting their piece of the holy land–along the way.

The first trial would have taken place either at/near the temple or the house of Caiaphas–somewhere with a courtyard.  Jesus had broken the Sabbath in their minds on many occasions, but that was not a capital offense, so the Pharisees needed something else.  Thus, Jesus was charged with the capital crime of destroying the temple.  But when they could not find the required two witnesses to corroborate any of the accusations, they got him on another charge–blasphemy.  He claimed to be the Son of God by His own admission.

Actually being there–even in a rebuilt city–gave us some appreciation for the various places Christ would have been taken that night.  The determined religious leaders covered quite a bit of ground, taking him from the Mount of Olives to Caiphus, to Pilate, to Herod, to Pilate, then the place of the execution.  Most of the way is now in the Muslim quarter of Old Jerusalem although the alleged “Via Dolorosa” winds through a good part of the city…mostly 30 feet or so above where Jesus would have actually carried the cross.

IMG_0432The temple itself, of course, is now a Muslim holy site.  One of the nearby shopkeepers, however, in exchange for our willingness to browse in this shop, gave us access to the rooftop of a Muslim school with incredible views into the Temple Mount.

The people who had seen Jesus in Bethesda–just steps away from there–heal a paralytic, and so many other signs and wonders now yelled, “Crucify him,” “We want Barabbas!” and even, “We have no king by Ceaser!”  Even Pilate could tell that He had been delivered up because of envy, but he feared a riot…so he let the people have their way.

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A view of the remains of the pool of Bethesda

At some point, Jesus was taken to the governor’s headquarters, stripped and scourged.  And from there, he was taken to Golgotha–or the place of a skull.

There are two prevailing views on where Golgotha or Calvary is and the fact is, no one knows for sure.  But we went to the place called the “Garden Tomb” which helped us catch a glimpse of what that last night might have been like.

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You can’t see it well from this picture, but there is a definite skull like rock formation in this cliff…and it otherwise fits the biblical description of the crucifixion well, being just outside the city walls (at that time) and in a traffic thoroughfare where they held frequent executions.  It may have actually been on the parking lot or the cliff above…again…we don’t know.  But either would stand in stark contrast to the fanfare of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher–which is partially owned by six different spatting denominations.

From there, the body may have been laid in the garden tomb, hewn out of the hillside nearby.  Again, we don’t know, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter.  Why would we look for the living among the dead?  His bones aren’t there…or anywhere.

He is Risen! 

He is not here…He is Risen!
Come, see the place where the Lord lay…

The past, present, and future of Jerusalem is a story unrivaled by any other place.  As we walked the streets, the words of the song, The Holy City rang in my head.  One day, Jesus will return in like manner as He left.  May He find us celebrating the fact that He came, lived, died, and ultimately won victory won over sin and death.

Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Lift up your gates and sing!
Hosanna in the highest!
Hosanna to your king!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on by lgandre

Day 5. The City of David

IMG_0358We started out our day Friday walking to the City of David.  This is confusing, so hang with me here…

David founded Jerusalem, taking the hill from the Jebusites and moving the capital from the Judean area of Hebron into a more central area not previously identified with any tribe.

IMG_0355He built a fantastic city which has remains (recently excavated) that we believe include his palace.  They even found some clay seals which have some of the names of biblical authorities around David’s time.  The clay–which would otherwise have disintegrated–was inadvertently “fired” by later conquerors of Jerusalem providing us some little bits of history thousands of years later.  Pretty cool.

In that time, for defensive reasons, people like to build cities on top of hills.  But most water sources were in the valleys.  Which is why you would have daughters.  Preferably, a bunch of them.

But even if you had girls to carry your water, there was another problem–a city without an internal water supply was not defensible at all.  So, as we have seen at other places, the people came up with some truly ingenious ways of working through that issue.  In this case, it included building a fortress around the water.  It is not completely preserved, but parts of it have been excavated and they are incredible–especially considering the types of tools that would have been available to them at that time.  Basically, bronze.

Jumping forward, years later, King Hezekiah would come up with yet another solution.  He changed the city wall and dug an amazing tunnel through the mountain–600 yards to divert that water and bring it inside. The Bible recounts this story and the fact that they started on the two ends and managed to meet in the middle.  It is almost unbelievable, but our eyes saw it and half of us had the fun of walking up the tunnel back into the city, ending near the pool of Siloam.  The water is still cold–running as high as our thighs in some places.

Tell you what, things they built back they were built to last.  No wonder Hezekiah liked to show off. Interestingly, the Syrians did come to attack Hezekiah, God struck them with blindness and they did not prevail at that time.

Some of the history is hard to picture even standing there on the spot because the cities have been built, destroyed, and rebuilt so many times over the thousands of years. Walls have been moved; buildings have changed purposes, etc. Until fairly recently, there was not a lot of effort to excavate or preserve much of anything in the City of David…the old, old Jerusalem. In fact, most of it is just an Arab neighborhood.

Of course, we know that the first temple site was also in the City of David (annexed to it, actually), not built by David, but by his son, Solomon. That temple was destroyed and later reconstructed by Ezra.

The next really impressive temple was actually built by Herod, not long before the days of Christ. It was really more of a political move for Herod and it served to both appease the Jews and provide for a center of commerce. At Jesus’ time, there was a new Jerusalem (now, the “Old City”) on the mountain above the City of David, and on it, Herod enclosed a huge site into a large table (now, the “Temple Mount”). The stones used to build this site are incredible. We saw one 6000 tons: is was 32 feet long and 15 feet deep. Curtis used the level app on its phone and we could see that 2000 years later, it was still perfectly level. The stones aren’t cemented together in any way—they don’t have to be I guess. Even now with our modern tools, a 6000 ton stone isn’t going much of anywhere.

As Jesus prophesied, the temple which stood there during his day was completely torn down and hundreds of years later, the Dome of the Rock was built there and the Muslims claim it now as a holy site. The temple mount remains, however, as an incredible tribute to Herod’s construction prowess. And, of course, it is still the site of much biblical history from Jesus as a young boy to his throwing out money changers just days before his death. The massive size of it also gives perspective on how many pilgrims would have traveled to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover in those days. Thousands from all over would have heard and known of Jesus and taken the stories back to their cities and villages.

Gilad thinks of Jesus as one man in a sea of similar ones who claimed to be a Messiah—some who were trouble makers and some who were crazy. Had it not been for his two incredible PR people—Peter and Paul—he doesn’t think he would have made much of a splash in history at all. (Of course, there is this little thing of the resurrection that set Jesus apart, but more on that tomorrow.)

He said, somewhat critically, although perhaps just as an observation, “You people see Jesus is everything. You read the Old Testament and you think everything points to Jesus.”

And he’s right.

And I’ve seen Jesus in Israel—from the City of David (his great great-great-great grandfather) to the stories we heard of recent Jewish history while watching  Jewish boys playing in the streets of the Jewish quarter.  The story is one of law and grace.  Law which came through Moses and grace which came through Jesus Christ.

The Jewish people have a history that ties together the Old and New Testaments. The fact that they are still around at all after the wars, desolations, holocausts, dispersions, and drama that checkers their past screams of a God who chose them to be His people and who sent his Son as a Savior.