CAROLYN

A Short Stay in Tasmania

Australia /

A short stay in Tasmania “You’ve found the Jewel in the Crown,” the docent at Narranya Heritage Museum said when I told her I was in Tasmania for the first time. Much to do, you should come back, she advised. She was right. With not quite four days I was going to miss a lot. Just the half-mystical name Tasmania was almost enough to draw me there. I flipped through a glossy magazine and saw an ad for The Friends’ School in Hobart – “Leading edge school on the quiet rim of the world.” Another reason that I came. The quiet rim of the world, next stop Antarctica. Quiet maybe, but there’s plenty to do and I didn’t get to it all. And if I’d come just a few days later, Spiegeltent Hobart 2016, part of an annual arts festival, would have been on. But I did the two things at the top of my list – a ride to the summit of Mount Wellington and an ocean excursion. And I had time to roam around Hobart. Settling into Hobart I chose to stay in Hadley’s Orient Hotel because it’s in the center of Tasmania’s capital Hobart, and it’s a historic site. For one thing it’s where Roald Amundsen came incognito in 1912, after beating Robert Falcon Scott to the South Pole, keeping under cover until he could telegraph the news to his sponsors and the King of Norway. He telegraphed from the main post office, which still is Hobart’s main post office. He complained that he hadn’t been treated well at Hadley’s. But think what he must have been like after all that time without a bath, and concealing his identity, too. The hotel made amends. Hobart is one of Australia’s driest state capitals, which surprised me, with it being green and almost on the ocean. But that aridity doesn’t mean the sun shines all the time so I usually had a small travel umbrella with me. I was rained on only once, and that was just after I’d bought takeaway pizza down in the Salamanca district. It was such a short walk that I went umbrella-less, and just as I headed home to the hotel, the rain started. So I stopped under a market umbrella in front of a café and ate the whole pizza standing. The pizza and rain were done about the same time. Hobart is way down there Ascending Mount Wellington Mount Wellington rises 4,100 feet from sea level, right over Hobart. It’s a park and nature reserve with many recreational options but I only wanted to stand on top. I booked a half day “tour” of Mount Wellington, having no intention of driving it myself. Our congenial driver said tourists are a menace. They cling to the side and creep. “Look, there’s one,” he said once, as we passed a small red car with a panicky looking driver. It’s not the most frightening mountain drive I’ve ever taken but it’s dramatic enough with no shoulder and Hobart and the Derwent estuary way down there. If 4,100 feet doesn’t sound like much, it’s still a long way up when you’re looking over the edge. It was warm down in Hobart but cold and windy on the summit. There were a few high clouds and others picturesquely just below us as we stood on top. Jackets were zipped and hoods secured. There were a lot of people up there, though not a crowd. Many were in the enclosed lookout while others of us walked rocks and walkways. I was a little afraid of being blown off so I held onto walkway rails or stood away from the edges. I seem to be grimacing in my selfies. And as I headed back to our van, it was stop-you-in-your-tracks windy, like a dream with my legs moving but going nowhere. A man nearby was pushing against the wind like me. It made us laugh. If all you do is admire the view, it’s worth the trip. And even if you go in summer, take your layers. Tasman Island Cruise About the first thing I did when I got settled was sign onto the Tasman Island Cruise at the Pennicott Wilderness Journeys’ office on the harbor. My head was stuffed with a mash-up of allusions to Finding Nemo, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, European voyages of discovery from Abel Tasman on. Polar explorers launching from Hobart. That’s OK. Imagine what you want to. Riding the East Australian Current, being on the Tasman Sea, looking out to the Southern Ocean, this was it. I know nothing about boats and can’t swim. But the company gave us a thorough safety briefing and outfitted us in waterproof garments something like a zip-up monastic habit in red. Or a long bag with a hood. They counseled how to avoid seasickness. Thus I embarked on my trip from Eaglehawk Neck to Port Arthur in our little purpose-built, open-air boat. It was a sunny day. The swell was average for the Tasman Sea, just a few meters. The water was black, then blue, then frothy turquoise near the rocks and cliffs. Bait fish were boiling up and birds fed in frenzy. A white-bellied eagle sat high on a cliff face watching. Tasman Island Once when we stopped to observe a seal colony, we saw hundreds of jellyfish medusas just below the surface. There seemed to be southern albatrosses everywhere. Our captain said this would be the only time some of us (like me) would see them because they spend all their lives at sea. Then whoosh! A big albatross flew right across our bow. Whew. Our captain said it would have been awfully bad luck to collide. I’ve read the “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” and I know. There we were amongst the albatrosses, shearwaters, gulls, cormorants, eagles. And the fur seals. Not the pesky harbor seals, but the ones that were hunted to near extinction, sunning on rocks or lying prone in

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Petra to Wadi Rum and Bait Ali Camp

Middle East /

Petra to Wadi Rum and Bait Ali camp Leaving Petra, knowing I might not be back, was a life moment. (See my Petra post here.) Ahmad and I headed off on the Kings Highway, winding around hillsides to our first rest stop, a souvenir shop with no tourists, where Ahmad got a coffee and had a couple of smokes, and I used the bathroom. The three-story shop was high on an escarpment. The view from the wall of windows in the women’s bathroom was spectacular. I hope the men had a good view, too. In the small dusty garden, there was a Blessed Mother and Christ Child statue, painted eyes, red lips, and gold trim on their garments. The only other people I saw there were the woman who made coffee and two men upstairs, talking and pacing when we came and lounging on pallets when we left. Before we took the turn-off to Wadi Rum, we stopped again. Ahmad wanted cigarettes but didn’t want that to be the only thing he bought, so he came back with a pack of cookies, too. I ate only one. Jordan has few natural resources. No oil, no minerals to speak of. But phosphates – that is one resource they do have. We crossed the phosphate train tracks to get to Bait Ali camp. An undated online slide deck says that the Aqaba Railway Corporation transports phosphates from the mines to the port. We stopped on the tracks and Ahmad took a photo in the direction of Aqaba. Before sunrise the next day, I heard a train. I do all the tourist things and am proud of it I’ve read reviews of Bait Ali camp and a just few are a little sniffy because it’s not really a Bedouin camp, and you’re not really sleeping in the desert. And the camel rides are short. I can understand if people want to sleep in the desert with Bedouin hosts, but the camp suited me well. My halfway house to the real thing, maybe. I had a tent with an electric light bulb but no water, and just a little latch on the door. Tent # 67 was my first tent since Girl Scouts. When Ahmad and I arrived the camp seemed empty except for Youssef in the unlit reception. He was behind his desk, cooled by an electric fan, working at the camp’s only computer. I asked rhetorically whether I was the only person here. Ahmad took that to heart and said if I were uncomfortable staying here he could take me to another place, which at that point, would have to be Aqaba. But I wasn’t planning to leave. I handed over most of my cash, part to Youssef, because the camp is cash only, and the rest to Ahmad, who left to arrange for my Jeep tour of Wadi Rum and a camel ride. Ahmad returned with the details and added that the Jeep driver was a nice young man. Then he left for Aqaba, telling me to email him when I got back to camp from riding the Jeep and camel. Home at Bait Ali A tourist in the desert Jeep tours and camel rides are desert staples. I’ve seen the pictures of Jeeps flying over dunes. And a Jeep tour meant a Jeep to me. I drive a Jeep and walked out of the camp gate looking for one. But I found out that a “jeep” is anything that runs, and it can be an old stick-shift Toyota pick-up like my guide drove. The truck did the job. Parts of the interior were decorated with a shaggy lilac fabric that also wrapped the gear shift. The center console had lost its top, and a carefully sized and sanded plywood top had been put in its place. My guide wore a dark dishdasha and red and white kaffiyeh. A well-used Koran with gold script on the spine lay on the dash. He was a Bedouin, one of the indigenous people of the desert. He spoke pretty good English, and he told me his father also spoke English. On our way to the desert, we drove in the sand alongside a paved road. “What kind of bones are they?” I asked when I saw a scattering. “Camel bones,” he said. This was the moment when I felt weird. It was so unfamiliar. There were dried bones lying around. I didn’t know where I was going. Ahmad was gone. When would he start to worry if I didn’t email? But we will see where this goes, how it turns out. It’s why I’m here, and this young man – whose name I never learned – earns a living taking tourists to the desert. Later he told me that his older brother does the same thing. (I read that most people in the wadi now make their living from tourism.) He told me he played oud (a stringed instrument) and his father plays rababa (mentioned in my Petra by Night post). Later I drank tea with him and his father, on mats under their olive trees, while the family’s camel grazed alongside. His father was a slender handsome man with good English. I also met a younger brother, but not his mother. We drove to the tourist places in the desert, saw where T.E. Lawrence had hidden out. We went up and over the edges of precipitous dunes for an exhilarating ride down, just like the pictures. We stopped at a Bedouin tent opposite a butte with a slide of sand, a sort of sand avalanche, at its base. My guide invited me in to drink tea with him and the young man in the tent. There were some souvenirs on tables but no one tried to sell me anything. My guide and host sat on facing benches talking and studying their cell phones. Video? Sports? Who knows. My seat was about 15 feet away. Another truck pulled up and the driver unleashed

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St. John’s, Newfoundland: Puffins, Cod, Cod Tongues, and Farthest East

Canada /

St. John’s, Newfoundland: Puffins, Cod, Cod Tongues, and Farthest East I went to Newfoundland see the puffins as much as anything so let’s dive right in. There is a lot of other wildlife, but I had to see the puffins, so signed onto O’Brien’s Bay Bulls Boat Tour. There are never guarantees what you’ll see, but this was puffin nesting season and puffins were pretty much guaranteed unless they’d all flown off during the night. And we were guaranteed an iceberg, too, because one that had been floating south grounded itself in the bay. “Guaranteed to see an iceberg,” said the boat’s guide as we watched kayakers heading out to view it. Sunny, chilly. Wearing all of my layers and a new knit hat I’d had to buy in St. John’s because I was freezing. Our safety demo done and we were off, passing the berg and an oil rig that had stopped at the entrance to Bay Bulls on its way elsewhere. It was monstrous. Puffins Galore! And were there puffins? Yes! There were puffins! Lots of them, thousands. The puffins were flying around or sitting in long turf outside the burrows that they dig too deep for a gull or other predator to reach in and snatch an egg or chick. They dig them two or three feet inward with those little webbed feet and cute colorfulPuffins bills. Burrows were spaced out all over Gull Island’s steep grassy slopes, like a hilly neighborhood. Puffins fly very fast and beat their wings so fast that they’re a blur. They are just oblong things in the air. “Flying potato,” said our guide. This was perfect. A nice day, an easy swell, a lot of birds. Puffins, puffins everywhere Along with the puffins, there were thousands of murres, or turrs if you prefer, standing crowded together on bare rocks where they lay their conical eggs. Because of its shape the egg rolls in a circle instead of plopping off into the ocean. A young man at my hotel told me his grandfather eats turrs. “It tastes awful,” he said, adding that old timers like to eat turr because it had once meant they wouldn’t starve. He also told me that there are only about 200 people left in his home town, “and they’re all older than you.” A young man acutely attuned to old timers, I’d say. But back to birds. Black-legged kittiwakes were nesting on the rock faces. Not your average dumpster chicken, our guide said. These birds spend their lives at sea. Bald eagles nest in the area, and we saw an eagle fly-over scatter the adult murres nesting on the rocks. The adults all flew to the water leaving the eggs and chicks exposed. At that point the gulls had a feeding frenzy. It was a little depressing to watch but that’s real life nature. There were other sea birds also, which I won’t list, and a minke whale did a star turn but I was looking at something else. The captain turned to look for the whale but as the guide said, “that whale is 100 percent not interested in us.” And so it wasn’t. A cod and its tongue The cod fishery is central to the story of Newfoundland. A few years ago I read Cod; a biography of the fish that changed the world by Mark Kurlansky. The prologue opens in Petty Harbour, down a way from St. John’s, where I went one foggy, wet day. Cod fishing was the way of life, but in 1992 the Canadian government shut down the cod fishery that had collapsed from overfishing anyway. “The problem with the people in Petty Harbour, out there on the headlands of North America, is that they are on the wrong end of a 1,000-year fishing spree,” concludes Cod’s prologue. I think everyone eats cod some time or other. I like cod. Not as easy to get any more. But cod tongues? I found out that cod tongues are a local favorite, mostly fried, but there are other ways to serve them. They might be a local favorite, but none of the places I ate had cod tongues on the menu. Or I skipped by that item. Cod tongues aren’t really tongues. As I understand it, the “tongue” is a bit of meat at the base of the tongue. And then there are cod cheeks, too, meat also found in the head. Two men who had grown up when the fishery was still Newfoundland’s only way of life told me that when they were little, cutting cod tongues was how they earned money. They’d get the fish heads, cut out the tongues and cheeks, and get paid by the piece. The restrictions on fishing also limited seafood choices for restaurants, according to the June 2016 Westjet Magazine I thumbed through on the way home. But “just last year, officials relaxed the laws restricting direct wharf-to-restaurant sales.” So go, and enjoy the seafood offerings. Newfoundland has an abundance of creative chefs from what I’ve read, and I did eat well in St. John’s. Cape Spear – Where Canada Begins or Ends Another important place. This is the easternmost point in Canada and I had to be there. Newfoundland farthest eastI went via an excursion with two other people who I think had seen Cape Spear before. I alone got out of our van and walked the path to the edge of Canada through wind-blown drizzle, fog and cold. But then I thought “how North Atlantic” and enjoyed my moment staring out at the rocky edge of the nation. Even better, I thought this was the eastern tip of North America until I went on the O’Brien boat trip. Loyola O’Brien, one of the boat tour company founders (after the cod fishery shut down . . . ) told me Greenland is part of North American so I have to go there for farthest east. I was crushed. But Canada’s edge is pretty good!

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St. John’s, Newfoundland: North America’s Oldest City

Canada /

St. John’s, Newfoundland: North America’s Oldest City One day I realized that I hadn’t been anywhere in Canada for a while. As I thought more about it, my attention was drawn toward the east, toward Labrador and Newfoundland. Logistics to Labrador were tricky. Newfoundland is easy to get to, has a city to stay in, and is beautiful, rugged and remote. It’s a bit off the tourist trail for U.S. visitors. And it’s a long way away, about half way to London for us east coasters. A long way from the rest of Canada, too. What finally drew me there? Partly, it might have been that remoteness, that being on the edge. And maybe it was an old Audubon magazine with an article about puffins. They are so cute and the largest North American colony of Atlantic puffins is off Newfoundland. Then there are superlatives. Newfoundland is the easternmost tip of Canada. St. John’s is the oldest city in North America. I like the north. All these things came together over a few days and I decided to go. The Oldest City in North America – a Few Facts St. John’s is the capital of the Canadian Province of Newfoundland and Labrador. It’s remote, but then not so remote. From St. John’s to New York, it’s a four-hour flight. But it’s also only four and a half hours’ flying to London or Dublin. St. John’s is the easternmost city in North America. Cape Spear, just down the road is the eastern tip of Canada. It’s where they say Canada begins or ends, depending on which way you’re going. St. John’s harbor There is wildlife to see – there are those puffins and much besides, especially the moose that can wreck your car. So watch out. And don’t forget the dogs. Someone said when I told them about my trip, “There’s a dog named Newfoundland, isn’t there?” This is the very homeland of the Newfoundland dog! And the Labrador dog (yes, it’s from Newfoundland, not Labrador)! It’s hard to beat a pair like that. As far as European settlements in North America go, St. John’s and Newfoundland are likely the oldest. After Columbus stumbled into the Americas in 1492, the English hastened to get into the action. In 1497 John Cabot arrived in Newfoundland and claimed it for England. In the late 1500s, the explorer and promoter Sir Humphrey Gilbert got a charter from Queen Elizabeth I to plant a colony in North America, and in 1583, he arrived in St. John’s and staked his claim. When he entered the St. John’s harbor he found 36 ships “of all nations.” St. John’s might be a new claim for Gilbert, but the Vikings had come here hundreds of years before, and Europeans had been fishing the abundant cod fish and sheltering in St. John’s harbor for generations. When Gilbert arrived, the English “found no inhabitants” in the south, but did in the north. The local people, he figured, had abandoned the south because of the European traffic. Old it is, but Newfoundland is the newest Province of Canada. Newfoundland was a Dominion of the British Empire until after World War II. It joined Canada in 1949. Newfoundland is one big island. It’s bigger than Ireland or Iceland. Bigger than Cuba, and bigger than Tasmania. By latitude, St. John’s is south of Paris and all but a tiny bit of Newfoundland is south of Ireland. But it has a northern climate. Keep this in mind even in summer. Newfoundland sits out in the “storm-tossed, ice-infested North Atlantic waters” as I read on a sign honoring Newfoundland seamen, and the weather can turn chilly and rainy even in the summer season. But it has the third mildest winter in Canada and cool to warm summers. And clean air. Very clean air. Go to Newfoundland to admire the views and breathe. So what did I do with six days to spend? See my St. John’s posts about my excursions and out and about in town for that! Trip date: May-June 2016.

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The Ghan: A Train Through Australia’s Center

Australia /

The Ghan: A Train Through Australia’s Center I’ve always loved trains. And, I love going to Australia, so when a friend told me about her trip on the Ghan, it sounded like a great idea. I bought a 6-month advance purchase ticket and waited for the time to come. Riding the Ghan from Darwin to Adelaide The Ghan’s name comes from 19th century cameleers who opened the center of Australia with their camel caravans. Many came from Afghanistan and the name ‘Ghan stuck. The Ghan train runs north-south between Darwin and Adelaide. You can travel in either direction and you can also start, stop or resume a trip from Alice Springs. I chose to go south from Darwin all the way to Adelaide. The trip takes two nights and the most part of three days. A Morning Start in Darwin I was struggling with my baggage. I didn’t have much but when I packed up for the train, I wasn’t nearly as neat as if I were flying. While I was kneeling in the sun to repack and consolidate, someone called out that if we wanted pictures of the train, take them now “before it gets dirty.” So I abandoned my things on the platform and jogged over to the red engine, shiny like a fire truck, better washed and polished than I was after a couple of tropical days and hand laundry. The Ghan Train portraits done and a couple of selfies that missed “Welcome” in the “Welcome to Darwin” sign, I ran back and collected my baggage. There was now a lot of commotion – people taking last photos, verifying cabin or seat assignments, and for those of us in car A3, making a long, hot walk to the end of the 3,500-foot long train. We were getting organized, almost ready to pull out. My Home on the Ghan My home on the Ghan was a single Gold Class cabin, which gave me privacy, a flat bed instead of a reclining seat, all my meals and drinks, and a choice of off-train excursions. Over the months after I bought the ticket, my steadfast image of the cabin was like a movie version of the Orient Express. Then I opened the door to Cabin 12 and saw how tiny it was. A seat, a fold-up table, a small jump seat and the functional, stainless, fold-up lavatory. A narrow cabinet. A high rack with a blanket. But when I got settled in, I was happy with how efficiently everything worked. No joke – there was exactly the space needed. And no more. It helped me be efficient. Of course I’m a small person and not claustrophobic, but people in A3 came in all sizes from a tall Canadian man down to me. No one was complaining. Comfortable, narrow bed Large luggage had to be checked, but my two carryons fit under the bed at night and the table and jump seat during the day. And, during meals, our cabin attendant set up our bed for the night or latched it back to the wall, Murphy-style, in the morning. It was nice going back to the cabin after dinner to find the bed made with white sheets, a maroon Ghan bedspread and chocolate on the pillow. I slid into the cabin (couldn’t open the door all the way with the bed down), closed the door and all was peaceful. Just the rhythm of the train. Unless the train was stopped, which it did now and then. Eating was a big part of train life. See my short post on our food! There were two seatings for meals in my service class. Always hungry, I chose the first seating. The food was excellent. The lounge was open all the time for drinks and gathering. We had a choice of off-train excursions, one each day. For my Day 1 excursion, I elected the Nitmiluk Gorge cruise where we traveled in flat boats between fractured sandstone cliffs along the Katherine River. For Day 2, I chose a trip to Alice Springs Desert Park. And on the second night we stopped in the desert to see the stars. A clear night, the Milky Way bigger and brighter than I’ve ever seen it. There’s another short post on these excursions in the Outback. Ghan people On the Ghan you could avoid other passengers or enjoy them. For sure I was going to meet people at meals, because as a solo traveler, I’d be seated at a table that had an available space. But I like to meet people. It’s nice having people around who smile and greet you. I met a lot of New Zealanders in the lounge and at dinner. Most of them had transferred from a cruise to the train back in Darwin. In my cabin, there was Rob from Australia along with his friends from the UK he was showing around. A young Brazilian woman from Melbourne was on the trip while her husband was visiting family in Brazil. A Canadian man told me he’d taken a scenic trip in the western U.S. on Amtrak, which he liked and recommended. I met Christina from Denmark, who travels the world in her “101 Things to Do When You Survive” tee shirt and blogs about accomplishments from her 101 list. And there was a woman I saw again later in an Adelaide museum, like meeting an old friend in an unfamiliar place. At last, Adelaide I claim that I’m not lonely when I travel, but there are moments like the arrival in Adelaide when suddenly, everyone is gone. I had to leave the shelter of the train. Rob from Australia took my picture at the train station. It’s still on my phone. Then I was off, missing the activity, no one to talk to. But the Adelaide Fringe Festival was going, the Clipsal 500 Supercar race was burning along a course set up on city streets (do I need to say loud?), and I

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Eating and Sleeping in Warsaw

City Notes, Europe /

Eating and sleeping in Warsaw A lot of my travel meals are so basic that some of you might not call them meals. Still, I did go to some restaurants in Warsaw, most importantly for traditional Polish food. I didn’t seek out any vegetarian options although I’m sure they are available in the growing local food scene. At the recommendation of a young woman at my hotel reception, I joined both townspeople and other tourists at Dawne Smaki where I got sour rye soup and the best pierogis of both 2016 Poland trips trips and all the cities I visited.  Delish! I chose four pierogis, one each stuffed with cabbage, duck, veal and mushrooms. And the sour rye soup was loaded with potatoes and sausage. I also got a surprisingly good daily lunch special at the National Museum café one rainy day. But maybe I like the bar młeczny – milk bar – best. These are communist-era holdovers which I have read are disappearing. Too bad. For those of us without Polish grandmas, it might be as close to everyday Polish home cooking as we’ll get. At my local milk bar, I ordered at the counter, retrieved my food when it was ready and bused my own table. My local Milk Bar My “local” attracted all kinds of customers, and you can even reserve a table there as I saw by a homemade “reserved” sign one day. The food is plentiful, tasty and almost insanely inexpensive. The tricky bit is figuring out what to order since everything on the board in my milk bar was in Polish. I’m sure there’s a posh bilingual bar młeczny somewhere, or take a chance and point at the menu or someone else’s tray. Apart from that, I had nice sandwiches and pastries from bakeries and picked up salads and sandwiches from grocery stores (the bakery sandwiches were lots better). Check TripAdvisor, Like a Local, Warsaw in Your Pocket or your favorite travel guide – there are lots of restaurants with good ratings, and the lists include some milk bars. As for hotels, all the brands are in Warsaw and there are other lodging options including apartment rentals and Airbnb. Although it’s not a money-saving choice, my “home away” in Warsaw has been the InterContinental Hotel. I’m treating myself, of course, but I like the hotel, the location, the reception staff and concierges, and I can have the hot or cold breakfast of my choice (which costs extra) at the hotel’s superb buffet overlooking the Palace of Culture and Science. If that building doesn’t appeal, sit on the other side of the table. There’s usually a harpist playing at breakfast so all my days started well. (See my post “In defense of travel breakfast!”) To get around, I walk and use public transportation – buses and trams as well as intercity trains – and the InterContinental and other city-center hotels are a short walk to the Centralna train station where along with the trains, several bus lines originate. There’s a metro station close by, too. Depending on my plans, I bought day or multi-day transit passes from a machine at Centralna. Easy. The big Złote Tarasy shopping and entertainment center is in the next block from the hotel. I was there at least once a day to meet needs from wool socks to desigual tops to groceries, or to get to the train station via the indoor route. Handy. Across the expanse of the Palace of Culture and Science there are other familiar stores and a TK Maxx (TJ Maxx to us English speakers), another Marks & Spencer, and other stores which also came in handy. Use the underpass to get across the busy Marszałkowska Street.

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Gdańsk, Toruń and Malbork, Poland

City Notes, Europe /

Gdańsk, Toruń and Malbork, Poland City and local notes: Line on Travel’s vignettes of larger cities, well-known attractions, and short trips. I visited Gdańsk, Toruń and Malbork in a single 6-night trip from Warsaw north. That’s not nearly enough time to get a feel for Gdańsk in particular. I regret that in general and also because a young woman on staff at my hotel in Toruń gave me such enthusiastic recommendations for places to see. So, naturally I’ve been thinking of an itinerary to include Gdańsk on a future Baltic trip. Gdańsk Gdańsk is a big city with an “old town” that you can visit in a couple of days. But there’s a lot more to the city than that, and I gave myself too little time in Gdańsk to allow saying much about it. What I can say is that Gdańsk is a large Baltic-facing city that feels different from any other place I visited in Poland. It was a big, rich merchant city for centuries. Then for about 20 years after 1920, the oddly contrived Free City of Danzig. Then pummeled in World War II. The rebuilt city was the birthplace and heart of the Solidarity movement in the 1980s. And today Gdańsk and the nearby beaches and resorts are pretty and vibrant. Strolling along the Dlugi Targ I visited in sunny but chilly mid-October so saved the beaches for another trip. Reception staff at the Mercure Hotel told me to come again in early September when the weather is still nice and most of the tourists have left. But even on a cold October weekend, there were a lot of people strolling along the Dlugi Targ (the Long Market) which is both a square-like gathering place and a way to the river ports. The Gothic and Baroque merchant houses lining the Dlugi Targ have been restored to show the city’s historic wealth as a Baltic trading power. It’s the old town’s place to be. I read a tourist site that compares Dlugi Targ to Las Ramblas in Barcelona. Maybe. I didn’t exactly feel that. It’s Las Ramblas on the Baltic. Many of the sights of interest are along the Dlugi Targ or around a corner. When I visited, the Dlugi Targ was vibrant and crowded. Restaurants I looked into at lunch time were full, restaurant hawkers were still annoying passers-by, and amber sellers touted festoons of suspect jewelry. I visited the helpful Tourist Information Office near the Green Gate by the river (where staff speak good English), had an interesting chat about Gdańsk and the U.S., and bought a “deluxe” tourist map for about U.S. $1.50. This map was my guide to at least seeing the exterior of all the highlighted buildings in my short time there. As one must, I viewed the famous Gdańsk Crane. The Crane is a 15th century hoist for cargo upgraded in the 17th century, blown to pieces in World War II and reconstructed after 1945. It’s unique in Europe, but only takes a short while to visit. Brick Gothic buildings abound around the Baltic Sea with its dearth of available stone for building, and in Poland some of the buildings are the biggest of their kind. Just down the road in Malbork the Teutonic Knights built the biggest medieval castle in the world – perhaps the biggest castle in the world – all of red brick. In Gdańsk, the restored St. Mary’s Basilica is said to be the biggest brick church in the world. I could sense the vastness inside the bright, whitewashed nave. The Gdańsk In Your Pocket Guide says it holds 25,000 people. But it was mainly from my room at the Mercure with its view of the old town that I could see how St. Mary’s dwarfs everything else around. I also went into several other restored churches, including St. Catherine’s, the oldest church in the city. It was begun in the 1200s but badly damaged in World War II. It was restored but unhappily, the church was all but destroyed again in a 2006 fire and is now only partially re-restored. It deserves a visit because of its historic importance and lesson in persistence. The 19th century central market was nearby. There were vegetable stands outside which are always interesting to peruse (buy sunflower seeds still on the flower) but inside there didn’t seem much worth exploring (unless you want to check out the butcher shops on the lower level). I hadn’t gone to another historic church, St. Bridget’s, but decided to duck in on my last evening in town. Please visit St. Bridget’s. Like other churches, the ancient St. Bridget’s was destroyed in World War II. It was finally restored in the 1970s. One of the must-sees in St. Bridget’s is the so-called amber altar. I had envisioned something that looked like a Renaissance or Gothic altar, a table or a block, but this is different, modern, with several large figures carved from amber of different colors arranged among soaring steel bars. The plan is to add more figures. But even more than the altar, the history of the church and Solidarity engaged me. The church supported the striking workers, and murdered priest Jerzy Popiełuszko, who supported Solidarity, is buried in the church. There’s an ongoing video related to Solidarity. The Katyń memorial was also sobering. If you don’t know about the Katyń massacre, give it a quick search online, or for a wrenching and emotional film account, see the Oscar-nominated 2009 film Katyń. Sleeping and eating. The Mercure Hotel where I stayed was at the edge of the old town and I had a panoramic view. I watched the nearly full moon’s progress, the illuminated Ferris wheel and one night, fireworks in the distance. It was an easy walk to the sights and a real prize was a shopping center across the street with a grocery store, a book store and a variety of other shops. And, although I found this near the end of

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Kraków, Poland

City Notes, Europe /

Kraków, Poland City and local notes: Line on Travel’s vignettes of larger cities, well-known attractions, and short trips. With a millennium of Polish royal history and its historic buildings, Kraków is Poland’s biggest tourist attraction. There’s a whole body of Kraków travel literature; this is a short review of some personal highlights. I had about four days there, took two out-of-town excursions, and managed to see the places that were top on my list, though not everything there was to see. My entire focus was on the old town. I hardly ventured into modern Kraków. In the vicinity. Kraków is where you embark for tours of Auschwitz. I did that, and for a lot of reasons don’t think this is the time to write about it. But whatever history you know, or pictures you’ve seen, being there will affect the lives of thoughtful visitors. So go, as hideous as it was. I also took an excursion to the Wieliczka Salt Mine, a shorter trip, the oldest operating salt mine in the world. It’s an interesting place but be aware that you spend a lot of time underground in an atmosphere suffused with sodium chloride. Your lips taste salty when you exit. I didn’t lick my hands or wrists to see how they tasted, but I did lick a wall in the mine when our guide challenged us to test it. The walls and even floor “tiles” are carved from the dark-colored salt; there are chapels, some enormous, with bas relief religious scenes and chandeliers also carved from salt. There are elaborate salt sculptures by mine workers throughout, and of course you can buy anything salt as a souvenir. The guides are dressed in understated but snazzy salt mine uniforms and in his, our tall guide looked like a 19th century cavalry officer instead of tour leader. The magic of uniforms. Back in Kraków Kraków’s monumental buildings are originals. The Nazis planned to make Kraków an eastern capital and installed their man in the castle. Thus the physical city was spared. Along with the architectural monuments, there’s the main market square that’s the largest medieval town square in Europe. It’s hard to see just how big it is because of the expansive Renaissance Cloth Hall right in the center, but walk across and around it to get the feel. When I visited during August, there was a performance of some kind – folk dancers, musicians, singers – every day, even on the rainy day I arrived. The devoted stood around the stage holding umbrellas. The kiosks that appeared daily around the Cloth Hall sold everything Polish that a tourist could want, including lunch, and there was more on offer inside Cloth Hall. Watching a performance on the Market Square There are some beautiful things there but I didn’t buy much. Won’t fit in the suitcase. But color, energy, performers, buskers, lots of tourists and more pigeons – those things I could take away in my memory and photos. Pleasant as it was in the old market, I enjoyed staying a little way apart, not far away, but not in the tourist center. It felt the relaxation every time I walked to my hotel along the busy Karmelicka with its café-au-lait colored buildings. It was like not being a tourist any more. Around the Castle The fine castle on Wawel Hill may be Renaissance, but it has Gothic underpinnings and as a seat of Polish royal power, goes back a millennium. The castle premises was restored after much damage and alteration by the Austrian military when Kraków within the Austrian Empire. But it was undamaged in World War II. You can walk around the large courtyard for free, but you need tickets to get inside any part of the castle or cathedral. Buy castle tickets ahead (there’s an additional reservation fee) or be sure to queue up early to get a time you want if you’re there during tourist season. I stood on line for a while and bought tickets for the next day. Cathedral and castle visits are sold at separate locations, and I only mention this because I was confused at first and saw others who were, too.   The castle architecture is interesting, Gothic remains and Italian Renaissance buildings fitted out with steep slate roofs to shed snow and ice. A transmontane hybrid. Around the castle The castle’s State Rooms tour was self-guided, after which for a modest extra fee you can see Leonardo da Vinci’s Lady with an Ermine. It is phenomenal. Do not skip it! After looking at the picture as long as I could, almost straining my eyes like I could absorb more that way, I went on to my timed, guided tour of the Royal Apartments. That tour was scripted and carefully timed to avoid loitering. Then you’re propelled out, so ask questions when they occur to you, and quickly. But do take the tour. I also took the Architecture and Gardens Tour and found it very interesting, partly because of the engaging woman who led it.  She knew everything about the castle’s history and structure but oddly claimed to know nothing about gardens, at least what’s planted in them. Still, she knew when and how the gardens were laid out, where the historic plants were and she took us through some gardens and areas of the castle that are otherwise closed to visitors. Churches Kraków is a religious center and is full of churches. Of course, there’s the history-laden Wawel Cathedral that you see at the castle. If you’re interested in very big bells, climb the cathedral’s bell tower to see the huge Sigismund Bell, cast in 1520 and nine feet across. I wanted to see most of Kraków’s other churches, too. Each has unique attributes – architecture, artworks, history. St. Mary’s Basilica is the big draw, with its beautiful altarpiece – the largest Gothic altarpiece in the world – its stained glass, hejnał (more later) and location on the market square. It’s

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A Guam Thanksgiving

Pacific /

A Guam Thanksgiving I’m guessing that most people from the U.S. who have vacationed in Guam were drawn there by military friends and family. That’s why I went. But now that I’ve been, I know a lot of reasons to visit Guam – the beautiful beaches, hiking, diving, the tropical sun and flowers. World War II history. Asian, Australian and Russian tourists come to enjoy the natural beauty and the entertainments of Guam USA. You can, too. I went to Guam for a special Thanksgiving with friends. It was a hot day, a view of the Pacific over the palms and chicken adobo for the main course. A refreshing change from chilly weather with turkey and gravy! I enjoyed my Thanksgiving, and my friends devoted the rest of the holiday to making sure that I saw the island’s main attractions – the beautiful, the historical, the interesting and the weird. The beautiful – beaches and a mountain I experienced several beaches, and found that whatever you want in a beach, there’s one for you in Guam – scenic beauty, family-friendly, resort beach, hidden beach. These are my favorites, although it’s hard to choose. Haputo Beach. I couldn’t have found this beach on my own. It’s on Haputo Ecological Preserve (on U.S. Navy property) at the north end of Guam. We drove a steep road down into the trees where we bounced through wheel-swallowing potholes full of water and frogs. Then we walked a jungly, slippery path to the shore. But – wow – white sand, protective cliffs, jungle growing right up to the beach, clouds of black butterflies, red hermit crabs, rusted detritus from a shipwreck – I was in love. Could I ever love another beach? Haputo Beach Asan Beach. This pretty beach along Highway 1 is easy to get to and has good parking. As an extra treat, they say it’s easy to find dark blue starfish here. Kids can find them pretty fast, but it took me a long time, and I’m not sure the one I found was alive. I didn’t nudge it or try to pick it up. Still, I have its picture and even if it was dead, it still looked good. Asan beach is part of the War in the Pacific National Park. Tarague Beach. I’m so fickle. I loved this beach too. More white sand and cliffs, but with rocks and rock pools that I don’t remember from Haputo. Tarague is on Andersen Air Force Base. You’ll need a base pass to visit. Gab Gab Beach. Another pretty beach on a base, this time Naval Base Guam. As with Tarague, you’ll need a base pass. It’s a good family beach, with easy swimming, a three-sided ocean pool and lots of sea life. The day we went to Gab Gab wasn’t pretty though –it was cloudy and then rained. And unhappily, I left my dry clothes at home, so rode back damp, wrapped in towels. It seemed like a long drive, especially with the stop for groceries. I didn’t fall in love again, but give Gab Gab a visit on a nice day and you might. And don’t forget something to change into. Mountain climbing, sort of Mt. LamLam (Lightning) is the highest point on the island. If you consider that its base is in the Marianas Trench 6.8 miles below sea level, it’s the highest gain in elevation on the planet. We decided to climb it. Local people carry crosses up the mountain on Good Friday and flatten the tough six-foot-high grass, which makes it a good time to climb, but nothing like that happens at American Thanksgiving. For the most part we could see a path, although it was steep and rocky in places. And then there was the sword-like grass that was taller than I am. Add on clouds of insects each time we passed under clumps of dwarf trees. We hadn’t really prepared and only got part way up. I was a little embarrassed when a man carrying his son on his shoulders came trotting down from the top. That’s when you then you say, “We should have kept going.” But I’m not ashamed of getting part of the way there, and when we turned to go back, our view was of steep hillsides, tropical greens and the Philippine Sea beyond. Nice. Later on I read that the ridge of the Good Friday crosses is not on Mt. LamLam but on Mt. Jumullong Manglo. You’re on the way to Mt. LamLam, though. I also read on a climbing site that the Mt. LamLam summit is a windy pinnacle that’ll accommodate one person at a time. That person won’t be me. The history – Guam and WWII – War in the Pacific Guam and the surrounding waters were WWII battlefields. Even without trying you’ll see some of Guam’s many WWII sites. For more, you can plan your own tour, or book a guided tour. The War in the Pacific National Historical Park includes former battlefields, gun emplacements, trenches, and historic structures. There is also a small partially open-air Pacific War Museum with vehicles, artifacts and displays. An enthusiastic guide tells visitors that all the museum’s WWII trucks run – stopping is the problem. Wonder how many times a day he says that? The museum has a tidy, homespun quality that made it seem especially poignant. Sergeant Yokoi’s cave – or a replica – is in Talofofo Falls Park. Shoichi Yokoi (1915-1997) was stationed on Guam during the Japanese Occupation. After the U.S. re-took Guam, he hid in the jungle for almost 28 years. Sergeant Yokoi was found in 1972. The interesting – life and culture Guam Museum’s mission includes promoting appreciation of Guam’s culture and natural heritage. The Latte of Freedom is part of the complex. A real latte is a pillar capped by a stone, used as a building support by the Chamorro people. The Latte of Freedom is a very large latte-shaped viewing tower, overly-concrete for me,

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