I have been aware for some time that I didn’t ever post
anything about my trip to Prague with my good friend Shelley. I think it was because I was passing the
torch to my relief person and after coming home, I had stuff to do and time got
away from me, blah, blah, blah. Although
this is not even close to real time since my trip was in the spring, maybe the
pix will still be impressive and maybe cause somebody to look at them and
remember when they were in Praha. There
may be more in Prague to capture the interest of younger people who like to
party because it is definitely a partying city, but Shelley and I tried hard to
do it all in 36 hours. I drove to Prague
and got a hotel in the old city; moving traffic was almost at a standstill with
the throngs pushing into the tight cobblestone streets. Absinthe induced revelry
bulged from overcrowded bars and nightclubs and the streets groaned in slow
motion. One-ways streets criss-crossed
one another in a random fashion causing the most sane person insane enough to
drive in Prague to become easily disoriented.
When we finally found our hotel which was only marked by a small wooden
door with an 8X11 logo, I had to drive again around a couple of blocks to
access the parking “garage”; a 3 story underground bunker with a car
elevator. I just drove down an alley
onto the little courtyard behind the hotel and parked in a white outline not much
smaller than the courtyard. Then I left my
keys with some smiling young guy named Michel who said, “Don’t worry…I take
good care of car 
for you.” It sounded better with the accent but some things
you just can’t write. I heard a long grinding and crunching sound after I
entered the hotel that kind of sounded like my car being chewed up by a salvage
yard car compacter. From my room on the
5th floor walkup I could see the tiny courtyard and Michel waving up
an me with that infernal 
grin but no car…I just hoped for the best. I am
learning that when someplace says “breakfast included”, it could mean anything
or not much as in this case. After
learning how to properly say good morning in Czech, “Dobry Den!”, exploring
Prague was quite the adventure as we got on the wrong bus driving us out of
town the wrong direction. Eventually, we found the right bus but a lot of folks
in Prague don’t speak English, or German or anything else that might have been
a step in the direction we wanted to go. (Always makes me LOL when I cross the
border into another country and suddenly the language changes: the people, the
culture, the 
clothes, the signs, the food, everything changes
immediately.) Anyway, this 2500 year old
city in ancient Bohemia, started to wake up Saturday morning and became alive
again with a different pulse from the night before. The day warmed up into the 70’s and the
people came out in swarms to enjoy the incredible day. Castles, Palaces, The
Charles Bridge with it's interesting and sometimes bizarre scuptures and statues, the Astronomical Clock, the amazing Central Square all were
very alive. After the Sabbath ended, the
Jewish Quarter crawled slowly to life where to our puzzlement, people on the
streets spoke Hebrew; finally a language we could communicate in. We got to
drink Budvar (the supposed originator of Budweiser beer, much to the chagrin of
the people at Anheiser-Busch and the joy of the people at the Budvar Brewing
Co.), we got to see a zombie flash-mob. So many things to see and do and many
of them you just don’t see in America, pretty much ever – the kinds of things
that make you feel just – well … good.
That’s how you say Merry Christmas in Dutch. Of course as I write this I am no longer in
Nederlands but neatly reabsorbed at my home in Florida, paying my yearly
property taxes and homeowners insurance among other bills, refilling my fridge,
replacing burned out lightbulbs. It’s warm and it hasn’t rained; opposite of
the Netherlands, but I definitely enjoyed my time there. I got my knees X-Rayed and a shot of
cortisone in each one and I have an appt with an Orthopod in about a week. All the things that make this holiday season so
joyous and bright. I spent the day Saturday on my last weekend in Europe in
Cologne with my new good friend Jania. (We both live in Pensacola and have
known each other for some 15 years, but never hung out or socialized in the
same circles, and it took Brunssum, Netherlands for us to become good friends!)
My knees were aching but 
since I knew this was possibly my last chance to climb
the stairs to the top of the Kölner Dom (Cologne Cathedral) belfry; 509 stone
steps of the spiral staircase to a viewing platform about 322 ft above the
ground. That’s 509 up and 509 down with each step being about 3 feet wide and several
hundred people all doing the same thing. There was that and the Jewish
archaeological site which was discovered a couple of years ago a few blocks
from the Dom. It is the oldest known
Jewish settlement in Northern Europe.
Yep, they were just digging down to build a new Starbucks 
and found this
whole city, complete with Mikve, Bakery and a Deli. Okay not the deli but the other stuff is
actually in pretty good shape for having been buried a thousand years. The
Christmas markets were starting up and there was the smell of Glühwein,
chocolate, bakeries, pine and for some reason bayberry aroma was everywhere,
too. The bottom picture from inside the Dom is the famous "Adoration of the Magi" triptic by Stefan Lochner created around 1440 AD. By the time the sun started going down I was feeling like an old man, not
so much in pain, but my knees were feeling weak (maybe it was the wein or bier,
but I think not) so we went back to the house. I sure did enjoy Northern
Europe. Next time I plan to be jumping and running.
Prettige Kerstdagen, Frohe Weihnachten,
メリークリスマス, Mutlu Noeller, 메리 크리스마스, Joyeux Noël, Veselé Vánoce, Mele Kalikimaka, or however 
you say MERRY
CHRISTMAS where you come from!
It has been 3 weekends now that I have yet to blog
about. Well there are a few reasons for
that. One is that I hurt my knee running in the spring, took a month off and
started back with aching and soreness again.
Since then both knees have become increasingly sore and a couple of
weeks ago actually feeling like they will buckle 
under my tremendous weight. So
I have not gotten around much the last two weeks. Reason two is Amsterdam (right). This was my second trip there and again I was
not impressed: maybe it was the hoards of people, or the driving rain and icy
wind, or the lines and fees for anything I wanted to do but I
just didn’t like it. The things I did do were unimpressive like the Jewish
History Museum which I thought might be a good substitute for the Anne Frank or
Corrie Ten Boom House, but was an expensive lesson in basic Jewishness 
with a
lot of pictures of Dutch historical figures who allowed Jews to have minimal
rights as if that was a noble gesture. The Sex Museum (not my idea, but better
I thought than standing outside in the rain) was the dumbest thing I may have
ever seen and I felt a little stupider for the experience (standing outside in
the rain would have been more edifying). The cars parked precariously along the canals however did impress me (right). The streets reeked like old
bong-water and the openness of the prostitution made me feel pity
rather than joy about the progressive nature of Amsterdam. Half of the
prostitutes were just gruesome and the other half looked like sex trade
victims. I don’t plan to ever go back to Amsterdam; nothing to see here folks
unless you want to crawl into a coffeeshop and stay in a stupor for the
duration, which be time better spent. Last weekend I went to some smaller places
for some local flavor. First, the town
of Thorn (left) 
for pancakes at their quite famous Pannenkoekenbakkerij (Pancake
Bakery). Pancakes are like a crepe the
size of a pizza and covered with any number of toppings. I had Salmon, mushroom and spinach, but didnt take a picture since I was hungry and it looked too good to become distracted with getting the perfect photo. The town
was created as a monastery then a cloister and then turned over to exclusively
women’s rule about 800 years ago where the Abbess 
(Head Nun) ran the abbey and
town. The whole downtown aka the Old
Town is and always has been, whitewashed and the church is 1000 years old. From
there I went to the Netherlands American Cemetery in Margraten (left) where 8301
Americans are buried. I am awestruck as
I hear over and over how grateful the Dutch are to America for the liberation
from the Nazis and they have markers and reminders everywhere. The cemetery is
very reverent and clean and is maintained by the citizens of the local
community. 
Then a late afternoon drive to the Hoensbroek Castle which is about
15 minutes drive from my place here in Brunnsum (left). Nice big old castle with a
moat, drawbridge and a café that serves espresso and vlaai (a special
Limburgisch fruit pie where the whole pie is baked and the filling is very
thick with fruit – heavy but delicious). To finally catch up, the Kerstmarkts (Christmas Markets)began opening on Friday the 16th. Here they celebrate Sinterklaas which is the
day, December 5, when the big fat man (St. Nicholas) dressed in red arrives to
Netherlands by steam boat (stoomboot) and brings toys to all the good children
and Swarze Piet (Black Pete – a skinny white guy in black-face, supposedly
representing the Moorish tradition but obviously not in a positive light) comes
to collect the bad kids, throw them in a burlap bag and take them away to Spain.
In recent years Swarze Piet has just become a bunch of guys in black-face who
keep the kids amused with antics and candy. But I saw no Swarze Piets last
night, only a Sinterklaas and his lovely wife. I topped the day off about 730
pm with some gluweine (hot mulled red wine) and a pannenkoeken met kaas (cheese
pancake). I missed the big parade because my compadres didn’t want to
stay. Mental health professionals, all
PhDs: one afraid of clowns, one afraid of crowds and one who hates to wait, and
me, feeling like a kid loaded with gluweine and giddy to see
Sinterklaas and Swarze Piet. Although I
had the car keys, I figured it was better to go home now, than to force them to
stay while I am amused and then ride home for 20 minutes with 3 angry
womyn. No, just kidding, they are all
great and we had a lovely time. We laughed and laughed and enjoyed the crisp air
and the day without rain. My knees ache a
little this morning but I only have to go grocery shopping and iron my shirts
for my final two weeks here. Next week, weather permitting, knees permitting
and finances permitting I will spend in Cologne, Deutschland.
Last weekend I went to Brugge or Bruges, Belgium (top) depending
on whether you incline toward the Flemish or French spelling, and it is one
stunning city. It’s been called the
Venice of the North due to the many canals that run through it, although you
hardly need a gondola; maybe a cattle prod to jolt the many tourists. I imagine it is much more congested in the
summer so I am not griping. Brugge itself dates back over 2000 years but
despite the Franks, Romans and Vikings, it was never an actual city until
roughly 900 years ago. Original remnants
of the city remain but much of it is medeival architecture is still there with
buildings dated like 1675 or 1600. Some date back to the 13th and 14th
century and are still inhabited by either government or private citizens. Lots to do in Bruges. Other than canal tours,
there are Belgian waffles which taste yummy especially when doused with
chocolate and coupled with a hot 
coffee on a cold day (right). Belgian beers are diverse and so far SO-O-O-O
good. They are so proud of their beer
that there are signs warning people to BE RESPONSIBLE, DRINK DON’T DRIVE and of
course the eco-friendly urging to SAVE WATER, DRINK BEER. I ate a Flemish Beef
Stew for lunch today that was so good, I wept in front of all the Flems (Is
that what Flemish people are called?) Of course there is plenty of lace and then
there is my chocolate renaissance. I
wrote the other day that Hershey’s kisses trump any chocolate I have had, but
that was my dark ages. I have never seen
it carved in so many different forms: statues, witches, Santa Claus, unclothed
and detailed body parts (right below). Chocolate that hints of strawberry, hazelnut, coconut,
you name the flavor. I now know beyond any doubt what Heaven will be like
because I have tasted and smelled it in Brugge – I 
am still talking about the
chocolate. I can still smell it hours later, partly due to having dribbled
chocolate from my waffle down the front of my jacket and getting it under my
nails and all over my face and partly due to being in chocolate factories. But
enough about chocolate. I could
definitely have spent several days in this city and it would be worth
revisiting. Aside from Bruges, I have a couple of comments again driving in
Europe. Roundabouts are spaced about
every 20 feet in and around most towns so it really feels like driving in
circles sometimes. My GPS says “continue
straight through the roundabout” but you can’t go straight through a roundabout
or “take the second exit” some exits of which are for bike or pedestrians and
some are for cars so I have to be profoundly alert. Roundabouts circle in
continental Europe to the right so when the GPS says turn left, I have to go
right to go left and she gets all confused and tries to recalculate the
route. Bless her heart. In Netherlands and Belgium, pedestrians,
bicycles and wheelchairs always, always have the right of way so those folks
don’t even look. It’s my job to watch
for every idiot that can’t tell that I am an American. (My friend Manny says, “Day ha no cortesy. We
no frong here, wha day speck?” He’s Cuban, so at least I think that’s what he
said. Mostly I just smile and say “Si.”)
I have almost run down 3 people (2 riders and one in a motorized
wheelchair) and they never looked up…just kept cruising right on by. On
roadways there is a sidewalk, a narrow one lane for cars and two large bike
lanes running in each direction. Imagine my caution when I get into a
roundabout with three cars, a wheelchair, 20 pedestrians, and 30 bikes. But at least they’re biking, even 80 year
olds and 3 year olds so that’s good and healthy, I guess. And for my final
comment on the day, there are no billboards anywhere…none. The highways and side roads are steam-cleaned
and ironed daily. They must be because
they are perfect, no bumps or potholes.
Autobahns curve gently so you never feel any centripetal force. And everything’s so pretty. Below are the flags of Belgium (top), EU (left), and Flanders (right).
It is pretty cool to live in a part of the world where I can
wake up in The Netherlands and be in Germany in a 15 minute drive or in Belgium
in about 25 minutes. Last weekend I went with my colleague Manny to
Brussels. The drive took an hour and 20
minutes. We planned to go to Brugge this
morning but it is 30 degrees here and only slightly warmer there, plus it is
supposed to rain all day in Brugge. I
can deal with rain and cold but not both at 
the same time. It just doesn’t sound fun. Maybe tomorrow. I
keep saying to myself, “I have seen enough Medeival cities and cathedrals and
castles,” but every time a new one is in my path I am equally awed. I did see a
few unique things in Brussels though such as the Mannekin Pis (right) which I have seen
copied in many gardens, ponds and pools over the years. The original is actually smaller than I
expected standing maybe 18 inches tall.
You know the statue, the naked little boy peeing. Apparently, it was first made in 1618 but has
been repeatedly stolen and the current statue is from 1965 but I took a picture
anyway; me and the other 200 tourists standing on that tiny cobblestone
corner. The city feels compelled to
dress him in one of over 2000 different outfits, although there is no way to
hide his little wee-wee, the spout of the font. I felt a little voyeuristic,
but mob ruled and I joined them. A short walk down to the lower city, the old t
own,
led to the Grote Markt (Dutch) aka the Grand Place (French) aka the Town Square
walled on all side by massive and magnificent buildings built in the Gothic,
Baroque and Rococco style (left). Everything here
is written in both French and Dutch, actually Flemish, so we can all understand,
including street signs and building names. The buildings were all closed by
then so I had a 7 Euro ($9) Belgian beer, 2 veggie crepes for 12 Euro ($15)
followed by a coffee (reasonably priced) with famous Belgian chocolates and
then stood and looked around the square, kind of nodding my head and thinking,
“OK… so this is Brussels.” Tintin comics originated here and it is the home of
the European Union and Parliament and the home of SHAPE (Supreme Headquarters
Allied Powers Europe). Old city with a lot of new construction, many people,
beautiful tapestries, chocolate and lace. For my euro, it was worth the trip
but somehow not quite as awesome as I expected.
Tintin, I love, although I couldn’t find the Tintin and Snowy Statue or
a copy of a book in English. Tapestries were waaay expensive (although I could
imagine my castle walls adorned with them, to cover a wall would have proven
too costly). Chocolate, in my mouth just tastes like chocolate; I’d be happy
with 20 or 30 Hershey’s kisses for 2 bucks. And I am not delicate enough for
lace. Although I barely have the patience to make a friendship bracelet, so I
am impressed by people who take a week to 
make a doily. Maybe I have
seen one 1400 year old church too many.
I still enjoy them but feel less compelled to take more than 2 or 3
pictures. Manny (left), however takes about 50
shots of every statue and vestibule from every possible angle and zoom. I remember when I was like that a year ago.
I did follow-up on Sunday with a day trip to Sittard (below), a
small Dutch town about 20 minutes from my house which was quaint with its
narrow alleyways, cobblestone streets and houses ranging from the 15th century
to last week and, surprise, an ancient Medeival Cathedral of St. Petrus (right).
I used to think that being named a saint by the pope was some kind of a big
deal but it seems that there is at least one saint from every hamlet and corner
in Europe and certainly more than any one human could name. Of course they all
have a special kind of magic in the relics, which you practically fall over at
every corner, and all the saints have either had visions or done miracles. Not
that I am dissing the Saints…I am just saying that there are a lot of them.
Netherlands. Wooden shoes, windmills, tulips, cheese, dijks
and beer. Except for the wooden shoes,
everything is pretty much as expected.
The shoes as it turns out were a product of necessity when the Dutch
were so poor they couldn’t afford leather.
Tulips are out of season and the only dijks I have seen ride motorcycles
and wear wooden shoes. Hans Brinker was American. The beer is good stuff though; I have sampled
about 10 breweries. And there are so many kinds of cheese I can’t even choose
one at the market. Learning the proper way to pronounce Gouda is among my
greatest accomplishments so far. Dutch language
is kind of complex, much more than I expected.
The cheese is actually pronounced GHow – dah with my tongue touching the
back of the roof of my mouth somewhere between a Hebrew ח het and a hiss, like the
sound a cat makes when it’s pissed off. And the “ch” making almost the same
sound but with a little more of the guttural sound, distinctly different to the
Dutch but virtually imperceptible to me. You roll the “r” in the back of your
throat like the French do and the vowels have about 30 different sounds. When my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth
or I have a couple of beers, however, everything comes out unintelligible,
including my spotty English. I can say “Hi”
in Dutch… “Oy!” Enough about language,
though. The people here are helpful and
friendly, everybody smiles (I’m thinking it’s the beer) and almost everybody
speaks fluent English. I don’t even ask
anymore because when I ask do you speak English they say, “of course” as if it’s
silly of me to ask at all. And they generally speak French, German and Italian,
as well. And the kids I work with are
from all over the world including Turkey, Estonia, 
Poland, Italy, England,
Canada, France, Germany, Netherlands and a few from the USA, so I also get to practice
my language skills, such as they are. I am about 15 minutes from the German
border and 25 minutes from the Belgian. Today was the first day of full sun all
day. Usually it’s cold and it rains at
least half the day but the nice weather is supposed to continue for a few days
with highs in the low 70’s and nights above freezing. I went last weekend to Aachen, Germany (seat
of power of Charlemagne in the 9th century and the church he built is
still in use) and to Valkenburg, Netherlands with ancient castle ruins and
caves and a cool village-wide market. Oh yeah and Holland is a precinct in the
north country where Amsterdam is. The
whole country is not Holland. I live in
Limburg, a precinct in the deep south of Netherlands where “Hi” is prounounced,
“Oy, y’all”.
And the pics are me in trouble already, The Octagon Church built by Charlemagne,
a sample of the Dutch language, and the village of Valkenburg.
I have been to some beautiful cities and some very amazing
places, but I have to say that Salzburg Austria is one of the best. The hills are alive with the sound of music but
it is kinda hard to sum up in a few words that Salzburg really is a beautiful
and almost magical city. The city and
countryside with it’s castles, cathedrals and palaces, alleys and platzes,
rivers and lakes, and of course the Alps make it among my top maybe 5 favorites
places. The pictures speak for
themselves, but it wouldn’t be my blog without a few thoughts.
I spent last weekend in Regensburg, Germany about an hour
and a half from home, which sports a Roman gate and walls, and architecture
from all eras from about the year 1 AD.
It is always interesting though the role war plays in history. The Roman Bridge which spans the Danube River
has been partially destroyed so many times by armies invading or defending the
city that I don’t really know if any of the original work is there, although it
is still called the Roman Stone Bridge or ‘Steinerbrucke’. The city’s origins though go back to its
Celtic days about 1000 BC with discoveries in recent years indicating that
people have inhabited this area since
5000 BC. They say the city contains 1300
medieval buildings; I must have seen about 200 but I lost interest in counting
after 4. Regensburg was spared by the
Allies during WWII, so it is a very old town with all the new stuff springing
up in the space between old buildings and in the burbs. Alas there is no Starbucks in Regensburg, but
at least they have a McDonald’s.
Salzburg, which I learned is pronounced Salts-burg, was also
spared in the old city. The rest of town
was nailed by the Allies, but fortunately the Aldstadt is intact. Mozart music playing
around the Mozartplatz , a beer-fest behind the Cathedral, all the people in
lederhosen and dirndlen, was just perfect plus having excellent weather, the
whole city is 
one giant moving postcard.
I think I set a record by taking 411 pictures. Then I deleted about 250 when I got home and
realized that one mountain doesn’t require 6 photos, nor can one church façade
be any better explained by 12 photos than one good shot. Oh, and Salzburg doesn’t have a Starbucks
either, but there is a McDonald’s. I learned the correct way to pronounce
because although they laugh amusedly when I mispronounce something, the Germans
and Austrians quickly then say, “But you must say “SALTSBURG…TS…TS…TS! Say it
again!” It’s like language boot camp. I
was asked twice though if I am German or American, so I guess that is a good
sign I am not sticking out like a tourist even if I sound like one. This weekend it is supposed to be 82 and
sunny when I go to Nurnberg so I might have to go American tourist mode and
wear shorts and a T-shirt. Then I won’t
be able to blend but I will be comfortable.
Oh the choices we have to make. And one more thing: I
was in awe of The Sound of Music sites, but a little disappointed to learn that
a lot was contrived. For example the
Cemetery scene was all in Hollywood because a cemetery like that doesn’t exist
in Salzburg but it fit the storyline better.
Also the mountain they are scaling at the end when they escape to
Switzerland actually would have led them into Germany. I can’t believe Hollywood would change the
story to make it fit a screenplay. (big sigh)
Oh yeah and my speedometer and plaques identifying the
Jewish family who lived at this location when the Nazis took them, took their
property and separated them. They never
returned. Just take a look at their
plaques.
If I blogged more frequently, I probably would have such long posts. I don't know...
Back in Germany after 3 years, I find that nothing has
changed. It is still a beautiful place
with lots of laid back towns and castles around every corner. Here in Bavaria it is a little different from
the Rhineland. Not as mountainous where
I live “in der Oberpfalz” but I did get to see the Alps, which of course is a
lot more hilly. After Korea and Japan where I had good access to things like
the shopping, wi-fi, and coffee shops, it has been a little frustrating to be
in a one-horse town where groceries are small, wi-fi is either nowhere or at a
considerable charge, and the coffee shops close before I get off work. The town
is quaint however and it’s castle dates back about 1000 years. Nevertheless I
am enjoying it here. I spent the first
weekend with my friends Sherry and Shelley in 
Bamberg which was relatively
unscathed by WWII and has amazing old castles an awesome Cathedral and a great
Altstadt (Old City). It’s many breweries
make it hard to sample all the local beers but I did have a great time at a
Brauhaus with savory German food and Rauchbier, a smoky dark beer unique to the
area and consumed within a few days of brewing, otherwise it goes bad. At least that’s what they say. I think they just can’t brew it as fast as
they want to drink it and waiting for a beer is unacceptable. The next week we
went to Neuschwanstein (Noy-shvan-stine) and Hohenschwangau at the north side
of the Alps. These were castles of Kings
Maximillian and Ludwig II.
Neuschwanstein is the one that the Disney Castle was modeled after. After being rushed through the castle in a
fast 
guided tour and having a beer by the lake we found an elegant restaurant
out in the country when we decided to go off road and find some food. The next
morning in Stuttgart we wandered around and 
finally got on a train back to
home. This past weekend Shelley and I
went to Munich and got a great room in the Aldstadt, climbed the tower at St.
Peter’s Church and watched the Rathaus Glockenspiel do it’s dance at high noon
in the drizzling rain. We spent the rest of the afternoon at Dachau
Concentration Camp Memorial. The
experience was kind of different than I expected. There are a few big memorials built on the
site to commemorate certain groups of people who were murdered and martyred
there. Much of it seemed almost like a
big empty park, but what do you do with a place like this? It couldn’t be left as it was 67 years ago,
it couldn’t be beautified. Parts were
very chilling. First was the entrance where the railroad stopped and people were marched
through the gate that reads “Arbeit Macht Frei” (Work Brings
Freedom) into the courtyard. The second was the gas chamber, clearly marked
“Brausebad” (Shower) next to the crematorium, both fully intact. The small rooms at either end of the
crematorium were morgues where bodies were stacked by the hundreds. Some were
even stacked outside against the walls because the morgues were full. The barracks had been reconstructed and only
two are there, although 32 existed at war’s end each having been crammed with
up to 2000 people although they were built to house 200. The memorial is not a
pleasant place to visit, but seems to have been watered down or minimized 
somewhat. They advertise it as the Third Reich Tour,
failing to address the holocaust that happened here. 31,000 people died at
Dachau, most from disease and starvation and many from execution by shooting,
hanging or gassing but it is not called an extermination camp. Maybe semantics sometimes seem tedious, but
sometimes calling it what it is seems more appropriate. After that we
definitely need something to lighten us up a little and found a Starbucks WITH
free wi-fi and had dinner and weissbier at the Ratskeller under the Rathaus
(Old City Hall). I love speaking German, if what I do can actually be called
speaking German. And to top it all off it snowed about an inch and continued 
to
flurry til we had to get back on the train to ride home again. Whew!
It has been a busy 3 weeks. Work
is going well and traveling is going well, I have lost a few pounds, and I am
running every day. Alles ist gut. Next weekend we plan to spend in Prague. I am fairly sure that will be a great time. The pictures in order from R-L and Top to Bottom are: Bamberg Cathedral, Streets of Bamberg, Me and the Alps, Neuschwanstein, Dachau entrance, the gate at Dachau, The Rathaus and Glockenspiel at Munich, Alstadt entrance in Munich, and a view of the altstadt in Munich, Me & Weissbier.
