“I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.”
I apologize for yesterday. It was Patriot’s Day here in Massachusetts, and it’s the day I work the marathon. The alarm jarred me awake at 6. That may not sound early, but for me, it’s the middle of the night. I had a quick cup of coffee and read the paper then left at about 6:40. As usual, I parked at Quincy Adams and took the T to Boston. The day was breezy and chilly. Even in the tent where I worked, it got mighty cold. My job every year is to set up lunch then feed the volunteers who work at Copley because once inside the barriers, there’s no leaving so lunch is a necessity. I was at the back flap of the tent and for the first time I heard the bells ring when the winner crossed the finish line. I didn’t see him, but hearing the bells was almost as good. My job is finished by 12:30, and I don’t hang around. I was home by 2:20 and went right upstairs for a nap. I was exhausted.
Today is cloudy and surprise, surprise, it’s supposed to rain. I have a bunch of errands to do so Gracie and I will hit the road when I’m finish here, rainy or not. I have a list! The bird feeders are empty again, but I have seed so if the rain holds off until I get back, I’ll fill them. I miss my morning birding.
This is April vacation week here for kids. We never did anything special when I was young but not going to school almost seemed special enough. When I was an adult, my parents and I usually went to Europe for the week. I’d pick one country, and they’d happily come along. They were great travelers. My favorite trip, though, was when my sister came too. We went mostly to Belgium though we did stay in Holland a couple of nights. I was the driver, and I won’t ever forget driving in Holland. At some body of water we needed to cross, I had to get the car on a ferry by lining up the wheels with the two pieces of wood used for loading. That seemed easy compared to the other memory forever etched into my brain: driving beside that dike. A truck was off-loading sheep at the other end of the road and was taking up most of the road. The driver waved me to one side of the road with not enough room for the car.Two tires were on the road and two were in the mud along the side of the dike which put the car at an angle. I swear no one was breathing as I held on to the wheel with all my strength to keep us from sliding into the dike water. I remember the sound of exhaling when we got to the end of the dike road.
We visited many WWII sites, and my dad was thrilled. We spent a night in Bastogne, ate at the hotel where officers had stayed during the battle of the Bulge and visited the museum. As we were leaving, we saw the sign just out of town which indicated where the Germans had advanced. It was right out of the town. We stopped in the Ardennes and saw lines of tank traps looking like teeth though many are now hidden by the encroaching woods. It was an amazing trip.
I cherish the travel with my parents and the memories we made. I call them to mind often and still can see the whipped cream on my dad’s face from the special ice coffee in Vienna and I’ll never forget the smile he made when he first tasted it.
Explore posts in the same categories: MusingsTags: Bastogne, Battle of the Bulge, Boston, Patriots' Day
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keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
April 19, 2011 at 12:34 pm
Wow and how close was Rochester Hills resident Desiree Davila to winning this thing. If I see her running up and down Walton Boulevard, I am going to stop and congratulate her.
April 19, 2011 at 8:17 pm
My Dear Hedley,
It was an ideal day for the race with the wind at the runners backs. Usually I never hear the bells. It was really neat! She deserves the congratulations!
April 19, 2011 at 12:37 pm
Beautiful memories of your parents to hold.
Yes, in to “the book” with this one Kat. 😉
s
April 19, 2011 at 8:17 pm
Thanks, S, I so loved those trips. We laughed all the time.
April 19, 2011 at 12:40 pm
I took the day off from blogging yesterday so I didn´t notice You hadn´t written anything until this morning 🙂 Yesterday was fantastic with temperatures around 69F, sunny and no wind. Today was even warmer, almost 72, but with wind and some clouds removing the sunlight from the ground.
I mostly travelled to Paris where my brother lived for some years. Since he wanted to be nice while I was there he seldom drove, he hated the french traffic 🙂 🙂 and underground was something he refused to try, so we walked! I think I´ve walked on every street there is in Paris and I loved it 🙂
My brother didn´t only hate their traffic, he also hated the people 🙂 🙂 🙂 but I loved them 🙂 I can honestly say that I have never met any more rude people that those living in Paris 🙂 🙂 🙂
Have a great day now!
Christer.
April 19, 2011 at 8:19 pm
Christer,
I was going to blog when I got home, but I was just far too tired. The nap was well worth it.
I traveled twice to Paris and found the Parisians a bit put out with my horrid French, but I used it anyway. They acted if I had affronted them.
April 19, 2011 at 10:02 pm
I hear that over and over, Kat. If we in south Texas did that every time someone whose first language was Spanish mangled tenses, I would hate to think what life would be like…much less our mental equanimity!
I finally realized years ago that the main problem was that these folks didn’t know how to conjugate verbs in their heads in proper fashion. That led me to begin speaking sloppy Spanish…all in the present tense. As the decades have gone by, I have forgotten most of the rules of Spanish conjugation I learned in 1958-1961, so I am at least as much at fault as anyone in that regard.
However, I refuse to go along with folks who say we should just spell things willy-nilly and that “close enough is good enough” for native English speakers…they bellow, “Well, YOU understood me, didn’t you?” My position is that being able to eventually puzzle out meaning is NOT how we should communicate in our own language.
That is something with which I suspect the French could well agree.
April 20, 2011 at 6:28 pm
Christer,
your brother’s right. the best way to see a city is to walk it.
Although some of the hills my son-in-law took us up in Stockholm almost made me change my mind.
April 20, 2011 at 4:55 pm
Really good post today. Glad too the weather is breaking for the better. I bet you enjoyed those trips to Europe. I remember seeing troops of college aged students studying French or Latin getting on those tour planes out of JFK. IT must have been wonderful to spend the summer months in a different country.
April 20, 2011 at 5:25 pm
Thanks, Z&Me
My very first real trip out of the country (Canada is too close to count) was Africa, and the travel bug bit me. For that there is no cure so I traveled every year until I bought my house. It took so much of my salary that I was stuck here for about 5 or 6 years before I could afford another trip then it was almost every year again.
I haven’t really traveled abroad much since I’ve retired, but I have been to Colorado to visit my sister and her family more times in the last 5 years than in the previous 15 before that.
I loved traveling with my parents.
April 20, 2011 at 5:22 pm
Rick,
I’m with you totally about ,”Well, YOU understood me, didn’t you?” I’d like permission to do bodily harm when that happens. I figure the least people can do is having wonderful communication skills in their own language.
The Ghanaians were thrilled when you spoke to them in their own tribal language. They knew you were trying your best, and that was enough. The garden boy at school spoke pidgin English. He’d drop by for a chat, and I was hard pressed to understand most of what he’d say, but I’d never make fun of him. He was speaking in my language for me. That was a gift.