Saturday, April 25, 1998

I get up, have breakfast and take the bus back into Rome for another day of walking and looking around. Today is Liberation Day in Italy. I find myself in a large square watching a formal ceremony in front of a large official looking building, I think it is the Tomb of the Soldier Memorial. There are many observers and lots of police to keep order. It's a bright sunny day. We stand in the sunshine watching while different groups of soldiers march into position. As an Army brat, I've seen lots of military marching. These fellows have not been practicing their drills. It is an interesting ceremony to watch. The monument has a large, tall staircase to the top. First the different military groups march in. Each unit of troops marches up the stairs to their positions. When all are in place, up roll the limousines filled with dignitaries and other important persons. Of course a band is playing suitable ceremonious music. Speeches are made, a wreath is laid, honors presented and then the dignitaries return to their limousines. With their departure, the ceremony ends.

I continue wandering and find the street of fancy boutiques that I had hoped to share with Mom. I feel lonely. All the stores are closed for the holiday. It doesn't matter because this is a place for window-shopping. I buy some postcards and find a sunny place to sit. The Spanish Steps are festooned with flowers. I write my postcards while other tourists climb and stop and photograph and sit. We enjoy the wonderful sunshine and flowers of spring. It is a great place to people watch, smell the flowers and think of friends and family as I write my postcards. I wonder what it will be like when I get home. I am well over the halfway point of my journey. I don't want to return to doing the same things but what do I want to do? Worrying about it now won't solve anything. I've got a week before I meet Father for our time in Ukraine.

This trip to Ukraine is something I've wanted to do for a long time. It's a chance to see where he was born. The place is such a presence and secret in my life. He will meet me in Budapest. Then we will take a train to Ukraine. As usual Father is vague in his timing, never wanting to close out options with a definite plan. Mom's advice is to pick a place I want to be and then let him sort it out. I take her advice. I've heard Hungary is an interesting place. In the meantime, my plan is to take my time and head north. First I will go back to Sienna. It seems like a nice town to explore. From my tour book I pick one of the hotels and call ahead for a reservation. I'm getting less comfortable with the random approach to traveling. There are more tourists and many of the hotels are booked or very expensive. Preplanning makes a difference.

It is my fourth and last night in this comfortable hotel outside of Rome. I'm a solo traveler again, somewhat recovered after the whirlwind tour of Italy with Mom. It was exhausting. Between the go go pace, Mom and the other folks, it was too much for me. I got wobbly toward the end. Sometimes I need to do things at my own pace. It was a great trip for Mom and I. Before she left, Mom asked me if I am happy with my journey, is it meeting my expectations? I told her yes. I don't have clear expectations about what this trip should be but I am doing what is right for me. I want to prove I can do it. I want to move beyond my comfort zone of work and Silicon Valley. I want to expand, to loosen up and know more of myself. I think I am doing all of those things. I am sensitive but even so I learn to protect and take care of myself.

Sunday, April 26, 1998

I make my way to the station and catch the train to Sienna. It is Sunday morning on a holiday weekend, the natives rest. Having a few days in one place to recuperate was great. I had time to read a tacky book, luxuriate in the bath, and sit in the sun. Now it's on to the next adventure. The train ride is nice. During the tour, Marco made many disparaging remarks about the Italian rail and postal service. I've got no complaints. In Sienna, I check in to my hotel and then head out for an exploration walk. I end up in the main square enjoying a gelato with great pleasure. The cafe's location provides a front row seat to watch the world go by. After finishing my treat, I notice a crowd starting to gather in the main square and find spot in the sun to observe the goings on. Eventually the entire square is filled with people. It is another holiday weekend civic ceremony. Sienna's version of the festivities is even more colorful. Military troops march to the rumble rat-tat-tat of drums. But the real show is the flag waving groups that represent the different city wards. The competition between wards or contrade, is fierce. Every summer, there are two all or nothing bareback horse races around the central square. The winner rules. Today they are just strutting their stuff. It makes for a grand parade.

My hunger overwhelms me. I search for a small café to get a snack but they are all closed. My stomach clock is not the same as Italians. They eat too late for me. In desperation I go to McDonalds and am pleasantly surprised. It has a much better range of fresh food than they serve in the U.S. A nice salad and roll brings me back to normal. I continue to make the mistake of waiting too long to get food. Eventually I end up a crazy person running on empty but still to picky to just eat anything, oh well. One of the flag-waving, costumed contrades marches to a building right next to McDonalds. I watch them parade and prance accompanied by families and supporters.

Monday, April 27, 1998

Loneliness haunts me. I wonder what I am doing with all this traveling. Stubbornness keeps me going. Today's adventure is to the scenic hill town of San Gimignano. I've figured out where to get the bus and get on with ticket in hand. The ride is through beautiful, lush countryside, ripe with spring green. The views of the hills and small towns are dramatic. A variety of local people get on and off the bus. My tour book says the ride is about an hour and a half. After almost two hours I ask where the town is and find out that I should have changed busses way back when. Oh my. I get off at the next town and try and figure out what to do. I am very sad, and have a cry in frustration. I wish I knew why I feel so shaky, but I'm having a hard time with all of this today. It's a combination of body chemistry being off and feeling deserted by the travel fairy. Today, it is difficult to go with the flow. Later things will improve, but for now, sigh.

I wander around this little hill town for a while, get myself some fruit and then wait for the bus to take me back. Chalk this day up to a scenic ride in the country. The best thing for me is to sit and watch it all go by. I get back to Sienna and find a place to eat on one of the side streets. It looks busy and popular with the locals. They find me a place on a long table with what looks like workers having their midday meal. I point and say I'll have the soup and salad that they are having. It looks good and tastes good too. Food to feed the body and soul. I am nourished by my meal and the friendly service of the waitress.

Cyberspace has landed almost everywhere. I manage to find an internet place and get connected with the world. I've gotten pretty good at figuring out where internet connections can be found. This one is a single computer in a balcony at the back of a record store. I start at the city info counter. A woman there knows of someone who knows of someone else and eventually I manage to get online. It will be interesting to see how fast this internet business catches on. It's going fast already.

I'm not as rested as I thought so I give myself time for reading and sleeping. It's drizzling too, another incentive to slow down and hibernate.

Tuesday, April 28, 1998

There is not much more I want to see in Sienna. I'd like to come back and rent a house in the country, maybe in one of the small hill towns. Have a lazy time with friends getting to know the area. For now, it's time to continue my journey north. My planning is influenced by the places I stay. My room in Sienna is nice and comfortable, but it is stark. The people working or staying here don't make eye contact. I feel invisible. Plus, my room is above a bus stop. I am a princess about street noise, so why not move on?

In my book of fancy hotels is a listing for one in Bavaria that looks interesting. I get on the train and head north through Switzerland. I'm not exactly sure where I'll end up tonight. It will work out just fine. It's hard to be on my own all the time. Most people my age are busy raising families and working. They don't have the time or resources to go off traveling. I feel in limbo land. I'd like to share this with another person, to be in a relationship, part of a team. Some day that will be the case. From experience I know that marriage can be even lonelier than being single. For now, I enjoy the countryside that goes by the window, planted fields in their springtime glory. I daydream about what to do with the landscaping in my own yard back home. It is time to make a special garden. Hopefully I can find a good landscaper when I get back.

Maybe I'll get a dog too. I've noticed Italians walking their pets. Even Marco's wife brought her little dog along with her on their trip, smuggling her in and out of countries and hotels. I've wanted a dog for a long time but the travel has kept me from getting one. When I get back, I may not feel the same need to travel. Who knows, maybe the dog can go along for the ride, at least in the U.S.

 

Walking down a path on a wonderful spring day.

Our train continues North and gains altitude as we go through the mountains of Switzerland. Sunny farmland gives way to misty mountains and eventually snow. Brrr, I am glad I'm inside the train. It is wonderful to watch the vistas as they change. Eventually, our train arrives in Germany. I get out to change to a local train. After a conversation with a helpful tourist information person, I alter my destination for one much closer. There won't be such a long wait for the next train. The man at the info counter calls and makes a reservation for me at a good hotel. I feel more welcome in Germany than it Italy. Italy seems overrun with tourists. The Italians are not refusing the tourist revenue, but their attitude is "take it or leave it". They take your money then you can leave. The Germans have been helpful, welcoming and even smile! Many of them speak English very well. Everything is clean and punctual.

I arrive at my destination, Prien a Chiemsee, a resort area on a large Bavarian lake. It is beautiful and my hotel is right on the lake. I have a simple dinner and then gratefully get some rest in a comfortable feather bed. My room is cozy, quiet, clean, and wood trimmed in pine. Things have a way of working out.

Wednesday, April 29, 1998

Today is a lazy relaxing sort of day. I get up and have a leisurely bath. After breakfast, a bus takes me to the main part of town to for exploring. It's time to mail another package home. No need to lug around books and extra stuff. The town is clean, bright and tulips are blooming in tidy flower gardens. I walk around the streets, window-shopping and getting my morning exercise. It feels good to walk, look and breathe the fresh air. There are few people around. It's not deserted but it's not very busy either. I have a nice lunch then walk back to my hotel. The air is invigorating and the houses and neighborhoods are interesting. This is a resort and health town. People come here for various treatments in the spa/clinics. Artwork from patients hangs in one of the windowed lobbies of what looks like a clinic.

My afternoon is a lazy blend of napping and reading. Afterward I take another walk along the lake before having a dinner in the hotel restaurant. This is very civilized and relaxing.

Thursday, April 30, 1998

It is the end of April already, how time flies. Four months have gone by, one more month to go. Part of me wants to keep going on and on, another part could go home today. No matter, I'm traveling on, enjoying my time here and looking forward to my adventures with Father in a few days. Today I take a boat ride to explore the lake. There is a ferry service that goes to an island in the middle of the lake with a castle, to the town on the other side of the lake and then back. It's another lovely spring day. Things are so much better when the sun is out.

The boat ride is lovely, with vistas across the lake and the snow-capped mountains in the distance. I could almost start yodeling or singing but I spare fellow passengers my exuberance. There are a number of early travelers enjoying the excursion. My first stop is the island castle, another example of what money can build. I go for a tour of the castle. The tour is in German; the English version starts in a few hours. The building is interesting, but I prefer the gardens and taking pictures. Overall, I'm taking fewer pictures than when I first started the trip. I'd rather just look. I'm here experience and observe. Today feels like a day to make images, to have fun with the camera recording statues and trees and flowers and fields. How will they all turn out? Even though I've taken lots of pictures, I know there are never enough, or too many of strange things and not enough of the right things. Ultimately, I remember these experiences with my mind. That happens without a camera, but journals and cameras help jog the memory.

 

Statue at an island castle in Chiemsee

After wandering the grounds of the island I catch the ferry to the next town. We make a stop at another island then continue. The bigger town will have more options for lunch. When we arrive, I look around and find a picturesque, waterfront restaurant for lunch. It is sunny and warm on the porch. I watch the early season activity. I order a very German Weinershniztle. My meal is a huge double portion of fried mystery meat next to a heap of french-fries and accompanied by a salad. There is enough food for a week. No wonder everyone is robust here. I eat what I can, enjoying it and then take a boat back to my hotel. After resting, it's time for a walk along the lake. I head in the opposite direction from yesterday's explorations. I'm looking for place for dinner, but find a phone booth instead. A phone call home let's me know how everyone is. All is well. I am fit with the walking. I return for dinner in my hotel and an early night.

 

Fun with dandelions and a tree in Chiemsee.

Friday, May 1, 1998

Originally, I had hoped to spend the weekend in Budapest, but the hotel I had in mind is not available until Sunday. So, I will continue east and stay in Vienna for the weekend. Why not? The train ride is interesting. I share a cabin with a younger couple from Philadelphia. They have left their young son with grandparents while they are on vacation. We swap travel stories. It is nice to have someone to talk to. In Vienna, I am lucky to get a hotel room in a decent place. Everything is booked for the May Day weekend. There are more holidays in Europe. The difference is they actually take time off to enjoy them. In the U.S. we are too busy working on important things to stop and do something as trivial as take a break. The hotel desk at the train station finds a place for me, takes payment for the first night and sends me on my way with directions. It's great to get such good help. The hotel is fine. I deposit my things then go out for a stroll to survey the city.

The weather is wonderful and spring like. The parks are bursting with flowers and pedestrians enjoying the sunshine. It's one of those "great to be alive" days. The route I have plotted on my tourist map takes me through several parks. I stop for a hot dog from a street vendor and sit on the grass to enjoy the local cuisine. It's more like a polish sausage on a roll with a healthy dab of mustard along the side. I walk and walk, through parks, past historic buildings and neighborhoods. It's a busy city, people seem more reserved, everyone going to and from work or other appointments. Eventually I make it back to my hotel for dinner and a good night sleep.

Anticipation of more family togetherness has me contemplating relationships with my parents. What things I learned from them influence this trip? My sense of reserve and the inner critic keep me safe. Openness to new situations, flexibility, resourcefulness and creativity gives me courage and the ability to keep on going and enjoy myself. In the end, like any child, I want my parents to be proud and happy with my accomplishments. My dilemma is to be me without second-guessing what they think or expect. To trust who I am is who they love, not my convoluted attempts at perfection. It's a challenge to spend a lot of time with any one person, especially a parent. I look forward to adventures with my Dad what ever they might be!

Saturday, May 2, 1998

The day is overcast in the gray way that spring days can be. The flowers promise more days of sunshine. In the meantime, I button up my coat and head out for more exploration. This morning I'm off to check out the local produce market and weekend flea market. It's always fun to see the food and check out treasures lurking amongst the junk piles. The sites and smells are wonderful. Everything is displayed to catch the eye; ripe fruit and vegetables, flowers, sweets and pastries, sacks filled with herbs, and sausages on the grill. There is a smorgasbord of nationalities, from Austrians, to Eastern European, Turks and Middle Easterners. Shops sell foods specific to the each nationality, what a feast. I stop in a coffee shop for a tea and something small to eat. The shoppers and the market interactions provide lively entertainment.

Across the street at the flea market are the usual postcards, fabrics, jewelry, and loads of other old stuff and collectibles that inhabit most flea markets. There are some interesting things that catch my eye, art deco and art nouveau pieces, but I'm not looking for anything in particular. Plus, any purchase must be lugged or shipped home.

One of the hotels in my book is a resort that looks very different, designed by a man named Hundertwasser. Vienna has two of his buildings, a Museum and apartment building. The museum is a different topsy-turvey place. Straight lines are crooked. The sides of the building are a checkerboard of black and white interspersed with color. It is very irregular and I like it a lot. Inside are collections of his work, including information on his architectural projects as well as his graphic art and paintings. I have a lunch in the courtyard. It too is all akimbo. The floors in the building are not level. They curve up at different points to meet the walls. It's visually very interesting although I'm nervous about tripping on the uneven floor. After the museum, I go the few blocks to see the apartment building. The same concepts of irregularity are combined in living spaces complete with rooftop park. It's an unusual place to live.

The facade of the Hundertwasser Museum in Vienna.

My wanderings take me past yet another cyber café. Time for one last email before moving on. The monitors for the computers are in the tables under glass. I sit on a barstool, have my mandatory drink and email away. The computers and internet access are integrated into the restaurant. It limits conversation. Computer cruisers are locked in on their connection. There are non-computer tables with people who actually talk to each other while enjoying their afternoon snacks. As usual, I feel better with the emails from home. It would be nice to share a meal in a good restaurant instead of eating isolated. Soon I will have company.

Sunday, May 3, 1998

On to Budapest, I'm looking forward to it. I'm not quite sure when Father will turn up but he has all the information. I pack and get a taxi to the train station from my hotel. As the train moves east I have an interesting conversation with a fellow from South Carolina. He is going to Hungary to open a factory using some of the older equipment from his plastics factories. The older molds that are out of fashion in America can be used here to produce plastics for sale throughout Eastern Europe. He tells stories about his business and children. He says things are changing rapidly in this part of the world. It's a challenge to do business with foreign companies. It turns out we are staying in the same hotel so he offers me a lift in his taxi.

The hotel is a grand place with indoor mineral spring swimming pools. The magazine articles I've read and the pictures show quite an elaborate building and spa. Many of the locals come here to enjoy the restorative powers of the thermal baths. I think it will be fun to try them out. I've checked into my room and am back at the front desk asking about places to exchange money when I hear a hearty hello and turn to see my Father!

He is his wonderful boisterous self. We hug, being happy to connect so easily. It turns out that he arrived at almost the same time as I did on an overnight train from L'viv, Ukraine. We exchange my single room for a double and go up to talk and relax and connect and enjoy each other's company. It is great to be together.

 

Father and I ready for the baths in Budapest.

Eventually we make our way to the baths on the other side of the hotel. We figure out the rituals of bathrobes and back stairs to get to the men's and women's entrance. Inside is an opulent place, a wonder of tile and water. There are pools in the women's area and then a larger pool in the coed area. The ceilings are tall and tiled. It is all very impressive. We sit in the warm water, relaxing, talking and catching up. Father tells me the news from home and his describes his travel adventures to date. I talk about where I've been and what I've been doing and seeing.

Eventually it's time to get out. We get dressed and make our way, via the bus, back to the train station. It turns out that the taxi drivers have quite a rip-off racket going on. They try and bargain with the unsuspecting traveler for overpriced fairs. When the smarter traveler insists on a metered ride, the driver says okay, and off you go. After arriving at your destination, you realize that the meter was rigged. The ride was a lot more than it should be.

We negotiate the halls and ticket counters at the station to purchase tickets for the next train to Ukraine. We'll leave tomorrow night on the overnight train to L'viv. It doesn't seem real that I'm actually going to go. I've had a lifetime of untold stories about the place. There are the mysteries and myths of the former Soviet Union. Who are these people, what are they like?

We have a nice walk in the late afternoon, stopping for a snack in the familiar of Burger King. My dad likes it and mostly I'm glad to talk and not worry about what or where to eat. As we make our way back toward the hotel, we go past the main street with stores and coffee shops and restaurants. It's a colorful place. There are a good number of people milling around enjoying the early evening. I like looking at all the colorful embroidery in the tourist shops. There are peasant blouses, skirts, dolls and tablecloths. We select one for the woman that helps my Father with his project. It is time to return to our hotel and get some sleep.

Monday, May 4, 1998

We get up and after breakfast have some more time in the baths. I could get used to this, wonderful morning relaxation. I stay a while in the women's private pool. A group of four younger women practice harmonizing. Their voices reverberate within the vaulted ceilings of the pool. It looks like these women come here regularly. The rituals of this place are funny to me. When you enter the women's area, there is an older lady, I think she's the matron that watches out for things. She assigns a changing stall and gives you a key and a towel. I leave my robe, lock the door and go on my way. It's like being in an old movie. I feel like I've stepped back in time to the days of spas and taking the waters at elegant European spa resorts. All I need is a beaded dress and a feather boa to change into when I retire for cocktails in the lounge. I connect with Father in the coed pools and we sit and talk. We share details of our trips so far and he lets me know the plans that are in place for our time in Ukraine.

Eventually we get dressed and head out to look around. There is a place to make our phone calls and send faxes. I imagine this could be done in our hotel, but maybe the post office is cheaper. It's a game we both play. It's also an excuse to go looking around and "gathering information". The rain makes it less appealing to wander around. We have a nice lunch in what claims to be an authentic Hungarian restaurant. The food is fine, Hungarian goulash and bread.

It is time to gather our things from the hotel and make our way to the train station. We get water, bananas and picnic snacks for our journey. Our train is waiting. We find our car and the correct compartment and settle in. I am filled with nervous anticipation.