I got a Father’s Day telephone call yesterday from our estranged son Ron. How unexpected and how nice!
This is Ron with his current family:
It was the first conversation that Ron and I have had in many years; I don’t know what came over him. Guilt, perhaps.
He and his wife Allister excommunicated Charlie and I many years ago, along with his three brothers, his young son Alex, and two stepsons, for reasons known only to him. It’s a sorry situation, but it’s Ron’s choice; he has to live with his decisions.
Back in the late Eighties, when Ron was around 20, a happy member of our family, and was in the Air Force stationed in Great Britain, Charlie and I did a European vacation with him. His call yesterday brought back many memories of that trip. The three of us had a great time.
After arriving in London, Charlie and I saw many of the big tourist sites: Big Ben, Westminister Abbey, the Tower of London, the “Tube” (subway), the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, etc.
One thing I remember about Westminster Abbey is that there are a lot of dead people in there, in fancy marble coffins, in crypts, and right under your feet, with horizontal tombstones made from marble. Its possible to walk on the headstone of Stephen Hawking, for example, and other notable Brits. Interesting, but creepy.
The British Museum is loaded with booty looted from foreign countries when the British Empire was in full flower. Nowadays, it is considered totally gauche to steal irreplaceable cultural artifacts from other countries, but 100 years ago…you came, you saw, and you looted.
The Tower of London is a dark and forbidding place. Enemies of the Crown were imprisoned and killed there, so there are dungeons, torture equipment, suits of armor, and weapons galore.
And, guys in funny outfits, ready to spear tresspassers and no-goodniks.
The Crown Jewels are also kept in the Tower.
We only had a day or two, so we had to keep moving. Lots of neat stuff to see in London, though; we’ll have to come back.
I recall going to a movie cinema one night, and they had an intermission in the middle of the showing. Everyone retreated to the lobby to get snacks and drinks…alcoholic ones, too. You could get a glass of wine, a cocktail, a pint of ale, etc. Why not? It seemed a very civilized thing to do.
Once we hooked up with Ron, we headed out to Stonehenge, which is just off of a highway, out in the boonies.
And then we proceeded on to the old Roman town of Bath, named for the ancient steam baths. It is one of the most beautiful English cities, filled with cool architecture.
From Bath, we turned around and headed out for the east coast of England. We visited a seaside pub somewhere for lunch and I enjoyed Fish and Chips and room temperature pint of lager. Very good, actually.
We got a chance to stroll around the very pretty town of Canterbury…
… and then headed off for the white cliffs of Dover.
Now, this was back before the “Chunnel” tunnel under the sea to France, so we had to take an actual “slow boat” to Calais from Dover. It took all night, we had to nap in hard plastic seats, the slow, old tub was rocking back and forth, and…it sucked.
When we got to Calais, France, and were going through immigration, Ron realized that he forgot his French visa, so he was probably going to be denied entry to France. A catastrophe! Luckily, right as we got near the head of the immigration line, a guy in front of us projectile barfed while being interviewed by French authorities, and the flummoxed official rushed us through the portal, not checking for Ron’s visa. Thank you, Jesus!
We were all traveling very light, had EuroRail passes, and intended to stay at the cheapest hotels that we could find in our “Europe on $50 per day” handbook. We rode the train to Paris, Charlie took a nap at our fleabag hotel on our miniature beds, and Ron and I went down the street to a McDonald’s and each of us ordered up a cheeseburger. Travolta was correct: it was the best food that we’d had in a week.
The Louvre was closed (on a Tuesday?), but we had a chance to hit one of the great pastry shops…
… and mosey on over to the Eiffel Tower. Charlie chickened out; wouldn’t go to the top. (I think she went to the lower terminal.) Ron and I took the elevator to the top and enjoyed the views; spectacular!
We took the train from Paris to Rome, where we boarded at a small hotel across the street from Basilica of St. Mary Maggiore.
The basilica is considered one of the “Big Four” in Rome, where there are churches on every corner. It was our first sighting of a Roman Catholic cathedral and we were awed by the architecture and art. There were paintings by Titian on wall, for God’s sake.
It also houses, if you can believe it, a few wooden planks from Jesus’ manger. (HaHa, some Arab flim flam man made a few bucks from that Medieval con!)
We then traipsed around the Roman Forum…where Julius Caesar was stabbed…
… and the Colosseum (where I fell into a 5 foot hole in the sidewalk!).
The stadium complex was designed so that gladiators and animals could be brought to the surface of the arena via a network of tunnels.
What magnificent places those must have been back in the day; it’s not hard to imagine chariots, gladiators fighting each other, and Senators dressed in togas. We gave this tourist attraction an enthusiastic “Thumbs up”, despite my near death.
We then decided to take the subway out to the Catacombs (i.e. the underground burial tombs that had been looted over the centuries by various Popes, with the bones sold as “relics” to the faithful) . However, once we were below ground, about ready to board the subway train, there was a terrorist alert, and everyone had to evacuate the facility. We ran like scared rabbits up and out…and then heard a loud “bang”.
So much for the Catacombs.
The next day we took the subway out to the Vatican, where we explored the ostentious place, paid for by billions of tithes from poor people all over the world.
What over-the-top, boastful exuberance there is on display there; 24K gold inlay edging, expensive tile everywhere, marble columns 100’ high, fine statuary, lots of guys walking around in clerical collars, vestments, and hoods, looking holy, and menacing Swiss Guards in ridiculous gaudy, costumes, etc.. It is an amazing place, to say the least.
We took stairs up onto the roof…
…and stood next to the Apostles standing guard there, looking out over the enormous square. Very intimidating, I’m sure, for the faithful who gather to see the Pope.
We then explored the Vatican Museum. It is chock full of loot that was purloined from sacred sites all over the Roman Empire. In addition, it houses a lot of religious art that was commissioned by the Church…like the Sistine Chapel. In order to appreciate that place, you must lie on your back and look up at the ceiling to enjoy Michaelangelo’s masterwork. It’s quite breathtaking.
After our viewing, we had a slice of cold pizza just around the corner…room temperature is how they serve it, good but expensive. (Which reminds me: Restaurant food is exorbitant in Rome: we ate a lot of bread, cold cuts, and water.)
As I recall, we took a very early train to Naples the next morning. Downtown was very cold and forbidding, with lots of swarthy guys just hanging around, and not one woman in sight. This fort was cool, though.
I got Charlie a demitasse of super-strong expresso, which a kind old fellow helped her dilute with sugar. We then took the Circumvesuviana train out to the archaeological ruins at Pompeii.
This place was a resort for well-to-do Romans which fell victim to an eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 A.D. The city and most of its residents were buried in ash and cinders.
It is a very thought-provoking place. The chariot wheel ruts are still in the streets, some of the wall murals are still visible in the excavated homes, and there are unearthed restaurants, bakeries, stables, an amphitheatre, and a whorehouse, among other structures.
They are still excavating in Pompeii, and more structures and petrified dead bodies are turning up regularly, frozen in a moment of time.
One can only imagine the panic-stricken Pompeiians stampeding toward the sea with the suffocating wall of hot ash, cinders and lava chasing them. Yipes!
We retreated to Rome later that day, then headed north on the train the next morning to Vienna, Austria. Or, so we thought.
When the train got to Venice, it just stopped, and the conductor said, in Italian, something like “Everyone off!” Evidently, we were on the last Italian train of the day, and there were no Austrian connections that evening. I’d fucked up, apparently. I’d also caught a very nasty cold, and there we were, stranded in the cold train depot, having to wait until the next morning to catch a train. I was dying. Charlie saved the day by trudging, in the dark and in the rain, down the street into Venice, and, miraculously, found us a hotel room for the night.
We were on a tight schedule, and had not intended to stop in Venice, so we headed on into Austria the next day, skipping Vienna and heading directly to Munich. There, we had a very nice evening at a beer hall, watching the ex-Nazis sing, dance, and chug beers. What a nice bunch of fun-loving alcoholics they were!
The next day we took the “el” train out to Dachau Nazi concentration camp.
It is in a park setting, right smack in the middle of a modern Munich sudivision; you’re looking at a scene out of American suburbia, then you round the corner, expecting to see a school, a pocket park, or a Good Humor ice cream truck, and, achtung!…barbed wire, gun towers, crematories, and the “Work Will Set You Free!” entry sign. It’s a mindblower.
There is a museum there for the younger folks who don’t know what evil lurked back in the day. Also, a tour which takes you into the barracks where the condemned tried to sleep, to torture chambers, to the ovens, where the Jews who died were incinerated, etc. The whole thing makes your skin crawl, which is probably the point. I hope the German citizenry gets the point.
From Munich, we took the train to Geneva, Switzerland. Very pretty, neat, prosperous city, with a tremendous lake and mountain view. I could live there (if I had a million bucks or so laying around).
We were only passing through, so we spent a few hours that evening at the movie theater watching Eddie Murphy’s latest flick, “Coming to America”. It was passable entertainment, but what was very interesting was the commercials that preceded the movie. American theatres had not yet begun to do this, so we were surprised to see lengthy, finely-produced productions (more than a minute) pitching various consumer products.
The next morning, we took the TGV high-speed train (200 mph) from Geneva back to Paris. Now THAT’S what I call a train! TGV’s going in opposite directions pass each other in one second…swear to God!
In Paris it was Tuesday again, and therefore the Louvre was closed, dammit, so that sucked. I believe that we had dinner that night on the Left Bank…at a Russian restaurant, probably because it was inexpensive. Borscht…ugh!
I do recall crossing the English Channel the next day in style…in a Hovercraft. It took maybe 45 minutes, as compared to all night on the tramp steamer. You get what you pay for!!!
And that was it, our European blitz tour was over. We had a great time, enjoyed some special once-in-a-lifetime moments with Ron, and got a taste of world traveling.