We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
You are welcome to just walk in and watch a wedding. We chanced to watch one 2 weeks ago in Madrid in San Jerónimo el Real, right next to the Prado. Man, the French did a lot of destruction in Spain during the Napoleonic era.
Quite formal wedding, ladies dressed to the nines. There is no bridal party, just dressed up kids as bride assistants. Pic is awaiting arrival of the bride. The party after at the Ritz was wild and crazy and went on until the wee hours.
- Spain is for Spring or Fall, not summer. Too hot unless well-north of Madrid. - People in Spain dress well and look fit. Seems to be a matter of pride. Best to look a bit elegant and well-dressed. - Spanish people, we feel, are the most friendly, warm, and freely helpful people we have seen in Europe. - Spanish people go out at night, eat in restaurants, drink wine and beer, stay out late, socialize. - Spanish food is not great. It's not about eating. - Spain is a young country. You see far more youth than grey hairs. Old Seville is a romantic town, maybe Disney Spain. and it's not mostly about old stuff and museums - it's more about life. - Spain is supposed to be one of the sad PIIGS of Europe these days. If it is poor, you would never know it from the city life. - Andalusia embodies a lot of the stereotypes about Spain - bullfights, Moorish architecture, flamenco, etc. Andalusia, and the Iberian peninsula in general, used to be one of the poorest parts of Europe, really since the flow of New World gold and silver ended in the 1600s. Doesn't seem poor now - at least in the cities. - Seville is a charming, human-scale tourist trap. Tourism the main business there, plus higher ed. As in most European cities, local people prefer to go into the Old City to hang out. - Seville is far up the Guadalquivir River, but it was the starting port for the New World expeditions, including Columbus'. As the river silted up, Cadiz became the port for the New World.
Rainy night alley in the old city.
Lots more below the fold, with plenty of small streets and alleys in the medieval maze. We saw lots of other places in Seville, but these posts are a lot of trouble to put together so give my pics a look.
Spain is a great place to look at Moorish architecture. Sometimes it is referred to as Islamic, but Moorish is more accurate. The horseshoe arch, for example, was borrowed from the Christianized Visigoths who ran the various Spanish kingdoms before the Moslem Moors successfully invaded Iberia in the 700s.
Even after Christian kings had their long reconquista, but while Granada was the last Muslim outpost (until 1492), Moorish architects and craftsmen were in demand throughout the Iberian peninsula because the style was so popular. That post-Reconquista style is referred to as Mudejar, which often combined Moorish with some Gothic and Renaissance styles.
My pic of a courtyard in the Alcazar in Seville is Mudejar. In Moorish architecture, it was usual to use scavenged old Roman columns for their new buildings.
It was a convention of Moorish design to decorate the heck out of walls, with maybe 5-6' of colorful geometric ceramic tiles from the floor, then rising to the ceiling with intricate carved-looking walls which often have some Koranic verses in them.
This from the Alcazar in Seville:
I learned three things about Moorish upper-wall treatment:
- This is not stone. It is marble plaster. - This is not carved. It is made with molds while the plaster was soft. - These walls, now white, were generally painted originally so it must have been jewel-like. It reminds me that Greek statues and columns, and even the statues of saints etc. on the outside of Gothic cathedrals, were also painted.
This is my pic of a plaster wall in the palace in the Alhambra.
We ate a lot of tapas in Spain, partly because dinnertime there (9 pm) is a bit late for us. Also, we kept trying to find some really good ones. I concluded that none of them are all that tasty except with wine or beer, and we were not drinking booze. It's bar food. An exception was the tapas at the Madrid Ritz, but those were about 20 euros each instead of the normal 3 euros each.
I think we only did 2 real dinners, on the fancy side. At one, I had bacalao and at the other, suckling pig. Both excellent.
We broke the rule of Foods to Avoid in Spain, partly just because we wanted to see how they did it. We tried paella twice, once as a media ration with tapas and one shared for lunch. The latter was ok with squid, octopus, mussels, etc, but I just don't get the big deal about paella.
I also had to try a gazpacho, as in my pic along with some tapas. This one was creamy and delicious. We did try Salmorejo in Cordoba. Disgusting stuff, we agreed.
Anyway, the fun part of tapas is deciding which ones to try. That plate in the middle was fried eggplant. Not delicious at all - but it should be. Pic is the outdoor cafe at the Parador de Grenada.
We took the high-speed AVE train from Madrid to Seville. 310 k/hr, smooth as silk, utterly quiet, large comfy seats, and with stewardesses serving drinks and snacks. Just one stop, in Cordoba. Reservations are required because these trains are always sold out.
Later, we took the same train north to Cordoba.
Madrid train station. It even has a turtle pond.
Andalusian countryside from the train. It is dry, and 90% olive orchards.
I told my father-in-law tonight (a darn good sport to take care of our pup for 12 days) that the high point of our trip was the High Mass Sunday morning a week ago at the Seville Cathedral, the largest cathedral in the world. Second was probably seeing the gigantic Garden of Earthly Delights in the Prado. I did not realize that this altarpiece is about 12' wide and 6' high.
Delightful surprises were encountering two dear old couple friends by complete serendipity. First was a couple we have known from church and many other things. Mrs. BD said, as we were having cafe con leche in the garden cafe of the Parador de Granada (which is inside the walls of the Alhambra) "You won't believe this, but I think the ___s are sitting over there." They were two tables away. Good fun. Plus their room at the Parador was next to ours. The other one was Friday when we were having high tea in the garden at the Madrid Ritz. One of my closest pals and long-time confidantes ambled over past the fountain and said how fitting it is to run into the Bird Dogs having tea at the Ritz. I love things like that.
Anyway, we managed to catch two flamenco shows at tiny little venues in Seville. This was one (approximately) of the performances we saw at the Flamenco Museum. Good luck finding that amongst the crazy maze of medieval alleys where the phone GPS won't work. The dancing is mostly improv. The clapping styles are remarkable. Very strange, emotional stuff. Ole.
Pic is a crowded Cape Cod beach - the bay, at Wellfleet. Duck Harbor. You can walk it for hours, if you bring enough water. Can take dogs there, off leash of course. Do dogs love that? Guess. At low tide, it is dog heaven.
Mitcham's Provincetown Seafood Cookbook. His Kale Soup and Haddock Almondine, along with all the rest of his Portuguese-influenced recipes - are immortal, but his Baked Stuffed Cod is the best. The whole Cape area has lots of Portuguese descended from the visiting Cod fishermen (Emeril, from Fall River, is one.) Interesting fellow, Mitcham. Highly productive in his life; rarely, if ever, sober from what I heard. Dead now, at 77.
I have a few other out of print Cape Cod area history books that I won't link because even Abe's doesn't have them.
On our way driving over and up up to Lake Garda from Milan in our cool Costco International Benz, we stopped to check out Bergamo for a few hours. We had read that it is undeservedly overlooked, a hidden treasure. Home of Donizetti.
The medieval citta alta overlooks a clearly prosperous modern town. We parked the car and took the funicular up to the old hilltop town. We strolled around the town and had a great lunch. Most of my pics are food, classic Lombardy cooking.
We drove down from the Dolomiti and the Alps to Verona, which is immediately south of the foothills. Straight shot on the Autostrada (#22). Nice little Renaissance town. We stayed in the Old City (an old Roman city on the bend of the Aldige River) instead of venturing out into the modern city (pop. 275,000). Tourists hang around the old city, but plenty of Italians come into the old city for fun and shopping.
Verona is a charming old town, walkably-manageable in size although we did get a little lost walking out to see St. Zeno. Getting lost is not a bad thing because you see things. It is a bitch to drive into, though, once you get off the highway. Cops keep yelling at you for going the wrong way. Gotta laugh.
The Passagiata in Verona is wonderful, between 5 and 8 pm. It's a town of lovely women of all ages, and the Italian men look great with their fitted shirts and tailoring. We tourist men, not so great. All the kids in strollers and backpacks look good, and the women look feminine. Lots of real blondes in northern Italia.
In my view, all women and all men ought to try to look their best, in public at least. Being over 40 or 50 doesn't mean that you are dead. I just have no talent for style. I shoulda brought my red trousers with me.
Dinner is around 8-8:30, and afterwards the young and/or single people, looking good, fill the narrow streets and piazzas - I call them pizzas - and bars with laughter and flirtation. A jolly scene. Women hold hands, men kiss. Everybody drinks and smokes.
La dolce vita.
Lots more pics below the fold - Mrs. BD thought our lady readers might enjoy the clothing shops -
The old Hospital of St. Katherine Brewery, with a delightful beergarden on the bank of the Danube in pleasant Regensburg. Like many beer joints in Bavaria, they make their brews on premises and throw out the unused after one week.
Regensburg, interestingly, marked the northermost outpost of the Roman Empire. Augustus visited there, and I hope he had some brew.
You stroll over the c. 1100 stone bridge to get to the Spital brewery and beer garden. The lad and I went over the bridge a couple of years ago and hoisted a couple of their fresh brews. I never should have had their Bock, delicious as it was. The steins are large, of course.
We recommend that town for classic German food and drink, many medieval remnants, and some old Roman walls and stuff. Not a touristy town like Salzburg, just a fine small Bavarian city where you can walk everywhere.
Why this post? Cuz I was drinking my protein shake out of a Spital stein I picked up there. Yes, I paid a euro or two for it, as a souvenir. It says SPITAL...Regensburg...Seit 1225. That's an old brewery.
Once or twice a year we organize artsy-fartsy outings for our artsy art-loving friends. On Saturday, the most beautiful day of the year up here, we all got up to Storm King Art Center to spend four hours hiking around the lovely park-like grounds in the Hudson Highlands.
Wonderful outing. I determined that one of the potties in the woods was a Richard Serra, but it was just a potty. Saw a fox and a few migrating raptors. Plus lots of Calders, Serras, Di Suveros, Goldsworthys, etc. These large constructions look their best in large spaces with plenty of 360 degree perspective. Good fun. Tired legs.
The place is growing. It's a destination for worldwide art-lovers, and you will hear all sorts of languages spoken as you hike the 500+ acres. Photo is a Goldsworthy stone wall, diving into the lake. I do not know whether it's art, but it is fun to see a finely-constructed wall and that is good enough for me.
Thanks to wealthy people with good taste, America became the fine arts center of the world. For now, anyway.
Check out Storm King sometime. You can bring a picnic or have a sammich at their little outdoor cafe. In 3 1/2 hours of walking outdoors you can not see it all. Our next expedition will be in winter, to DIA Beacon. That's another famous worldwide art destination.
Off topic, but for Northeast hiking, google Hudson Highlands hiking. Great stuff with countless trails of all lengths, and excellent for the fall migration.
For overseas travel, we tend to travel heavy. If we're on ships and boats, or renting a car, it's pretty easy to travel heavy except when banging around airports.
We travel heavy because we do so many different things, from dressed-up to rough hiking, and everything in-between. We are partial to staying in tenutas in the countryside, and boutique hotels in town where they have overnight laundry service. Never really tried traveling light since our youth.
For our upcoming trip, we decided it made more sense to forget the Costco International car rental (which we highly recommend) and just to train it between cities even though I enjoy driving in Europe and getting lost usually leads to interesting adventures.
Traveling light means some form of carry-on-sized luggage, and an additional bag of stuff to hand-carry for which I usually use a large LL Bean tote bag containing reading stuff, a smaller day bag or briefcase that I stuff in there, camera, etc. Airlines never seem to mind that bag. I don't bother with laptop for recreation travel.
So my airplane plan is to wear the blazer and tie (which I like to wear traveling anyway because you get treated better if you look good), my largest hiking shoes, maybe a light jacket, wear the hat, etc. and to put other stuff in a carry-on.
But what sort? Gotta figure on needing a couple of dress shirts, nice shoes, polo shirts, toiletries, a few pairs of trousers, etc. No rain gear or sweater needed on this trip.
Towards the beach at Duck Harbor, on Cape Cod Bay. I do love it out there in Wellfleet and Truro with the sand and the salty breeze that prevents biting bugs and the piney smell and the miles of protected and undevelopable land. Also, the multi-mile-long beaches with nobody on them except you and the seals.
Wellfleeters know that Duck Harbor used to be a harbor. Currents and storms closed it off with these low dunes, and now the old harbor is a gnarly, impenetrable (I know) fresh-water wetland, full of wildlife and highbush blueberries.
While work has been a major political hassle for the last 6 months, one of the benefits of 10-plus years of employment at a firm is the ability to take longer vacations. My recent 2 week sojourn was predicated on the desire to use frequent flier miles we'd amassed, along with a free ticket due to an airline screw-up during our vacation to Italy last year. Toss in low-cost housing with AirBnB, a reason to travel because my niece was representing the US on the under 18 hockey team, and my siblings all wanting to travel (or living in Vienna), and the wife and I decided it was a good time to head across the pond.
Vienna was our base, as my sister and her family live there. The hockey tournament was in Prague. So, 5 days in Vienna, drive 3 hours and spend 5 days in Prague, then drive back and enjoy 2 final days in Vienna.
Vienna offers the ability to take boat/train/bus to Bratislava and Budapest for the day. It's proximity to Prague was obviously useful, and the road there allowed us to stop in Heldenberg to see the Spanish Riding School's summer stables, then stop in Telc for lunch (or Jihlava for lunch on the return).
These stops were very nice. Telc, in particular, was a great 3 hour stop. Highly recommend it to anyone passing through. Wonderful town square, beautifully restored. Make sure you climb to the top of the (very claustrophobic and designed for short people) bell tower. But Prague was our main goal. Not just for the hockey (which didn't work out well for our side), but take in one of the most wonderful cities in Europe.
A classic of Film Noir, The Third Man is probably one of the most famous to inextricably link its story and characters with the city in which it was filmed, Vienna. On any given day, you can walk past filming locations. My first day there, I inadvertently passed Harry Lime's apartment, but deliberately went to the infamous ferris wheel, or Riesenrad.
Lime's apartment building is almost next door to the Imperial Palace, in a fairly noteworthy section of the city. Yet you really wouldn't make the connection between reality and film if you weren't aware of its use, and I wasn't that first day. In fact, I wasn't clued in until my brother-in-law pointed it out to me on my last day in Vienna.
I didn't go to Vienna to do a tour of the film's locations, but trying to visit them will certainly give you a good understanding of the city and its history. It was filmed over some of the more interesting portions of town, and given the timing, the use of British and Soviet sectors helps keep that part of history alive and interesting. A tour of film locations is as good a way to see the city as any other.
To that end, there are some points of The Third Man worth addressing for modern viewers who aren't familiar with history. After all, Austria and its capital city, Vienna, were split by the Allies into zones of occupation and management much like Germany and Berlin. This continued for many years, ending in 1955 when secret negotiations between Austrian diplomats and the Soviets steered Austria into a neutral global position. (It may come as a surprise to some, but Vienna has tended to have a very cozy relationship with Socialism, and Communism in particular. While Austria has been a successful post-war 'Western' nation and economy, its capital city's cozy relationship with leftist politics are evident in location names (Friedrich-Engels Platz), tenement/museums (Karl-Marx-Hof, built in 1930), and even some of their monuments.) As a result, even though the war was long over, the military plays a primary role in the story.
Most of the film takes place in the British zone, which is where Lime's apartment is located. His address is 15 Stiftgasse, but the real location is the Palais Pallavicini, across from the Spanish Riding School in Michaelerplatz.
Since the film was shot in Vienna while it was still rebuilding after the war, in 1949, the devastation is still clear in many scenes. Most notably the road to the cemetery (south of the city toward the airport) or the lot next to the Cafe Mozart. The real Cafe Mozart wasn't used in the filming, as the location chosen was the Neuer Markt.
While we were in the Czech Republic, we had a wonderful dessert concoction known as Tredlnik. It's a doughnut-like pastry wrapped around a rotating spit, fired over charcoal, then dipped in a sugary glaze and covered with cinnamon. The inside is coated with chocolate, and you can choose a variety of fillings. Ice cream is popular, but I really liked the strawberries and whipped cream.
It's one of the least healthy but most delightful snacks I've had. If you've never seen or had it, I would best describe it as an ice cream cone, but it's softer, there's a hole in the bottom, and it's served warm (even hot) - so while ice cream works in it, you'd better eat it fast.
The lines at Prague's Tredlnik stands were always long, particularly after 11pm when the drinking crowd started showing up in force. Lines often included young men on their bachelor party, forced to wear dresses, and often being held up by their buddies. When I woke up early to visit the Charles Bridge (you really do have to wake up early if you want pictures of it without crowds), I was stunned to see the same women I'd seen the night before around midnight, firing up their Tredlnik fires and making the dough. I wasn't sure if they were just finishing up from the night before and about to be replaced by the next shift, or if they were really hardcore workers.
I recently returned from 2 weeks in Austria and the Czech Republic. We were taking a trip to Prague to see my niece compete in a Under 18 international hockey tournament. Since my sister lives with her family in Vienna, we felt the best solution was fly to Vienna, stay a few days, rent a car, drive to Prague, take in some sights. We left the boys at home to care for the dog, watch the house and earn some income before heading back to school, and jetted off to Vienna.
Upon arrival, we were told to take the CAT (City Airport Train) into Wien Mitte station, and grab a cab. Not knowing the city, this was our solution, and it paid off. Cabs are expensive, but our cab driver gave us great information about using public transport, and helped us figure out what parts of the city to see. A wonderful fellow, he was a graduate of U of Cal Santa Barbara and spoke perfect English. Gave us insight on how cabs operate, what to be careful of so we didn't get ripped off, etc. It's amazing how much information can be shared in a 15 minute cab ride. I didn't think a picture of the subway was enticing, so I'm opting for a view of the city from the high swing at the Prater (I wanted to ride the ferris wheel from The Third Man, but that took too long, so we hopped on the swing):
- For starters, the view from our deck (photo above)
- Our pup, despite age, is still able to fully enjoy exploring the salt marshes and Cape Cod woods. Half-blind and deaf, but nose still works well. For the first time, we would not let him swim with us. His arthritis is terrible and his athletic endurance is limited. He would probably drown.
- While hiking on the Audubon land, we were lucky to come across the hatching of a nest of Diamondback Terrapins. 12 tiny ones pushing up through the sand at the same time. A first, for me. They emerge from the sand, blink a few times, then scamper for cover as if their life depended on it. Which it does. I took photos, but my camera died before I could download them. A dead Lumix with quite a few good pics in its memory. Maybe I can get them from the memory card.
- Wild highbush blueberries. Blueberries are native to North America. There are two wild forms, the lowbush types of the far north and the highbush of more temperate climates. Wild highbush berries are less than half the size of commercial berries, and darker, sometimes almost black. Somebody is farming wild highbush. Expensive. Taste brings me back to my youth of berry-picking in the woods. Mom tied strings through holes in metal coffee cans, painted our names on them, put the strings over our necks and sent us out to fill the cans. We had to let the little sibs climb on our backs to reach the high berries.
- Outdoor calisthenics in salty air and piney woods. About one hour, every morning at 630 or 7. Best way to begin a day of physical activity.
- A car. Friends visited with their older Audi S4 with a V8. Now I want one. Makes a fine sound.
- Blueberry pancakes at The Lighthouse, and dozens of Wellfleet Oysters everywhere we ate. At least 6 dozen, probably more. And the Steamers and Lobster festive supper I made for Mrs. BD's birthday party. Always good to have so much family around. Always buy large lobsters.
- With ocean temps pushing the high 60s, you could body surf until fatigued. Nothing better. Some Great Whites around, but the lifeguards let you know when they spot them. Heck, they would probably grab a little kid out there before they would grab you...
It's almost family reunion time again for us. We travel as much as we can afford, or more, but the Cape always calls us home.
Year after year, very little changes in Wellfleet, Massachusetts except the steady erosion from the sea which will eventually eliminate the whole thing. As a glacial moraine, it was never meant to last forever.
One of my life goals is to make sure my kids, and my kid's kids, absorb the salt air, piney fragrance, and cool salt water into their souls as I have done all of my life. A precious inheritance for them.
That is bad: there goes the neighborhood? Or time to buy before you can't because rich jerks may arrive. At present, it's a sort-of secret, unfashionable Subaru-type place. Bernie bumper stickers, and locals with beater pickups with NRA stickers and Grateful Dead stickers. A share of very quiet old Boston families, profs, writers, artists, architects, NY shrinks - and lots of regular people like us. You know what I mean.
Lots of random pics of just some of the things we love. Not mentioning all of the seafood, on which we feed constantly out there,
For example, water lilies in bloom on a Wellfleet/Truro "pond." Pic from my kayak.
Lotsa pics below the fold, with some useful info mixed in...
We'll have all the kids etc., the puppy, my in-laws, and friends. Not to mention all of my sibs and their families. Big house on the harbor. Have to buy some more kayaking life vests. Pond kayaking or salt water, both good.
A classic of Film Noir, The Third Man is probably one of the most famous to
While we were in the Czech Republic, we had a 
