Bratislava...Adventures at the *Hotel Kjyiev*

by OLGS, guest blogger.




DomTran and I left Vienna Sudbahnhof on the 14:28 for Bratislava. We arrived right on time less than hour later. The trip reminded us of the commuter train from South Station Boston to Worcester, but a little shorter in distance and duration. We took a taxi to our hotel, the "Kiev," which I booked for us on the Internet. DomTran and I knew that the hotel was an old, unrefurbished 1970s communist hotel; we had also read quite a few reviews, most of which noted the shabby carpets and fixtures, but some praising the good breakfast, included with the room.


The "Kiev" is old-fashioned in giving guests a key rather than a card for locking and unlocking the door. The key (shown against the doorlock) weighs about a pound or two and it makes sense to deposit it at the front desk when out and about. Our main critique of the "Kiev" is that only one of the two ancient elevators was in service and as we stayed on a high floor (# 14), we had some lengthy waits. The view, shown at the top, is quite lovely of a European capital that relatively few Americans visit.



By the way, DomTran took care that we always knew the whereabouts of the key. Guests at the "Kiev" are warned of the many possible fines that await them for abuse of property at the hotel. A lost key costs 50 Euros. We were also careful not to vomit in the bathroom, bedroom, or indeed anywhere in the hotel because of the steep fine schedule (see below).






DomTran and I are in Budapest tonight for the Hungarian National Day celebrating St. Istvan and the establishment of the old Hungarian kingdom in the Carpathian basin. We had quite a full afternoon, but must leave now for the Danube-side fireworks. Details tomorrow.

Rain, rain

Apparently my grandfather frequently commented on the tendency of Washington County, Maine, to be foggy, rainy and generally unpleasant, if you want to go to the beach. And it is all those things, as our recent week spent on Kenebec Bay proved. But you really don't want to go to the beach in Washington County. The water temp is generally in the low to mid 60s, so who really cares about the beach?

Roque Bluffs State Park is still one of the loveliest beaches, whether or not you go in the water. OLGS did for about 30 seconds.

One afternoon, when it looked as the the fog might burn off, we went for a quick walk. When we arrived, it was impossible to see more than 50 feet off shore. Within five minutes, the fog lifted, and all the little islands appeared. Then the fog returned.

As we were picking our way down the beach, a girl with a clipboard and a lanyard appeared out of the murk. She was taking a survey about why we visited Roque Bluffs, where we came from and how long we were staying. When I suggested that she had the best summer job in the world, she waved her hand toward the fog and admitted that it was not alway glorious. But she appreciated our Minnesota nice ways--apparently not all visitors to the beach welcome her questions.

Our nation's capital

Another trip, this time to Washington DC for a family event. The event was lovely, but we had time to do a little touristy stuff as well, so we demanded a ride to museum row, aka the Mall. We were dropped off in front of the Smithsonian castle, which is adjacent to the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery and the Freer Gallery of Art. The Sackler is an underground museum, with a stunning selection of Asian art on permament exhibition. A temporary display featured gifts to the Russian empire from Iran and Turkey. If you have a yen to see lots of emeralds, rubies, and tapestries woven from silver and gold thread, take a trip to the Sackler before September, when the exhibit ends. The Freer is a more traditional building and houses a much larger and diverse collection from all parts of Asia.

These museums are free--and there's not even a donation jar or a exhortation to pay something--even $.10, as one of the Joes did when he went to the Metropolitan Museum in New York. Operating these institutions (the collections were almost all donated, but operations are underwritten in part by the government) is one of the best uses of your tax dollars I can think of.

Hillary story, part deux

A quick trip to Washington to attend the confirmation hearing of the sister of OLGS to be an appellate judge in the District of Columbia. Because Congress oversees the district, judicial appointments are made through the same nomination/confirmation process that applies to federal judicial appointments.

It was a remarkable event in many ways. However, there was unusual rock star quality because of the presence of Senator Hillary Clinton, who introduced sis to the committee (a sub-committee of the Homeland Security Committee--still in the hands of Sen. Lieberman, who was not present). Senator Clinton, who may be our next Secretary of State, demonstrated why she almost became president. Even for something as ordinary and probably routine as introducing a friend to her Senate colleagues, Senator Clinton was prepared, charming and articulate. Barak would be well-advised to make use of the talents of this remarkable woman as he tries to do something about our national mess.

And, despite the efforts of a Republican senator who initially objected to sis as too partisan (read too Democratic, even though she was nominated by Current Occupant), it looks like she will be confirmed. More later.

And the other thing about the trip? I discovered the joys of Midwest Express and their leg room and chocolate chip cookies. Now that NWA is no longer a hometown airline, I'm switching. They fly everywhere I want to go.

Washington County, Maine

Before OLGS took off for Hungary and the fleshpots of the spa life, we went down east with my parents. Much revisiting the past--trips to graveyards, a few childhood friends (my parents', not mine), and a few relatives. Washington County is still dirt poor. Still bleak. Still unpopulated. Still beautiful.

We had quite a bit of fog, which was not the case last summer. Our real estate lady informed us that fog is very common in July. As long as you're not driving in the dark on an unfamiliar road, it's quite lovely, keeping everything silent.

We rented a house in Roque Bluffs, which has undergone quite a bit of development, at least for this part of the world. It was perched on a cliff, so there were no beachcombing trips. However, we were close to Roque Bluffs State Park, which has a lovely beach (see above), with hardly anyone on it. At the back of the beach is a big hedge of rugosa roses. The smell is intoxicating.

American in Paris

Joe High School is off to France with his Minnesota accent and 40 of his friends. In preparation, and at the urging of the French teachers who will accompany them, we bought him a pair of black pants to replace his jeans with artfully placed holes. We also bought a new pair of sneakers to replace the Pumas that have molded to his feet and barely contain his toes. The grunge look is fine if you live there, but why feed into ugly--literally--American stereotypes?

Tomorrow we will purchase some native crafts as gifts for his host family, who live near Avignon. I am so envious. Back in the day, high school trips like these were not the norm. Although they are more common, they do not seem to have given us a broader world view. It must take many generations for cultural exchanges like this to have any impact.

Southern food

A quick guide to southern food from the January trip. The main point was to rediscover the glories of Pierce's Pit Barbecue in Williamsburg, VA; we used to eat there a lot in the dark ages. It's North Carolina style, lots of lean, smoky meat, not a lot of sauce, and not too sweet. And the smell around the place was even better than the eating. Some guy said that you can't go home again. Probably recreating your first barbecue love is impossible, too. And Pierce's has morphed into an actual restaurant, rather than the shack that I remember.

The Varsity, in Atlanta. Started in 1928 as a Georgia Tech hangout, it now bills itself as the world's largest drive-in. If you like grease, go there. The barbecue was just OK, but you should go for the scene.

Lek's Railroad Thai in Montgomery, Alabama. The food was good--it's rare to have a bad meal in a Thai restaurant, wherever it is. Of course, being a food snob, I was surprised. And, the bonus is that it's in the old railroad station, and you can watch the freight trains glide through, with exotic locations and long-defunct railroads a reminder of the days when trains mattered.

Capital Inn, in Montgomery, Alabama. Go for the breakfast with grits, biscuits, and bacon.

Sinclair's in Montgomery, Alabama, is supposed to be a place for generation x and y. Our family group, itself populated with generation Y types, ate without incident. I can't remember what we had to eat, except we drank lots of iced tea and coca-cola and the server had a lovely honey-sweet accent. When in Rome...

The Downtowner Restaurant, Selma, Alabama. If you want biscuits for breakfast, go early. When they're gone, they're gone.

St. James Hotel in Selma, Alabama. Go there. Please. It's a lovely gem that is in danger of going under. The main dining room appears to be closed, but the bar, a lovely wood paneled room, was open for the first time in several months the night we were there. We had all kinds of good appetizers, including onion rings, hummus, ceasar salads, and other stuff. The server was nice and attentive, even though the place was buzzing.

The Battlefield Inn, in Vicksburg, Mississippi. It calls itself the best kept secret in Vicksburg. There may be a reason. Vicksburg establishments fight for the tourist dollar, and the Battlefield Inn was no exception. They provide two free drinks for overnight guests, two parrots in cages by the door who will talk occasionally, and an undistinguished dinner and breakfast at a reasonable price. Many of the guests on a Friday night appeared to be locals celebrating the end of the work week.

Ground Zero Blues Club, in Clarksdale, Mississippi. Like the Varsity, the Ground Zero is a place you go to experience, not to eat. The barbecue was so-so, the beer selection pedestrian. But they have a brownie that is quite amazing. The club, owned by actor Morgan Freeman and a local attorney, is dedicated to recreating the atmosphere of a juke joint for the upscale crowd. Interestingly, the band was white, as were almost all the customers. Only the bouncers and cooks were African-American. The night we went, a large crowd celebrating someone's 40th birthday was in attendance. 'Nuff said.

Sonic. Locations throughout the South. The onion rings at the Varsity are better, and that's saying quite a bit.

Civil rights history

When you go to Selma, Alabama, be prepared. Selma is a very poor place, full of derelict storefronts and a long strip outside of town full of junkyards, check cashing places and used furniture stores. There is a nicely maintained synagogue, but we were told that the Jews had all left. Apparently there's an endowment. There are lots of churches, many of which are of the unaffiliated ecstatic persuasion. There's a feed store and mill that also sells pecans for $1.00 a pound unshelled and $1.30 a pound if they run the nuts through the sheller. We bought five pounds.

There's a lovely jewel of a hotel in the midst of this desolation. Apparently city fathers acquired and renovated the St. James Hotel, at the Selma end of the Edmund Pettus Bridge and near the National Voting Rights Museum. The museum has a labor-of-love quality that is kind of endearing. There is a small gift shop, and there are some great photos documenting the three attempts to march from Selma to Montgomery. Only after the death of Rev. Reeb, a Boston Unitarian minister, was enough national attention focused on the efforts of the civil rights marchers to allow the march to happen.

All this is rather depressing but inspiring at the same time. Change is possible, despite the odds.

The civil rights enterprise

On our trip to Atlanta, Selma, Montgomery and Memphis, we visited a number of civil rights shrines. Here's the executive summary of Memphis:


The National Civil Rights Museum, in Memphis, Tennessee. This is the site of the assination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It is a monument to the civil rights movement, albeit with a steep admission price. This was the last museum we visited on our trip, and we had museum fatigue and did not actually go in. Rather, we looked at the balcony where MLK was standing when he was shot. We admired the 1968 cars parked in front of the motel. And we wondered about the makeshift tent across the street, where a women has lived for the last 20 years, protesting the gentrifiction of a still pretty gritty neighborhood and the desecration of King's memory by the museum. Jacqueline Smith was the last resident of the Loraine Motel before it was foreclosed in 1982. She advocates for spending the corporate dollars directed toward the museum on homeless women and their children, using the Loraine Motel as a shelter.

When we parked in a very close-in spot in the parking lot, an attendant came rushing out, asking us to move the car. The reason, we were told, was that it was a bad neighborhood and she couldn't watch our car properly unless it was in her sightlines from her perch under the eaves of the museum. The whole thing was somewhat surreal. We did not go to Graceland.

Journey to the southland

OLGS, the three Joes, and I had a post-New Year's trip to the south. This was not a trip where we lay on a beach and drank pina coladas. Rather, it was educational, like most of the stuff that goes on here at the headquarters of domestic tranquility.

The theme of the trip was Civil War-Civil Rights. We visited Atlanta, Tuskeegee, Montgomery, Selma, Vicksburg and Memphis. We also had a non-program detour to Clarksdale, MS, home of the delta blues. Finally, we visited Maxwell Air Force Base to collect some info. about my dad's unit in WWII.

We did all of this in five days. And I've had enough barbeque, bacon, biscuits, grits and sugary tea to last a while.

Washington County, Maine

View of Lubec from West Quoddy Station

West Quoddy Lighthouse

Dennys River, Dennysville

OLGS and I (and an old school friend who joined us at the last minute), visited Washington County, Maine, the easternmost county in the United States. We went to eat lobster, soak up some of the amazing light, and see whether we wanted to buy or build a second home for our sunset years. Those are fast approaching....

The trip was a disaster as far at getting there was concerned, all thanks to Northwest Airlines. We missed the connection in Detroit because of weather, and couldn't even get to Bangor until 11:00 PM, so went to Portland instead and drove to Bangor. Coming home, we landed in Minneapolis 30 minutes early, and then sat on the runway for 40 minutes because lightning at the airport pulled all the jetway and ground crew workers inside. And they lost our luggage on the inbound leg of the trip.

Frustrating, but being delayed did give us a chance to eat at the Eagle's Nest in Brewer. There are large people eating large portions of food, all enjoying the nice view of the Penobscot River. We saw no eagles, but we did see some otters or muskrats swimming against the tide--if such animals actually venture into salt water. Dinner was really, really, good. The menu calls the lobster roll the "famous" lobster roll. It is deservedly famous.

We had lobster every day while in Maine. Interestingly, the best was in Brewer at the Eagle's Nest and on our way home, in Hallowell, Maine, near the state capital in Augusta. There we had some really good lobster stew. Both Bangor and Hallowell are interior cities, and not on the coast. And did I mention that we stayed in the Coast Guard station near the lighthouse?

Washington County is very poor, as it has been since the lumber industry moved west to Wisconsin and Minnesota. Half of the land and buildings are for sale. This makes it good for folks from away, like ourselves. They need our money; we need their lobster and their light and their access to the sea, which is all around them. And in the real estate agent's office, when we acknowledged we were from Minnesota, we received an outpouring of sadness for the victims of the bridge.

Boston and points west

Another trip, this time to Boston to visit the old folks. My frequent flyer miles on NWA are getting up there. And, speaking of NWA, Terminal E at Logan, into which Northwest flies, is almost complete. It's only been 15 years.

Signs of the times: on the Massachusetts Turnpike, there are notices every quarter mile announcing the forthcoming toll booths, with an exhortation to provide correct change. However, the signs neglect to tell you the amount of the toll. Am I missing something? Or is this yet another example of "If you have to ask, you don't belong here?"

Ground Zero from the 37th floor

Another trip to New York, this time courtesy of those nice folks in Eagan, where I was accomodated at a fine Hilton hotel abutting Ground Zero. From the 37th floor, the hole in the ground was filled with little ants, toy PATH trains, and Tonka trucks pointlessly moving earth around in anticipation of another monument to capitalism.

And that is the point. Current Occupant shamelessly used the events of September 11, 2001, to give himself a free ride for the next four years, telling lies, invoking false memories, and playing to the worst in the American psyche. We are better than this, and should not be goaded into war by toys and by boys like the Current Occupant who play with them. The number who want to play with him is diminishing, but he does have all the marbles, so there are some who will continue to play just to stay in the game, engaging in the military-industrial equivalent of tearing the wings off flies.

Joe College Grad visited briefly, after telling me he was not feeling well and was going to bed. I returned from a lovely evening with the client to find, like Goldilocks, that someone was sleeping in my bed, watching my TV, and eating from my minibar. He was feverish and should not have come, but it was great to see him. He's counting the days until his gig at PS107 ends. Getting through the University of Chicago in four years is nothing compared to the challenge of teaching in the NYC public schools.

It is easy to focus on the personal and local, ignoring the damage we have wrought throughout the world. But when I remember those middle class Iraquis who are living in squalor in Syria, and whose dreams for their own children are now unattainable, it doesn't bear thinking about. They don't have the luxury we do, of ignoring the disaster that is the Middle East, complaining about the price of gas, and scheming to get our kids into Duke. This is not a game to them, and it should not be to us.

My excellent adventure in New York

Don't let anyone tell you that New Yorkers are cold, unhelpful, etc. Not true. In fact, they love to show off. If you are befuddled about the bus cards (no money is allowed for bus fare--you have to purchase a card), they jump in. If you want to know which subway goes where, they are delighted to tell you.

OLGS and I went to NYC for a very quick visit, ostensibly to help Joe College Grad with some stuff, but that was an excuse. We went to the theater, had wonderful bus rides, ate in little Italy, visited Orchard Street (see photo, left), and had lunch with long lost relatives. OLGS did some family history research at City Hall (incidentally, a beautiful building). We visited ground zero and St. Paul's Church nearby. All this and more we did in less than three days.

New York is expensive, so take plenty of cash or a well-funded credit card. And, if you can avoid it, don't fly into Kennedy. The cheap air fare is offset by the fact that it costs a fortune in time and money to get there.

Houston, Texas, and the country mouse

It's not often that I feel like a hick from the country. I've lived in New York, have visited DC frequently, and usually feel as if I'm dressed appropriately and am using the correct fork. However, I went to Houston this week. And felt like the poor relation from the outback. The women dress. Really dress. And they shop. And they wear LOTS of jewelry. And they shop some more.

Of course, the good part about Houston is that everyone is friendly and polite. That goes a long way. But I still can't forgive them, and the state at large, for giving us the Current Occupant, no mater how chastened he appears at present. They really should have stuck to shopping. The world would be a better place.

Romania and USCIS

In the wake of 911, our government no longer represents the people. It represents itself, and that is quite different. Here's a case in point:

My church, a large Unitarian Universalist congregation in St. Paul, has a partner relationship with a Unitarian village in Romania. Our tradition is to bring people here every other year. We have brought the minister of the Transylvanian village church, and an elderly couple who had never been on an airplane until they visited us in 2002. We had hoped to bring two younger couples to visit us this year. Guess what: they were turned down by USCIS (United States Citizenship and Immigration Service) after travelling over the mountains to the US Consultate in Bucharest. Because they did not have "compelling" (USCIS language, not mine) reasons to return to Romania, the two couples were denied visas.

What is "compelling"? You might well ask. These folks are substantial village citizens, church-goers, land owners, and parents. This was not enough for the United States, which apparently fears that these Romanians will become a drain on the body politic. On appeal, the USCIS reversed itself, offering a compromise. The two women can come to the US, leaving their menfolk behind, adding to the existing hostages--children, the farm animals, the house, the barn, the parents, and the jobs.

Is this retalliation for the Romanian president having the temerity to ask the US to drop visia requirements? Whatever the reason, this is pretty sad. But they are coming, which is great. I hope we can show them that not all US citizens are afraid and that our present government's fearmongering is not representative.

Portugal

Since it's been almost a month since Joe High School, OLGS, and I returned from Scotland via Portugal, it seems appropriate to note that Portugal is wonderful. On the Algarve, it's rather touristy, full of Brits and Germans. There are so many Brits that there is a weekly newspaper for British expats. But it's a low key kind of tourism, at least in Salema, where we stayed. The Algarve is full of beautiful beaches. And in May, it was neither too hot nor too crowded. I suspect that changes. But the beach was lovely, the dark brown faces of the fishermen were the same as they were thirty years ago, and the food and drink were great. Be adventurous. Try octopus. I did, and it tastes like nothing at all except the broth in which it's cooked. And, the climate is Mediterranean dry, which means that permanent minor allergies caused by oak trees, maple trees, and all other kinds of northern climate flora, are gone. I didn't realize it until we returned to the land of the oak tree, but there are significant health beneifts to visiting Portugal. I'll proably have to return.

No more churches

Looing back at the Scotland posts of the blog, it appears that the highlights of the trip for me were all the churches we visited. And, they are great--you get architecture, music, spirituality (maybe), and quiet all rolled up in a nice package. But right now European churches are more places of tourist visitation than of worship and contemplation. In this they are very dfferent from US religious buildings--as a highly religious nation, up there with various Islamic countries in terms of per capita religious observance, we use our churches for services and close them the remainder of the time. Kind of different--in UK churches with lots of visitors--St. Paul's, London, for example--they try to keep tourists out during services, or require you to attend to get gawking time. Churches are museums, monuments to ancient times, and viewed as such by the majority of the population, few of whom are observant. Welcome back to the US, where we have ugly churches and lots of religious fervor. I'm going to avoid both for a while.

Bye-bye Scotland

Leaving Scotland for a week of R & R in Portugal was kind of an anticlimax--we had to return to Edinburgh get the plane to MSP. And we departed flying steerage, aka Ryanair. Ryanair is a Dublin-based low-cost airline. They keep costs down by skimping on a few triffles, such as jetways, free sodas, and desk staff at checkin, which, consequently, takes about 1.5 hours just to get a boarding pass. And then there's the mess at the Dublin airport, which was not built to handle the volume of people now passing through. And, Ryanair forces you to go through Dublin customs in order to get a second boarding pass for the next leg of your trip--you cannot do through bookings. In other words, do not take Ryanair unless you're really desperate. And they make Northwest/KLM seem almost luxurious by comparison.

Evensong at St. Mary's Cathedral

We went to sung evensong at St. Mary's Cathedral in Edinburgh. They sing evensong every day, which is pretty amazing. St. Mary's is a typical 19th century pile with an endowment that allows it to provide choral scholarships to the choir school, and they allow girls to sing, which apparently is a big deal. Anyway, evensong on the day we went was pretty much plainsong with a very short choral anthem and the Magnificat song chorally. The congregation consisted of six people. I saw only one girl in the choir.