Quite by accident, we came upon Maifest in east-central Iowa's quaint Amana Colonies. It was, after all, May Day, so we shouldn't have been surprised. But we certainly weren't planning on finding entertainment, just the scenic way home from Iowa City to Des Moines.
The Amana Colonies are an Iowa and Midwest gem of a tourist attraction. The lovingly preserved and fiercely protected group of about 5 small towns used to be a communal community, founded by immigrants from Germany who fled both religious persecution and economic hardship in the 19th century. Not to be confused with the Amish, these Germans lived communally until economic conditions in this country proved that it would be better for individual families to live capitalistically. However, much of the simple industry and quality merchandise that grew the colonies remains, augmented by some savvy business owners who know a good place to plant their arts and craft gallery or coffee shop.
When we arrived at main Amana, the largest of the colonies, we stopped at Millstream Brewery, a picturesque shop along the canal that cuts across the farmland surrounding the village. In honor of Maifest, a gray haired man wearing lederhosen and woolen hat was serenading customers with a small guitar and a yodeling song; we listened to him while we ate bratwurst with sauerkraut and sampled the freshly brewed root beer. Further on into town, we discovered a Maypole dance in progress. The pretty women in colorful, authentic German dresses were weaving intricate patterns with their ribbons while sedately and primly stepping to what sounded like polka music. We passed on the horse-drawn carriage ride, but it looked like fun. The chocolate and coffee shop provided us with some great lattes and hand-dipped chocolates. We browsed the General Store for more treats and souvenirs, then ended the May Day at the bakery where we shared some crumbly crispy baked treats.
Had we decided to stay for dinner, we would have feasted on German specialties, such as sauerbraten or weiner schnitzel, with potatoes, sauerkraut, corn and slaw, followed by homemade pie. Most of the large restaurants in the area, such as the Ox Yoke Inn, serve copious quantities of similar food family style. Instead, we took home some locally made Havarti cheese and hard anise candies. The meats made by the local smoke shop are fabulous, as we have found from past experience. We were too full to continue shopping for other food items, so we called it quits and spent the rest of May Day driving back to Des Moines.
I am always fascinated by the history of the Amanas whenever we go there. I am awed by what people will do for their beliefs and way of life. I am grateful for the farsightedness of the Amana town leaders, who have preserved their original buildings and transformed them into a new use while celebrating their heritage. We who are lucky enough to avail ourselves of their industry and cooking prowess find quality meats, cheeses, preserved foods, furniture, clocks, woolens, and crafts much like the local villagers have been making for over one hundred years.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
A September kayak trip on the Upper Iowa River
When our college freshman daughter canceled a September weekend trip home, we decided to seize the last-minute opportunity for one last end-of-summer kayak trip. I did some research and decided that we would head to Northeast Iowa, destination Upper Iowa River. I contacted a few outfitters in the area and heard back from the Chimney Rock Canoe Rental and Campground. We made arrangements for a campsite and shuttle service and loaded up for departure the next day.
The Upper Iowa River runs through the northeastern part of Iowa; Decorah is one of the largest towns in the area. This part of the state was left unmarked by the most recent glacier that scoured and "flattened" the rest of the state into its gently rolling hills. The river is marked by 100 foot tall towering limestone bluffs and "chimney"-like formations. A unique conifer forest, the only one of its kind in the state, inhabits the bluffed banks of the river. The river itself is relatively shallow and alternates between rapid ripples and gentle slow-moving current that moves through the bluffs, low-lying farm fields, and pasture-land. It has been designated one of the country's most scenic waterways by National Geographic.
We packed our mini-van with my kayak inside and my husband's longer kayak on top, well-strapped and trussed for the trip. We loaded our bikes as well, in case the kayaking didn't work out. I threw in what we would need for camping, gathered food for a couple of days, and we were on the road by about 7:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. The morning weather was quite chilly, and at the very last minute I ran back into the house and grabbed a bunch of long sleeved shirts, warm pants and extra jackets. That was an inspired act.
The drive to the Decorah area took about 4 hours. We found the Chimney Rock campground with the help of Google maps and our GPS, and checked in with the people there. This is a laid-back establishment, consisting of a huge campground with a bunch of electric sites and lots of tent sites right on the river. There is a shower house, a bit rough in finished touches, but with electricity, hot running water and flush toilets. They do a huge business during the summer renting out their 76 canoes, some kayaks and lots of inner-tubes. This weekend was a quiet one for them, which explained why we could make last-minute plans. We drove down to the river and found a nice camp spot, parked our van and unloaded the boats and stuff we would need for a river trip. At the last minute we both changed into longer pants and added jackets and long-sleeved shirts, as the temperature was in the 50's with little sun.
Presently, the rattle-trap shuttle van drove by our camp spot, loaded up our boats, and hauled us upriver for about 20 minutes or so. The drive was on gravel roads and through beautiful wooded rolling hills. He deposited us by a rocky embankment near Daley's Bridge, where we loaded up our boats and dragged them down the slope and into the water. It was a beautiful trip, and we navigated the small "white" water sections and twists and turns without difficulty. We floated and paddled for about two hours and arrived at the campground, right across from the chimney-like rock formations. We got out of the boats for a bit, and I drove up to the office to let them know that we would be continuing on for the next leg of the trip, something we weren't sure about doing when we first left. They told us where to get out downriver where they would meet us in about another two hours. The next leg of the trip was even more impressive, with more limestone bluffs and heavily wooded banks. We found the take-out spot without any trouble and waited about 10 minutes for the van to come pick us up and take us back to the campground.
Back at camp, we sat in the van for awhile so my feet could warm up. We normally wear rubber sandals and shorts, but we have only ever boated in summer weather. My husband stayed warm enough, but I was fairly chilled, even with longer pants and a jacket. Eventually I thawed out, and we set up the tent (which went quickly and easily) and got a fire going. I put together some pocket stews for dinner, plus some peaches which I cut up and put brown sugar on, wrapped in foil, and baked in the coals with the stews. We warmed up with some hot chocolate while waiting for dinner to cook, then enjoyed the delicious food as the sun started going down. We sat huddled around the fire for awhile, just relaxing and talking and trying to stay warm, then turned in for the night. We were kind of concerned that we would be cold and expected we'd be crawling in the van by midnight, but even though it got down in the mid 40's we stayed quite toasty with sleeping bags, a couple of blankets, and warm sleeping clothes.
In the morning we had a nice hot breakfast of blueberry pancakes, bacon and hot coffee. I bundled up a bit more for the day, as it was just as cool and cloudy as the previous day. I also put on some ankle-height rubber boot-shoes I had brought along for a possibly muddy campground, and those kept my feet quite toasty even when I had to step into the water to get in and out of my boat. The shuttle took us a little farther upriver, where we put in at a spot that would take about 4 hours to get back to camp. The first two hours were gorgeous, even more than the first day it seemed, and we took our time this time. We had met some expert kayakers the day before and gotten all kinds of tips about places to go in Iowa, plus observed that they spent a fair amount of time not paddling and just looking around and floating. So we applied their example, and stopped many times to inspect the flora, fauna and geography along the river bank. We found a bunch of fossil rocks, marveled at the cliff swallow nests seemingly glued to the side of the bluffs, and saw a turtle, kingfishers, osprey, and dozens of trout which would jump out of the water just ahead of us. The tree colors seemed to change as we floated along, and the air had a distinctly autumn feel to it. At one point, we got a kick out of watching a herd of cows crossing the river from one pasture to another. They were loud and splashed a lot. The cow mess in that area was not very attractive, but otherwise the water along most of the trip was clear and we could see the rocky and sandy bottom.
For the last two hours of the journey, it was the same as the first two we had completed the day before, which gave us even more opportunity to take our time and explore and enjoy. We ended up back at the campground around 2 pm, in time to eat some lunch, have a rest, then break camp and load everything back into the van. We got on the road around 5 pm, stopped in Clear Lake for a fast-food dinner, and were home around 9 pm. While we had been gone, it had rained 2 1/2 inches in the Des Moines area; we were a bit smug that we had avoided the nasty rainy weather. Even though it had been cloudy and chilly, we had not a drop of the wet stuff, the killer of camping trips and ruiner of all things outdoors. Chalk one up for another weekend of summer fun.
The Upper Iowa River runs through the northeastern part of Iowa; Decorah is one of the largest towns in the area. This part of the state was left unmarked by the most recent glacier that scoured and "flattened" the rest of the state into its gently rolling hills. The river is marked by 100 foot tall towering limestone bluffs and "chimney"-like formations. A unique conifer forest, the only one of its kind in the state, inhabits the bluffed banks of the river. The river itself is relatively shallow and alternates between rapid ripples and gentle slow-moving current that moves through the bluffs, low-lying farm fields, and pasture-land. It has been designated one of the country's most scenic waterways by National Geographic.
We packed our mini-van with my kayak inside and my husband's longer kayak on top, well-strapped and trussed for the trip. We loaded our bikes as well, in case the kayaking didn't work out. I threw in what we would need for camping, gathered food for a couple of days, and we were on the road by about 7:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. The morning weather was quite chilly, and at the very last minute I ran back into the house and grabbed a bunch of long sleeved shirts, warm pants and extra jackets. That was an inspired act.
The drive to the Decorah area took about 4 hours. We found the Chimney Rock campground with the help of Google maps and our GPS, and checked in with the people there. This is a laid-back establishment, consisting of a huge campground with a bunch of electric sites and lots of tent sites right on the river. There is a shower house, a bit rough in finished touches, but with electricity, hot running water and flush toilets. They do a huge business during the summer renting out their 76 canoes, some kayaks and lots of inner-tubes. This weekend was a quiet one for them, which explained why we could make last-minute plans. We drove down to the river and found a nice camp spot, parked our van and unloaded the boats and stuff we would need for a river trip. At the last minute we both changed into longer pants and added jackets and long-sleeved shirts, as the temperature was in the 50's with little sun.
Presently, the rattle-trap shuttle van drove by our camp spot, loaded up our boats, and hauled us upriver for about 20 minutes or so. The drive was on gravel roads and through beautiful wooded rolling hills. He deposited us by a rocky embankment near Daley's Bridge, where we loaded up our boats and dragged them down the slope and into the water. It was a beautiful trip, and we navigated the small "white" water sections and twists and turns without difficulty. We floated and paddled for about two hours and arrived at the campground, right across from the chimney-like rock formations. We got out of the boats for a bit, and I drove up to the office to let them know that we would be continuing on for the next leg of the trip, something we weren't sure about doing when we first left. They told us where to get out downriver where they would meet us in about another two hours. The next leg of the trip was even more impressive, with more limestone bluffs and heavily wooded banks. We found the take-out spot without any trouble and waited about 10 minutes for the van to come pick us up and take us back to the campground.
Back at camp, we sat in the van for awhile so my feet could warm up. We normally wear rubber sandals and shorts, but we have only ever boated in summer weather. My husband stayed warm enough, but I was fairly chilled, even with longer pants and a jacket. Eventually I thawed out, and we set up the tent (which went quickly and easily) and got a fire going. I put together some pocket stews for dinner, plus some peaches which I cut up and put brown sugar on, wrapped in foil, and baked in the coals with the stews. We warmed up with some hot chocolate while waiting for dinner to cook, then enjoyed the delicious food as the sun started going down. We sat huddled around the fire for awhile, just relaxing and talking and trying to stay warm, then turned in for the night. We were kind of concerned that we would be cold and expected we'd be crawling in the van by midnight, but even though it got down in the mid 40's we stayed quite toasty with sleeping bags, a couple of blankets, and warm sleeping clothes.
In the morning we had a nice hot breakfast of blueberry pancakes, bacon and hot coffee. I bundled up a bit more for the day, as it was just as cool and cloudy as the previous day. I also put on some ankle-height rubber boot-shoes I had brought along for a possibly muddy campground, and those kept my feet quite toasty even when I had to step into the water to get in and out of my boat. The shuttle took us a little farther upriver, where we put in at a spot that would take about 4 hours to get back to camp. The first two hours were gorgeous, even more than the first day it seemed, and we took our time this time. We had met some expert kayakers the day before and gotten all kinds of tips about places to go in Iowa, plus observed that they spent a fair amount of time not paddling and just looking around and floating. So we applied their example, and stopped many times to inspect the flora, fauna and geography along the river bank. We found a bunch of fossil rocks, marveled at the cliff swallow nests seemingly glued to the side of the bluffs, and saw a turtle, kingfishers, osprey, and dozens of trout which would jump out of the water just ahead of us. The tree colors seemed to change as we floated along, and the air had a distinctly autumn feel to it. At one point, we got a kick out of watching a herd of cows crossing the river from one pasture to another. They were loud and splashed a lot. The cow mess in that area was not very attractive, but otherwise the water along most of the trip was clear and we could see the rocky and sandy bottom.
For the last two hours of the journey, it was the same as the first two we had completed the day before, which gave us even more opportunity to take our time and explore and enjoy. We ended up back at the campground around 2 pm, in time to eat some lunch, have a rest, then break camp and load everything back into the van. We got on the road around 5 pm, stopped in Clear Lake for a fast-food dinner, and were home around 9 pm. While we had been gone, it had rained 2 1/2 inches in the Des Moines area; we were a bit smug that we had avoided the nasty rainy weather. Even though it had been cloudy and chilly, we had not a drop of the wet stuff, the killer of camping trips and ruiner of all things outdoors. Chalk one up for another weekend of summer fun.
Omaha's Magnolia Hotel
It had been awhile since we had needed to stay overnight in Omaha, Nebraska. Most of our trips to visit our son are simple day jaunts, with a two hour trip from Des Moines in the morning, some kind of Omaha fun in the afternoon, dinner at a good restaurant, and a return drive home in the later evening. He lives in a loft in the Old Market area, which does not accommodate old parents, so we simplify things by just driving home. But the invitation to spend the Easter weekend with him was too good to pass up, so we made arrangements to stay at a hotel on his recommendation. He had been inside the lobby and restaurant area of the fairly new Magnolia Hotel (www.magnoliahotels.com) in downtown Omaha and thought it looked cool. When I checked out the website, I was impressed by the reasonable prices and the boutique look of the place.
We arrived in Omaha in the early afternoon, in time to join him for lunch at a small local place called Q Consumables on the south side of town. It was a lovely and filling lunch (Bananas Foster French toast), which we followed by a short nap at his apartment. We decided to inform and entertain ourselves by taking in a documentary about New York Times fashion photographer Bill Cunningham at the Filmstreams independent movie theater, near the huge QWest Center. Then it was time to eat again---we celebrated his recently acquired new job with a fabulous dinner at The BoilerRoom restaurant in the Old Market area, within strolling distance of his apartment. Finally it was time for us to turn in at the Magnolia Hotel.
The hotel is in the old Aquila Court building at 1615 Howard Street, near the Orpheum Theater. The motif is, guess----magnolias! There was a very subtle scent of the heady blossom in the lobby, the light fixtures resembled the flower and the decor evoked the lush and gracious feel of its southern origin. We found our room to be clean, comfortable and completely adequate. The furniture was dark modern wood, with sleek lighting and marble and tile fixtures in the bathroom. Being an old building, the ceilings were high and the windows were large and airy. We had a most comfortable night, followed by a light complimentary breakfast with both hot and cold selections in the restaurant/lounge area of the lobby. For an additional fee we could have had a custom created omelette, which we didn't as we were still full from the bacchanalian feast we had enjoyed at the BoilerRoom. We explored the lobby on our way out and found a huge ballroom connected by an atrium to an outdoor tiled courtyard strung with lights and obviously meant to accommodate large parties. We decided it would be a gorgeous place for a wedding reception or other special occasion.
The rest of our day was taken up by an Easter morning church service and a wonderful brunch served by our son's girlfriend at her adorable house in an older part of Omaha. Though we both lived in the area for a number of years, we always feel we discover something new on our jaunts there. It is wonderful to have a local guide who knows all the best places to eat and relax and be entertained.
We arrived in Omaha in the early afternoon, in time to join him for lunch at a small local place called Q Consumables on the south side of town. It was a lovely and filling lunch (Bananas Foster French toast), which we followed by a short nap at his apartment. We decided to inform and entertain ourselves by taking in a documentary about New York Times fashion photographer Bill Cunningham at the Filmstreams independent movie theater, near the huge QWest Center. Then it was time to eat again---we celebrated his recently acquired new job with a fabulous dinner at The BoilerRoom restaurant in the Old Market area, within strolling distance of his apartment. Finally it was time for us to turn in at the Magnolia Hotel.
The hotel is in the old Aquila Court building at 1615 Howard Street, near the Orpheum Theater. The motif is, guess----magnolias! There was a very subtle scent of the heady blossom in the lobby, the light fixtures resembled the flower and the decor evoked the lush and gracious feel of its southern origin. We found our room to be clean, comfortable and completely adequate. The furniture was dark modern wood, with sleek lighting and marble and tile fixtures in the bathroom. Being an old building, the ceilings were high and the windows were large and airy. We had a most comfortable night, followed by a light complimentary breakfast with both hot and cold selections in the restaurant/lounge area of the lobby. For an additional fee we could have had a custom created omelette, which we didn't as we were still full from the bacchanalian feast we had enjoyed at the BoilerRoom. We explored the lobby on our way out and found a huge ballroom connected by an atrium to an outdoor tiled courtyard strung with lights and obviously meant to accommodate large parties. We decided it would be a gorgeous place for a wedding reception or other special occasion.
The rest of our day was taken up by an Easter morning church service and a wonderful brunch served by our son's girlfriend at her adorable house in an older part of Omaha. Though we both lived in the area for a number of years, we always feel we discover something new on our jaunts there. It is wonderful to have a local guide who knows all the best places to eat and relax and be entertained.
Iowa City's Brown Street Inn
With two daughters at the University of Iowa, both involved in performing arts and affording multiple opportunities each semester for spectating, we decided we should find a place more inspiring than the Baymont Inn to stay when performances necessitated an overnight. Most luckily for us, we found The Brown Street Inn. www.brownstreetinn.com
A word about Iowa City accommodations: they are probably the most expensive and difficult to acquire in the entire state. Iowa City, being a rather small city hosting a huge university, has an extraordinary burden to provide places to stay for parents of students at such university events as orientation, parent weekends, performances and graduation. In addition, the population swells an additional 50,000 or so on Hawkeye football game weekends. Most hotels double their prices on game weekends, require at least a two night stay, and are booked months to a year in advance. That said, we have avoided such mega-weekends whenever possible. Since we live only two hours away, if we must be in town during one of those population booms, we usually just return home after the event.
When choir and dance concerts or opera performances are scheduled in the evening, and last several hours, and the weather is iffy, and we want to spend some time with our daughters, we try to stay overnight in town. Our go-to place now is the restored and beautifully appointed 1913 gambrel cottage style mansion in the Brown Street Historical District of Iowa City. There are 5 spotlessly clean queen or king bed rooms on the second floor and a two room suite on the third floor, all with private bathrooms, beautiful bedding and comfortable chairs, desks and lamps for reading. We have stayed in four of the six rooms, and have not been disappointed by a single one. The Red room accommodates a third person on a pull-out sofa, and the suite (which we have not stayed in) can hold a couple of roll-aways for a third and fourth person. The main floor is richly and elegantly decorated, with two separate dining rooms, a living room with fireplace, and a wide front porch that overlooks an expansive lawn to the cobbled street. Parking is in a free private lot, which is a big deal in congested Iowa City.
As appealing as the accommodations are, however, what keeps us coming back are the innkeepers, Mark and Bob. By now they know us, and have met all three of our kids and assorted friends. They are welcoming at check in, leave you to your devices for the evening, then serve the most delicious breakfast with interesting conversation and helpful information about the area. What we have most appreciated is their willingness to allow our student daughters to join us for breakfast at the Inn, for a small $10 fee per person, rather than us having to eat there first then go find a place to take the girls out later in the morning. It has allowed us a time to visit with them in a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere before our return home.
And then there is the breakfast---what a feast! During the week, a lighter continental fare is available, probably consisting of baked goods and beverages. We have only stayed on a weekend, when full hot breakfasts are served, such as blueberry stuffed French toast with ham, vegetarian egg omelettes with sausage, fresh fruit, bagels, apple cake, artisan bread toast, juice and coffee. A breakfast there carries us well into the afternoon, and satisfies the dorm cafeteria-weary students in the crowd.
The Baymont Inn also serves breakfast, but you know what that is. So we have decided that whenever possible, we will pay the $15.00 more for a room at the Inn and feel pampered and welcomed by friends.
A word about Iowa City accommodations: they are probably the most expensive and difficult to acquire in the entire state. Iowa City, being a rather small city hosting a huge university, has an extraordinary burden to provide places to stay for parents of students at such university events as orientation, parent weekends, performances and graduation. In addition, the population swells an additional 50,000 or so on Hawkeye football game weekends. Most hotels double their prices on game weekends, require at least a two night stay, and are booked months to a year in advance. That said, we have avoided such mega-weekends whenever possible. Since we live only two hours away, if we must be in town during one of those population booms, we usually just return home after the event.
When choir and dance concerts or opera performances are scheduled in the evening, and last several hours, and the weather is iffy, and we want to spend some time with our daughters, we try to stay overnight in town. Our go-to place now is the restored and beautifully appointed 1913 gambrel cottage style mansion in the Brown Street Historical District of Iowa City. There are 5 spotlessly clean queen or king bed rooms on the second floor and a two room suite on the third floor, all with private bathrooms, beautiful bedding and comfortable chairs, desks and lamps for reading. We have stayed in four of the six rooms, and have not been disappointed by a single one. The Red room accommodates a third person on a pull-out sofa, and the suite (which we have not stayed in) can hold a couple of roll-aways for a third and fourth person. The main floor is richly and elegantly decorated, with two separate dining rooms, a living room with fireplace, and a wide front porch that overlooks an expansive lawn to the cobbled street. Parking is in a free private lot, which is a big deal in congested Iowa City.
As appealing as the accommodations are, however, what keeps us coming back are the innkeepers, Mark and Bob. By now they know us, and have met all three of our kids and assorted friends. They are welcoming at check in, leave you to your devices for the evening, then serve the most delicious breakfast with interesting conversation and helpful information about the area. What we have most appreciated is their willingness to allow our student daughters to join us for breakfast at the Inn, for a small $10 fee per person, rather than us having to eat there first then go find a place to take the girls out later in the morning. It has allowed us a time to visit with them in a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere before our return home.
And then there is the breakfast---what a feast! During the week, a lighter continental fare is available, probably consisting of baked goods and beverages. We have only stayed on a weekend, when full hot breakfasts are served, such as blueberry stuffed French toast with ham, vegetarian egg omelettes with sausage, fresh fruit, bagels, apple cake, artisan bread toast, juice and coffee. A breakfast there carries us well into the afternoon, and satisfies the dorm cafeteria-weary students in the crowd.
The Baymont Inn also serves breakfast, but you know what that is. So we have decided that whenever possible, we will pay the $15.00 more for a room at the Inn and feel pampered and welcomed by friends.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Trip Canceled
It was described as the largest worldwide disruption of air travel ever. It exceeded the disruption after 9/11 and eventually of World War II. An entire 6 days of no air travel anywhere over Europe and the UK.
All week we listened to the news about the impossible-to-pronounce Icelandic Volcano that was spewing ash and had caused airspace over Europe and the UK to be closed. Reportedly, volcanic ash is nearly invisible on airplane radar, and when inhaled by jet engines, causes working parts to fuse into glass and stalls engines. We figured, surely, by the time we were to fly about 6 days later, the cloud would have blown over and with it the concerns about air travel.
We were wrong.
We sweated it out, hanging on news reports, wondering if our trip would go or not. We decided on Monday night, April 19th, that we had better go ahead and pack, as it looked like things might start opening back up by our scheduled departure time on Tuesday afternoon, the 20th. Just in case.
Jim searched the internet all day Tuesday for any news of canceled flights or opening airports. Some airports were starting to open by Tuesday morning, and there was a general consensus in the media that perhaps the closures were an overreaction. About 4 pm, he finally got word, from a website called FlightStats, that our flight out of Chicago to London that evening was canceled.
About 10 minutes before I heard from him, the British announced they were re-opening their airspace and would begin gradually restoring flights. What lousy, rotten timing.
After checking various websites for possible rebookings and determining it would be 1) impossible to get a seat and 2) ridiculously expensive even if we could, I sadly admitted to myself that we would not be making the trip we had so looked forward to. Shortly after that admission, a very nice lady from Orbitz called to make sure we had received notice of the canceled flight, and to find out from us whether the airline would be refunding our money (they will be). She explained that the airlines would take awhile to get all sorted out and that even though the airspace was open, planes and crews were displaced and airlines couldn't make their usual runs. Besides the airline disorganization, there were nearly half a million people waiting to make it home, people who had been sitting in airports or hotels for 6 days waiting for flights. Ground transportation was chaotic as well, trying to move people from place to place in lieu of air travel.
A canceled trip is a colossal disappointment. Ever since the day we were to have left, I have been thinking what we should have been doing instead.
A synopsis: Our 17 year old daughter, Jessica, left on April 11 for London to spend two weeks rehearsing with her music group Moda. On April 20, we were to fly to London to be there in time to see the group showcase their music for three record companies in hopes of getting a contract offer. Our 20 year old daughter, Jenny, who is studying at Leiden University, the Netherlands for the semester, was scheduled to take the Eurostar train to London in time for the performances. After Jessica was done with her singing obligations, we were all to travel together back to Leiden to spend time with Jenny in her temporary home. I was looking forward to celebrating my 50th birthday on April 21 in London. A wonderful time to be had by all, enjoying some quality family time together, celebrating with our daughters.
In anticipation of our absence on the actual birthday, my sister and husband, and my parents had gone to great lengths to travel to our house ahead of time to be here for a pre-birthday celebration. We had a lovely time with cake, presents and time together, then everyone left by the Tuesday of our scheduled departure.
Jenny made it to London, on a very crowded train, in time to be the family support for Jessica. Jim and I tried to get an idea of the show on a poor Skype connection. On my actual birthday, I went to work in the morning as usual, took Panera home for lunch, then went out with Jim for dinner at my favorite restaurant Mojo's. The girls made it safely via train from London to Leiden on the 24th, and are now having some quality sister time, sans parents, jaunting about the Netherlands. Jessica will return alone to Des Moines via a complicated cobbling of train and plane connections, sans parents again, on Wednesday the 28th.
Meanwhile, Jim and I are inventing things to do in our unexpected calendar emptiness. It's hard to be entertained by the usually fun things we find to do when we would rather be somewhere else.
Since the airspace has opened, the volcano has continued spewing, but it's hardly making the news. The panic over the volcanic ash cloud is over, a freakish coincidence of geological time and our tiny plans. Many other peoples' lives were much more disrupted than ours. I tell myself that at least we weren't stuck in an airport somewhere and missing the shows, spending money on airport food, missing work and fun at the same time.
Since I'm basically an optimistic person, I must find some sort of silver lining in the volcanic ash cloud.
But it has been difficult this time.
All week we listened to the news about the impossible-to-pronounce Icelandic Volcano that was spewing ash and had caused airspace over Europe and the UK to be closed. Reportedly, volcanic ash is nearly invisible on airplane radar, and when inhaled by jet engines, causes working parts to fuse into glass and stalls engines. We figured, surely, by the time we were to fly about 6 days later, the cloud would have blown over and with it the concerns about air travel.
We were wrong.
We sweated it out, hanging on news reports, wondering if our trip would go or not. We decided on Monday night, April 19th, that we had better go ahead and pack, as it looked like things might start opening back up by our scheduled departure time on Tuesday afternoon, the 20th. Just in case.
Jim searched the internet all day Tuesday for any news of canceled flights or opening airports. Some airports were starting to open by Tuesday morning, and there was a general consensus in the media that perhaps the closures were an overreaction. About 4 pm, he finally got word, from a website called FlightStats, that our flight out of Chicago to London that evening was canceled.
About 10 minutes before I heard from him, the British announced they were re-opening their airspace and would begin gradually restoring flights. What lousy, rotten timing.
After checking various websites for possible rebookings and determining it would be 1) impossible to get a seat and 2) ridiculously expensive even if we could, I sadly admitted to myself that we would not be making the trip we had so looked forward to. Shortly after that admission, a very nice lady from Orbitz called to make sure we had received notice of the canceled flight, and to find out from us whether the airline would be refunding our money (they will be). She explained that the airlines would take awhile to get all sorted out and that even though the airspace was open, planes and crews were displaced and airlines couldn't make their usual runs. Besides the airline disorganization, there were nearly half a million people waiting to make it home, people who had been sitting in airports or hotels for 6 days waiting for flights. Ground transportation was chaotic as well, trying to move people from place to place in lieu of air travel.
A canceled trip is a colossal disappointment. Ever since the day we were to have left, I have been thinking what we should have been doing instead.
A synopsis: Our 17 year old daughter, Jessica, left on April 11 for London to spend two weeks rehearsing with her music group Moda. On April 20, we were to fly to London to be there in time to see the group showcase their music for three record companies in hopes of getting a contract offer. Our 20 year old daughter, Jenny, who is studying at Leiden University, the Netherlands for the semester, was scheduled to take the Eurostar train to London in time for the performances. After Jessica was done with her singing obligations, we were all to travel together back to Leiden to spend time with Jenny in her temporary home. I was looking forward to celebrating my 50th birthday on April 21 in London. A wonderful time to be had by all, enjoying some quality family time together, celebrating with our daughters.
In anticipation of our absence on the actual birthday, my sister and husband, and my parents had gone to great lengths to travel to our house ahead of time to be here for a pre-birthday celebration. We had a lovely time with cake, presents and time together, then everyone left by the Tuesday of our scheduled departure.
Jenny made it to London, on a very crowded train, in time to be the family support for Jessica. Jim and I tried to get an idea of the show on a poor Skype connection. On my actual birthday, I went to work in the morning as usual, took Panera home for lunch, then went out with Jim for dinner at my favorite restaurant Mojo's. The girls made it safely via train from London to Leiden on the 24th, and are now having some quality sister time, sans parents, jaunting about the Netherlands. Jessica will return alone to Des Moines via a complicated cobbling of train and plane connections, sans parents again, on Wednesday the 28th.
Meanwhile, Jim and I are inventing things to do in our unexpected calendar emptiness. It's hard to be entertained by the usually fun things we find to do when we would rather be somewhere else.
Since the airspace has opened, the volcano has continued spewing, but it's hardly making the news. The panic over the volcanic ash cloud is over, a freakish coincidence of geological time and our tiny plans. Many other peoples' lives were much more disrupted than ours. I tell myself that at least we weren't stuck in an airport somewhere and missing the shows, spending money on airport food, missing work and fun at the same time.
Since I'm basically an optimistic person, I must find some sort of silver lining in the volcanic ash cloud.
But it has been difficult this time.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Planes, Trains, Subways, Buses, Taxis and Oh My Aching Feet!
As fun and exhilarating as it is to go to new lands and see new sights and experience new cultures, I must say that the mere act of “Traveling” is a chore. In the last three weeks, I will have been on 4 transatlantic flights, 2 intra-continental flights, numerous above-ground trains, several buses, taxis and shuttles, and dozens of subways. And my feet, oh my feet, how they have walked and walked.
Some general rules of thumb for making the Traveling easier: Pack light, don't be in a hurry, plan ahead, keep your eyes open, have a really good map with you, and don't be afraid to ask for help. I have found ticket office people and even fellow passengers to be most helpful for the befuddled and confused tourist willing to smile and ask how to proceed.
That said, I am glad that my initiation into international travel involved countries where English is the primary or secondary language. We Americans don't have to try as hard as other people because English is so prevalent all over the world. Still, being in a place like London, and then in the Netherlands, it is much easier to navigate when signs are in English and people all around are speaking English—or can switch to English from Dutch without missing a beat.
Transatlantic plane travel is tedious. There are so many restrictions to luggage weight and type, to carry-on items, to all the security checks, that by the time you actually get on the plane, it's a relief just to sit and watch the bad TV and videos that are streamed to each seat screen. Travel by plane between European airports---in this case London Heathrow to Amsterdam Schiphol---was a piece of cake, being an hour long flight and seemingly fewer security checks. Still, those airports are huge and I regretted the heavy small bags I had to lug through each one. The best advice for the within-airport trek is to have all luggage on wheels.
Europe is far ahead of America in the development of train travel. The trains that I rode on were generally clean, comfortable and readily available with good connections. The express train that runs from Heathrow airport to the center of London deposited me within 15 minutes to a station a mere block from my hotel. I rode several times on aboveground trains to outer parts of London; they were quicker than a taxi through that part of town. The trains running between Amsterdam and Leiden were clean and efficient---except for the one that stopped 5 minutes out from the station, sat on the tracks for 45 minutes, then headed back to the station, citing technical difficulties. All of the hundreds of passengers were off-loaded and sent down and up stairs to a new platform to crowd onto another train. I also failed to understand the signage at the platform at the station in Leiden and took an unplanned detour through the station at Haarlem, changed to a different train, and changed again in order to arrive at the airport ---what should have been a simple on-off 20 minute trip turned into an hour long trip with miles of walking around train stations.
Subways, or the Tube, are by far the most efficient way to travel in Central London. Provided you understand the transfer process and can figure out the closest station to your destination, it is easy and generally quick. Trains run regularly without excessive delays. The hardest work involved with the subway is the endless walking underground during transfers from one line to another. The Underground engineering works do have the annoying habit of closing certain lines on the weekends, so it is crucial to keep a map handy and always have an alternate route in mind.
The iconic Big Red Bus in London is a must-ride at least a couple of times. However, this is not nearly as easy for the unfamiliar tourist to figure out. You have to know streets and intersections to know which bus to get on and then where to get off. Tickets are not sold on the bus, so unless you have the Oyster card, an electronic pass card, you can't ride just any bus. In Amsterdam, we discovered the tram, which allows payment on-board and runs between major parts of the city quickly and efficiently. The Stop-and-Go is a small shuttle which will allow you to get on and off anywhere along the Prinsengracht Canal for one Euro.
I love the British taxi. Drivers can get you anywhere you want to go, but for a pretty sum. They are comfortable and can do a U-turn in the middle of a street without hitting a curb. Riding in a taxi is also a must-do, as it is shocking to see all the cars driving on the wrong side of the street and the drivers steering from the wrong side of the front seat. The best time to take a taxi is when you need to get to a hard-to-find destination and your feet are very tired.
Walking is a given in a huge city like London. You will walk to a station, between stations, to your destination, and back to the station. If you don't know your exact route through habit or familiarity, you must have a good map with you. Even then, you must keep your eyes open, watch street signs, beware of traffic coming at you from the wrong direction, and dress for the weather. One of the difficulties for the tourist is to know which direction you are headed. When you emerge from a subway station, you are not oriented and have no idea on which corner of a given intersection you have been dumped. Then you may find yourself walking your tired body around in circles and back.
For a city the size of London (14 million people) mass transit is the only way it can function. In fact, private cars pay 8 pounds a day to drive within the “congestion” zone of central London. By making this so expensive, traffic is reduced and people are forced to ride buses, subways or take a taxi. Or walk.
My little drive to work each day, originating in my garage mere steps from my house, and depositing me in a school parking lot a few yards from the front door, is laughably easy.
Some general rules of thumb for making the Traveling easier: Pack light, don't be in a hurry, plan ahead, keep your eyes open, have a really good map with you, and don't be afraid to ask for help. I have found ticket office people and even fellow passengers to be most helpful for the befuddled and confused tourist willing to smile and ask how to proceed.
That said, I am glad that my initiation into international travel involved countries where English is the primary or secondary language. We Americans don't have to try as hard as other people because English is so prevalent all over the world. Still, being in a place like London, and then in the Netherlands, it is much easier to navigate when signs are in English and people all around are speaking English—or can switch to English from Dutch without missing a beat.
Transatlantic plane travel is tedious. There are so many restrictions to luggage weight and type, to carry-on items, to all the security checks, that by the time you actually get on the plane, it's a relief just to sit and watch the bad TV and videos that are streamed to each seat screen. Travel by plane between European airports---in this case London Heathrow to Amsterdam Schiphol---was a piece of cake, being an hour long flight and seemingly fewer security checks. Still, those airports are huge and I regretted the heavy small bags I had to lug through each one. The best advice for the within-airport trek is to have all luggage on wheels.
Europe is far ahead of America in the development of train travel. The trains that I rode on were generally clean, comfortable and readily available with good connections. The express train that runs from Heathrow airport to the center of London deposited me within 15 minutes to a station a mere block from my hotel. I rode several times on aboveground trains to outer parts of London; they were quicker than a taxi through that part of town. The trains running between Amsterdam and Leiden were clean and efficient---except for the one that stopped 5 minutes out from the station, sat on the tracks for 45 minutes, then headed back to the station, citing technical difficulties. All of the hundreds of passengers were off-loaded and sent down and up stairs to a new platform to crowd onto another train. I also failed to understand the signage at the platform at the station in Leiden and took an unplanned detour through the station at Haarlem, changed to a different train, and changed again in order to arrive at the airport ---what should have been a simple on-off 20 minute trip turned into an hour long trip with miles of walking around train stations.
Subways, or the Tube, are by far the most efficient way to travel in Central London. Provided you understand the transfer process and can figure out the closest station to your destination, it is easy and generally quick. Trains run regularly without excessive delays. The hardest work involved with the subway is the endless walking underground during transfers from one line to another. The Underground engineering works do have the annoying habit of closing certain lines on the weekends, so it is crucial to keep a map handy and always have an alternate route in mind.
The iconic Big Red Bus in London is a must-ride at least a couple of times. However, this is not nearly as easy for the unfamiliar tourist to figure out. You have to know streets and intersections to know which bus to get on and then where to get off. Tickets are not sold on the bus, so unless you have the Oyster card, an electronic pass card, you can't ride just any bus. In Amsterdam, we discovered the tram, which allows payment on-board and runs between major parts of the city quickly and efficiently. The Stop-and-Go is a small shuttle which will allow you to get on and off anywhere along the Prinsengracht Canal for one Euro.
I love the British taxi. Drivers can get you anywhere you want to go, but for a pretty sum. They are comfortable and can do a U-turn in the middle of a street without hitting a curb. Riding in a taxi is also a must-do, as it is shocking to see all the cars driving on the wrong side of the street and the drivers steering from the wrong side of the front seat. The best time to take a taxi is when you need to get to a hard-to-find destination and your feet are very tired.
Walking is a given in a huge city like London. You will walk to a station, between stations, to your destination, and back to the station. If you don't know your exact route through habit or familiarity, you must have a good map with you. Even then, you must keep your eyes open, watch street signs, beware of traffic coming at you from the wrong direction, and dress for the weather. One of the difficulties for the tourist is to know which direction you are headed. When you emerge from a subway station, you are not oriented and have no idea on which corner of a given intersection you have been dumped. Then you may find yourself walking your tired body around in circles and back.
For a city the size of London (14 million people) mass transit is the only way it can function. In fact, private cars pay 8 pounds a day to drive within the “congestion” zone of central London. By making this so expensive, traffic is reduced and people are forced to ride buses, subways or take a taxi. Or walk.
My little drive to work each day, originating in my garage mere steps from my house, and depositing me in a school parking lot a few yards from the front door, is laughably easy.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tasty Travels
One of the responsibilities of traveling is to properly experience local cuisine. I take this responsibility seriously, inasmuch as my budget will permit. In London, it is difficult to determine what is really local cuisine. The British cuisine has been much maligned, and in the past probably for good reason. The traditional English breakfast consists of eggs with white toast, topped with baked beans, a tomato, sausages, bacon---a cholesterol nightmare. Fish and Chips is a grease fest. And what is in a Meat Pie?
During my London visits, I have had more Middle-Eastern food than Traditional British. Part of the reason for that is the area where we have stayed has a lot of Middle-Eastern tourists and residents. The food is tasty and relatively healthful. More British perhaps are the interesting sandwiches available in take-away delis, in such combinations as Egg and Cress, Bacon-Lettuce-Tomato, Chicken with Bacon, Cheddar with a sweet red pickle sauce or caramelized onion. The pubs serve the most traditional food, such things as beef stroganoff, shepherd's pie---great comfort food. Otherwise, the restaurants on the streets are a virtual United Nations of Cuisine. Indian, Lebanese, Italian, Mediterranean, Thai, Chinese---the diner can travel anywhere in the world for dinner.
A mandatory experience for a visit to Britain is partaking of Afternoon Tea. This is designed to bridge the gap between late breakfast and dinner. It is best taken in a classy, refined atmosphere with white tablecloths and attentive waiters. The traditional menu consists of an array of crustless thin-bread “finger” sandwiches with such fillings as smoked salmon, egg and cress, cheese with pickle, ham and cheese. Second course is a tender raisin scone, best eaten with dollops of clotted cream and jam on each flaky bite. The final course is an assortment of fruit tarts, chocolate cake bites, and cream puffs or eclairs. The tea is the anchor for the meal---brewed and kept hot in a small pot and served with generous pours of milk and brown sugar chunks. If you actually need dinner after this repast, it should be heavy on protein and low on carbs.
In the Netherlands, traditional Dutch fare is more easily identifiable. Anything cheesy or baked with fruit is most likely Dutch, such as Appel Tart, or Appelflap, as well as chocolate and interesting anise-flavored candies, almond-rich cookies, Stroopwaffles (a waffle sandwich cookie with a gooey, chewy center). The bread is dark and soft with deep flavor. The surprise for me was Indonesian Fusion---which results from the era when the Dutch colonized Indonesia and imported those rich, spicy flavors into the Dutch/Indonesian Rice Table. Think of this as tapas with an island flair.
The marvel for me was the Dutch coffee and hot chocolate. Another benefit of colonialization, the coffee is reputed to be the best in the world. The several cups I had bore that statement out---how can a coffee be so rich that it has a crema normally only present on an espresso? The hot chocolate is so rich, served with whipped cream and a spoon, that it served as a stand-alone dessert.
As much as I delight in other cuisines, I am happy to return to my kitchen where I can create my own “local” concoctions of the fresh ingredients from my state, flavored and influenced by tastes of far away lands.
During my London visits, I have had more Middle-Eastern food than Traditional British. Part of the reason for that is the area where we have stayed has a lot of Middle-Eastern tourists and residents. The food is tasty and relatively healthful. More British perhaps are the interesting sandwiches available in take-away delis, in such combinations as Egg and Cress, Bacon-Lettuce-Tomato, Chicken with Bacon, Cheddar with a sweet red pickle sauce or caramelized onion. The pubs serve the most traditional food, such things as beef stroganoff, shepherd's pie---great comfort food. Otherwise, the restaurants on the streets are a virtual United Nations of Cuisine. Indian, Lebanese, Italian, Mediterranean, Thai, Chinese---the diner can travel anywhere in the world for dinner.
A mandatory experience for a visit to Britain is partaking of Afternoon Tea. This is designed to bridge the gap between late breakfast and dinner. It is best taken in a classy, refined atmosphere with white tablecloths and attentive waiters. The traditional menu consists of an array of crustless thin-bread “finger” sandwiches with such fillings as smoked salmon, egg and cress, cheese with pickle, ham and cheese. Second course is a tender raisin scone, best eaten with dollops of clotted cream and jam on each flaky bite. The final course is an assortment of fruit tarts, chocolate cake bites, and cream puffs or eclairs. The tea is the anchor for the meal---brewed and kept hot in a small pot and served with generous pours of milk and brown sugar chunks. If you actually need dinner after this repast, it should be heavy on protein and low on carbs.
In the Netherlands, traditional Dutch fare is more easily identifiable. Anything cheesy or baked with fruit is most likely Dutch, such as Appel Tart, or Appelflap, as well as chocolate and interesting anise-flavored candies, almond-rich cookies, Stroopwaffles (a waffle sandwich cookie with a gooey, chewy center). The bread is dark and soft with deep flavor. The surprise for me was Indonesian Fusion---which results from the era when the Dutch colonized Indonesia and imported those rich, spicy flavors into the Dutch/Indonesian Rice Table. Think of this as tapas with an island flair.
The marvel for me was the Dutch coffee and hot chocolate. Another benefit of colonialization, the coffee is reputed to be the best in the world. The several cups I had bore that statement out---how can a coffee be so rich that it has a crema normally only present on an espresso? The hot chocolate is so rich, served with whipped cream and a spoon, that it served as a stand-alone dessert.
As much as I delight in other cuisines, I am happy to return to my kitchen where I can create my own “local” concoctions of the fresh ingredients from my state, flavored and influenced by tastes of far away lands.
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