Other Trips. Here’s the part where I brag about all the places I’ve been to – aside from the places I’ve already bragged about in earlier blogs (mainly Brazil and Romania). Unlike Erma Bombeck, I won’t try to disguise this as complaints (“where’s the bathroom? Where’s the gift shop?”) but take it as you find it. None of these trips were backpacking or spent in youth hostels, by the way – mostly as a kid with my family or school.
South of France. In summer 1979, having moved to France in January of that year, my family took a trip to the French Riviera. We stayed in a small French medieval village, Tourrette (sic), with narrow, winding streets and no Internet. This was up in the hills, very different terrain than in northern France around Paris, where it is mostly flat and farmland. Adults might call it “charming”, but as a kid I’d simply consider it “medieval.” However, it did have running water and electricity, so it wasn’t exactly camping. Without the Black Plague, I can’t say it was truly medieval.
I recall the drive was 10-12 hours each way, with lots of backed-up traffic outside Lyon. For some reason I was hoping to find some Asterix the Legionary memorabilia, but who knows why anyone would have been selling any. We went to the beach at St. Rafael, as Cannes was too crowded. The most notable thing about French beaches, aside from them being topless (which I noticed even at 10 years old), were the excellent French fry stands. We also went to a local lake one day. Finally we breezed through Nice and took a day tour of Monte Carlo, aka Monaco, which had its own royal palace which was a blatant ripoff of Versailles. My experience with beaches up till this time had been limited to Ocean City, Maryland. The waves at these beaches in France were almost none – but the views were somewhat more exciting.
Ski Trips x2 – Saas Fee. My brother and I went skiing in Switzerland with Marymount. This was our first time, so we started off snowplowing. My parents had to scramble with us to buy ski clothes in downtown Paris, including thermal underwear – and I drove them crazy insisting on a pair of “moon boots”. I remember a Dutch auction on the first trip, and some fondue restaurant on one of them. This is where I first learned skiing – 1979-82? The years escape me. The only other thing was our friend Steve’s older brother Dave bringing a bunch of Deep Purple tapes (“Machine Head”?). Aside from the chalet itself, the only other part of Switzerland we saw during these trips was the ski village where the slopes were.
London. I lose track of how many times we visited, various times between 1979 and 1985. A friend of my father’s, in the USTTA, lived near Baron’s Court in southwest London, and we’d trade apartments with them. The first time we drove and took the hovercraft, then a ferry from Ostend, Belgium, and finally said “screw it” (we hated the 5 hour drive back to Paris from Calais) and took the plane. To this day, if you set me off the Tube in Baron’s Court, I could probably trace my way to their apartment. Downtown we saw Buckingham Palace, the US Embassy (though we preferred the Navy Annex around the corner), Hamleys, Harrod’s, Selfridge’s, all the most important stuff. In summer 1983 we saw “Return of the Jedi” at Leicester Square (with idiot Brit kids behind us yelping “ooh, Wheetabix!” and “corr… there’s Darth Vader”). In summer 1985 we survived Donington – including Metallica with Cliff Burton! Woohoo! In London we could speak ENGLISH and hear it spoken – and get Asterix and Tintin books in English. We also sought out Intellivision tapes, and I got some good models at Hamley’s, and later a few roleplaying games – I even trekked out to Eastcote to buy Cults of Prax from some guy; and we did a live action D&D adventure in some caves in Chistlehurst, traveling in some quaint Hogwarts Express with cabins that opened directly onto the platform. War nut, I got to see the Imperial War Museum. We’d watch BBC TV and understand it – even if it was a bit quaint and not as exciting, slick or professional as American TV. It’s funny, now I’m nuts about Arsenal and English football, but back when we were there, I had no use for it and ignored it completely. D’oh!
Italy. This was in spring 1981, a school trip (Marymount-Paris) to Rome and Pompeii. We saw the Colosseum (from outside), passed by briefly the Circus Maximus – home of the chariot races (a la Ben Hur), and listened to the “Hell’s Bells” bells of St. Peters, which we actually went in – but did not meet the Pope or Robert Langdon. Whatever “sights” there are to see in Rome (big face supposed to eat your hand, fountains, Spanish steps, etc) we saw; we probably ended up in most of the various churches featured in “Angels & Demons” – except for St. Peters and the Parthenon, they’re all more or less the same.
On the way down the Pompeii we scored some cap guns which were lots of fun but drove the teachers nuts. Unfortunately Pink Floyd were long gone from Pompeii, but it was still fun.
We stayed at Marymount campus in Rome, and were entertained with student-appropriate fun at night. They showed us “Fame” one night, and “Bullitt” another. My major focus was getting Coca Cola from the vending machine in the cafeteria every morning, horrifying everyone by having Coke for breakfast.
Although I went with the school, my family went at the same time, loosely tracking our itinerary and meeting up with me in Rome and Pompeii. That certainly made it more fun. My dad had asked me, beforehand, if it was “cool with me” if they went too, and I said sure – far be it from me to want the experience to be exclusive to myself.
USSR. This was one of my favorite and most memorable trips. Bucharest I went to long after Ceaucescu was overthrown, but Russia was different. This was 10-12 days in March 1983 on a school trip in high school (American School of Paris). Kiev, Moscow and Leningrad (aka Petrograd or St. Petersburg). This was the Soviet Union, the USSR, full blown communist dictatorship. Brezhnev had died, followed shortly after by Yuri Andropov, so at this time Chernenko was the leader – before Gorbachev, glasnost or perestroika. The only Western item was Pepsi – no McDonalds, no neon, no gangsters. All three cities appeared to be mostly devoid of color – except red – or happy, joyous people, aside from tourists, who were happy and joyous because we didn’t live there. Any and all “consumer products” were cheap and shitty, with unimaginative generic packaging out of the 50s. They had FOUR different types of car. The TV had …farm reports? It was like a huge open-air prison. No wonder vodka was so plentiful.
I didn’t manage to trade for anything with Russian soldiers, instead I scored tons of communist posters for almost nothing, a St. Basil’s, a balalaika, lots of Red pins, and a stuffed animal from the GUM Dept. store across Red Square from Lenin’s Tomb (which I didn’t visit). The problem with this trip was that none of my friends were on it, so I was pretty much stuck at the hotel most of the time at night by myself.
In Moscow we did go to the ballet (not the Bolshoi, though) to see “Don Quixote”, taking the Metro there. The Metro is worth a trip in itself: white and black marble statues of workers, peasants, soldiers and sailors – unlike ANY other subway in the world. It’s a museum of propaganda that doubles as a real urban transit system. It’s ironic that the Washington DC metro is so dull and utilitarian – every station with the same dark concrete interiors – while Moscow has something truly beautiful and wonderful. Thanks, Stalin!
When we went to Red Square during the day, I had left my camera back in the hotel. D’oh! In Leningrad we stayed at the Astoria Hotel, where Hitler bragged he would invite his generals to lunch once the German siege had successfully captured the city (didn’t happen). That’s also where I had chicken Kiev for the first time, as the hotel in Kiev (Bratislava) was some cheap, concrete monstrosity, not nearly classy enough to serve the delicious meal named for its city. The tour guides referred to the Germans as “Fascists”, so as not to offend any East Germans. The guides consistently refused to be baited into criticizing the Soviet regime. WWI was referred to as “The Imperialist War”, and WWII as “The Great Patriotic War”. We even met a group of Russian college students, who were friendly and definitely eager to talk – and bond – with American students. Among the less memorable moments were the endless litany of monestaries – old churches, Russian Orthodox monks, etc. Maybe my dad would have appreciated that, but I certainly didn’t. I wanted to see tanks (and saw a few in Kiev). In Kiev, we listened to, and sang along to, “Back in the USSR” in my hotel room. As you can imagine, it was quite an adventure.
Lourdes. This is a small town in the far south of France, in the Pyrenees mountains which divide France from Spain. It’s a famous pilgrimage place thanks to St. Bernadette, who discovered a holy spring with healing powers. My family went there, bringing my grandmother along, and bringing back lots of bottles of the water.
On one hand, the place was very depressing. Lots of old and sick people desperately hoping to be cured by the waters of the grotto, which was lined with ancient crutches. On the other hand, it’s up in the mountains, with beautiful scenery, even better than “The Sound of Music”. Even so, I was glad to be out of there.
Egypt. This was a class trip in high school, for about 4 days, starting and ending in Cairo with Luxor (the real Luxor) in between. It was hot, dry, and very dirty. We saw the Great Pyramid of Cheops, the Sphinx, lots of ancient temples full of pillars and statutes but no roof or Egyptian priests…and certainly no mummies. The Pyramid was somewhat of a letdown, as inside it’s only short square passages leading to an empty burial chamber (“that’s IT?”) – well, what did you expect? The damn thing is just a huge tombstone you can bury some Pharaoh IN, instead of in front of. The Valley of Kings was a bit more interesting, including King Tut’s Tomb. We brought back a fez, a few ankhs, some parchment with hieroglypics, and not much else. I had been reading H.P. Lovecraft, but we saw no signs of Nyarlathotep. Damn.
Holland. At some point my family visited Amsterdam. During this trip we took a day trip which included Rotterdam, The Hague, Delft, a wooden shoe factory, a tulip warehouse, among other things which clearly weren’t important enough to remember. I do remember Amsterdam’s red light district and the Anne Frank house. There were a few windmills, but no floods. Everyone seemed to speak English and be very friendly towards Americans.
The Hague. In January 1985 and January 1986, I visited the Hague for Model United Nations. Unlike the USSR trip, this time I was among friends. In ’85 my companions were my Canadian friends Phil, Sean & Sean, whereas in ’86 it was Marc, Geoff and Jean (of German wedding fame) who went off on their own [Ok, in ’85 I was there among friends]. Most of the day was spent at the MUN building. In ’85 I was on the Ukrainian SSR delegation on the topic of apartheid – one of dozens of delegates trying (unsuccessfully) to get MY damn resolution passed. In ’86 I was on the Israeli delegation, also on the apartheid issue – even less successful because Israel was one of the few countries sticking up for South Africa. I met with the South African, US, and UK delegates and we all agreed that it was pointless to try to get anything passed. Then everyone went off to socialize. The General Assembly was pretty cool, but most of the time you’d just goof off at the table and pass resolutions around. I have to wonder how much more productive and useful the real UN is.
Belgium. Like London, this was one place we visited fairly often. 90% of the time this meant SHAPE and the PX, staying in Mons. We also visited Bruges once (of which I recall so little, none of the Colin Farrell movie struck me as familiar) and Brussels, which I remember (A) the Mannequin Pis, (B) the Metropole Hotel (with its pitch black hotel room), (D) tram cars, (E) waffles, and (F) the Atom-whatever sculpture for some World’s Fair, not much competition for the Eiffel Tower.
Germany. Regrettably, I’ve been to far less of Germany, far less often than I’d have liked. I’ve already noted several times my obsession with Nazi Germany and WWII, but my experiences have been very few.
1. Trips with my family to Kaiserslautern and Ramstein, the two US bases closest to the French border. With SHAPE only 3 hours away and these places 5-6 hours, there was not much incentive to go to Germany for PX’ing. In Ramstein we spoke French in an Italian restaurant at the officer’s club of a US base in Germany.
2. Trip with my family to Nuremburg around Christmas time. Mostly this was spent at various “Christmas” craft markets. ZZZ. The tour bus stopped for 15 minutes at the parade grounds (where the Nazi rallies were held, the thousands of SA and SS long gone) and drove past the castle-type thing where the trials were held.
3. Wedding in July 1996. Shortly after July 4, my buddy Jean (John) married his German sweetheart Ina in her home town. Here I learned how poor my German really was, as the reception was in German and I followed none of it. But Jean was cool and his inlaws were too.
I really want to go to Berlin, but I’ve never had a chance. I was in Paris in July 1990, around the time Roger Waters had his Wall concert there. Kill two birds with one stone, visit BERLIN, and see THE WALL!! – but without money and a means to get there, it couldn’t happen. Hamburg would be nice, but I don’t know if the Reeperbahn is the same as it was in the 60s when the Beatles and Black Sabbath endured their 8 hours sets at the Star Club and various other dives.
Garmisch. This was my most meaningful German experience. In January 1990 my brother, my best friend Phil, and I went to Garmisch to go skiing. Phil was coming from India, so he met us there in Garmisch a few nights after we got there. We stayed at the Patton Hotel, which had a bar with cheap drinks that closed early. We skied on the Zugspitze, taking the earliest cable car up in the morning and taking the last one down in the early evening. Phil and I rented skis, Matt had brought his own. I was still an advanced snowplower, so I meekly coasted down the intermediate slopes while Matt & Phil raced down, parallel skiing, on the expert slopes. In December 2008 I finally went skiing again, and made my own transition to parallel skiing at Massanutten – but that was just a patch of snow on the side of the mountain, not the German/Austrian Alps.
When I moved back to the US in 1990,that ended European travel except for (A) a trip in 1996 to my friend’s wedding in Germany (mentioned above), and (B) trips to Romania in 2006. I’ve already chronicled my Bucharest experiences in earlier blog entries, and covered my five trips to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in a much earlier blog.
Canada. For years in college, my “spring break” did not involve Fort Lauderdale or Cancun, but rather staying in my dorm, pretty much alone. Finally in law school, I left town: Ottawa, Canada, which was experiencing mild weather in mid-March of 1991. There was snow on the ground, which my friend Sean assured me would be gone had I come a week later. Ottawa was a strange mix of France and the US, like it couldn’t decide if it was European or American – similar to dreams, in which the scenery and location tends to change by the moment.
Las Vegas. Ok, this isn’t Europe (except the Paris hotel, the Bellagio, the Venetian, etc.). In October 1997 I went by myself to attend the SEMA convention. SEMA is the trade association for aftermarket suppliers of performance parts for cars. I was trying – unsuccessfully – to get my company, Innovative Performance Technology (IPT) off the ground, to make 17x9” copies of 16x8” wheels for Camaros and Firebirds. And I stayed in the Luxor Hotel, a copy of the real Luxor I had visited about 12 years before. I enjoyed the experience, but I’d have enjoyed the trip more had I been with someone else.
The SEMA show itself was incredible. I met David Freiburger, the editor of Car Craft; drag racers Jim Yates and Joe Amato; Myron Cottrell, the owner of TPIS; and I saw Vic Edelbrock and his family at the Edelbrock pavilion. If you’re into cars and making them faster – for your OWN car (not someone else’s multimillion dollar race car) – the SEMA show is for you.
Two years later, in 1999, I went back again for my best friend’s bachelor party. We stayed at the Mandalay Bay Hotel, which had just opened. With a group of friends, it was much more fun – although I only went to a strip joint the first night. Rollercoaster on New York, New York? Yes. Star Trek bar in the Hilton? Yes. Fountain at the Mirage? Yes. 2000 Black Sabbath calendar at Caesar’s Palace? Yep. Questioned bartender at the Rio Hotel why he couldn’t make a caipirinha? Yep. Naughty hypnotist show? Yep. Racing simulator at the Sahara? Yep. Drinks at the Paris Hotel? Sure. We got lots done from Thursday to Saturday. And I can’t even comment on the things I didn’t see. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
On neither trip did I spend so much as a nickel on gambling. I’ve been to Atlantic City, New Jersey, but Vegas strikes me as a place where there is so much more to do than simply gamble. The hotels themselves are marvels of achievement; nothing is half-assed or slipshod. Caesar’s Palace looks like it could be Roman; the Paris Hotel has a beautiful sky-painted ceiling, “gendarmes” patrolling the avenues, real baguettes in the patisserie, even the metal railings surrounding the tree trunks are authentic. The Luxor, of course, had its Egyptian motifs, but having seen how dirty the real Luxor was, perhaps total authenticity might not be such a good idea after all. The other oddity is that the casinos are open 24/7, and the noise of the slot machines is constant. Hell, there are slot machines on the concourse at the airport, as soon as you get off the plane: you know you’ve arrived in Vegas.
This is a unique city which has to be experienced first hand. One thing you learn from travel, no matter where it is: there is NO substitute for actually being there in person. No postcards, no slideshows, no travel documentaries, no matter how well produced, can take the place of personally experiencing the grit, dust, dirt and grime of that place. Stray dogs and gypsies in Bucharest – with its collapsing housing project apartment buildings. Copacabana’s rundown grime just blocks from the sunny beaches – or the favelas, should you dare to venture into them. Cars driving on the left side of the road in London, double decker buses, the Tube, and English spoken in that accent. Those gingerbread architecture and oompa-oompa music in German beer houses – or sleazy sex shows. Each place has something unique and special to offer, much of which not what the tour guides or travel books want to show you, but which you notice if you keep your eyes, ears and mind open as you absorb the stimulus all around you.
Where I Haven’t Been. I’ve had flights routed through various cities – São Paulo, Brazil; Helsinki, Finland; Milan, Italy – where I never left the terminal. I’d say that doesn’t count as “being there” since all airports are pretty much the same inside.
The only part of the Western Hemisphere south of the Rio Grande I’ve been to is Brazil. I haven’t been to Mexico, Central America, Spanish-speaking South America, or Brazil aside from Rio de Janeiro or Buzios. Rio is nowhere near the Amazon, and Brazil is similar to the US, a large country with various parts which are different from each other. I still believe that Rio de Janeiro is the most important part of Brazil to visit (if you’re going to visit Brazil at all) but I will readily concede that there is more to Brazil than Rio.
I haven’t been to any part of Asia – Vietnam, China, Japan, Korea, Thailand, India, etc. I’ve been invited to Vietnam several times in the last several years, but since I’ve never had a Vietnamese girlfriend, I don’t speak very much Vietnamese, and I don’t like Vietnamese food, I’ve been reluctant and never took up any of the offers. In Brazil I could speak Portuguese fairly well, so I could get by on my own. In Bucharest, my Romanian was too limited to help me out. I’d be lost in Vietnam without a companion. I don’t speak any Asian language and haven’t found any Asian food I like. I really have little interest in visiting any such place with the possible exception of Shanghai or Tokyo.
In Europe, I haven’t been to Spain, Portugal, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Ireland, Poland (and I’m ¾ Polish), Czech Republic, former Yugoslavia, Greece, Bulgaria, or Turkey (if you consider Turkey part of Europe – debatable). Egypt does it for “Middle East” or “Africa” depending on how you categorize that country. I already complained about my limited experiences in Germany, the part of Europe I’m most interested in.
Actually there are lots of places in the US I haven’t been to: California, Chicago, Texas, Seattle, the Mid West, Minnesota (and I’m a Vikings fan). I’ve known plenty of foreigners who have more experience traveling in my own country than I do.
