Happy New Year my Beloveds

The photo is a good summary of my day- the good, the bad and the very hungry. H took me on a longer hike than my legs wanted, and I skied like a drunk (her words, loosely translated). The good news is that my worst day this year is a lot better than my worst day last year. So....my worst is less worse? 

Somehow I have to put something on for tonight over the blister and dry skin. Will send photos if I manage to take any, but there is a serious chance that I will be asleep in my elk consommé. 

More soon. 

little teeny update- but with videos! (new tech)

from todays tour

Thought I might throw in a very quick Lech update, though I don't know what I can say that I haven't said every other winter.

Harumi told me to get slightly wider skis and they have been a game changer.  At Christmas the Schneiders handed out old photos to each table- some were really old and frankly horrible- but some were amusing. We have a new room with views to the south and west, and we have both walked into our old room several times.

Thomas is doing these really really long hikes and comes back so tired and happy. It is some sort of nectar to him, all this exercise.

I have also seen some of the worst behavior I have ever seen here- rich people's temper tantrums over perceived slights, one man coming to the dining room in his dirty pyjamas and divorcees trolling for new husbands in full view of the husband's wife. You know- the usual.
It does lead one to a kind of five star mini depression. The sanest ones are the mountain guides- so I try to stick close to them.
Harumi's son is my love- he comes to the hotel by skis, and he likes to hold a little briefcase (instead of ski poles) that holds his baby giraffe. I will upload that video and more after dinner.
more in a jiffy. xx

One oldie from Lech. F must be about 6.

view from my bed

ok below is H's son on his rounds with briefcase. He already has a lot of his mothers ski style- the way he pushes into the mountain left and right. You must put it into full screen and listen for the baby Japanese at the end. I told Luis S that he would be ruling this town for only a few more years- a new bachelor with longer eyelashes was coming. He claims that Fuyuki has maxed out on cuteness and it's all downhill from here. No pun intended.

and Harumi just sent me this one (she takes a lot of me...which I sort of hate because I hate looking at my own style especially in the back country; 

but you get the idea of how remote it is out there

For Unto Us An Ocean is Given

The waves today were about 7 meters, or over 20 feet. In his noon address, the Captain announced it was a “Magnificent day on the north Atlantic!”- He described it as gray and rainy and windy and “Isn’t it a joy to surf these mighty seas??!”

The waves are indeed something to behold- we gape slightly open mouthed, and then shake our heads and smile- smile at their might; smile at our relief they have until now, avoided us.

I decided that water like this was too sacred to watch while podcasting, so I put in Handel’s Messiah and walked around the 7th deck, which translates to about the 7th floor. Some of the swells were so high, it was like the water wanted to come up and say hello. As I listened to sopranos raised in song, (FOR UNTO US A SON IS GIVEN!)  a few of these monsters crested, and the tops turned a vibrant, turquoise blue. (AND HIS NAME SHALL BE CALLED WONDERFUL!)
It was such a beautiful sight; it made me tear up.

In fact, I was so moved, I yelled hello into the wind. Hello you glorious, dolphin filled waves! “HELLLOOOOW!!!!!!!!!”  Thank you for bringing me to England.

Luckily this is not at all strange behavior here. Many people drink at lunch, so it is hard to tell who is drunk and who is just a Wehlen.

Went for manicure and hit pay dirt. This sassy Jamaican woman of great beauty and a rather don’t mess with me vibe, described the safety procedures. She seems to be a bit of a nerd like I am on the exact protocol, and she reserves very harsh words for people who are on their phones during the safety briefing. Says if she sees any of these slackers in a real emergency “You don't want to know what I will say to him, maan.”

She is clear that one needs to stay on the Queen Mary for as long as possible. “Don’t be jumping off, girl. She is safer than de life boat…”
(“Don’t be worrying,” I said…..)

Best of all she described what happened a few weeks ago- the night that woke Osman. The waves were 50 feet (that is 5 stories of water coming at you) and it lasted two days and a night. She said that the bow of this enormous ship went up so high- it looked vertical, like it would flip over. She said “Dat storm need to go back and not happen again..”

She and the spa girls were terrified; and it is hard to find crew who have ever been scared. She said there were two kinds of passengers: the seasick/terrified, and the ones who still insisted on French manicures.
She told them: “ A french manicure? In this weather? We outta a de white polish maan”

And so on this beautiful Advent evening…may I say to all my beloved fellow seekers: Jews and Gentiles; Muslims, atheists, ocean worshippers, tree huggers; Catholics, lapsed and devout: May I remind you tonight of the gift of this beautiful ocean. Visit it from time to time, and say hello won’t you?  It will do your soul good.



Pictures from solid land I promise. xx

Fair Winds and Following Seas

Portrait of a girl in a wind blown skirt holding chocolates

If there is one thing this blog has hoped to convey over the years, it is that one should not attempt to cross the Atlantic in just any old canoe. We are having a lovely day - walking around and around and getting chocolates handed to us by handsome Turks, and yet the seas are 20 feet and the wind is gale force. Thanks to the Queen Mary, we get to look at this magnificent ocean without getting our hair wet. Most of this is due to the fact that today the waves are coming from our stern. Since we are going the same direction, and more or less the same speed, it is all mellow up here.

The entire crew had a two hour security practice yesterday including looking for bombs and life boat drill. Thomas and I were knee deep in our step counting and this threw us, because much of the deck was closed to the passengers (the captain kept calling us “guests”). He repeated that this was for exercise only, and the guests didn’t need to start jumping off or handing out life jackets. (Im paraphrasing).

I saw my BFF Osman leading his group to his future life boat. At lunch I told him that I would be getting in his boat no matter what, so he should make room; he said he would hold the caviar.

He knows I want any gruesome ship details he can provide, with an emphasis on suicides or rogue waves; and boy does he provide. He told us that people jump off all the time, because the ship is a bit of a suicide tourist destination. They are mandated to search for the victim for one full day, even though these people jump off at night into a black, roaring, freezing sea, and there is no way they can be found. Thomas said it wouldn’t be that bad, once you were in. The cold would make you sort of blasé pretty quickly like on Mt. Everest.

He has taken his trivia game up a notch this trip (more on that later) and then said something to the effect of “93% of people who commit suicide regret it.”

With all the walking, we haven’t had much time for massages or planetariums visits, but I have added a handsome Turk to my rotation. (can never have too many) He is the man who gives me blow outs in the evenings, and he adds some juicy details while the hair mask is on (he is big on hair masks). Apparently there would be 150 of us in one life boat; some water and some power bars; but no water the first day, because one never knows when one will be rescued. The first order of business would be to give everyone a sea sickness pill, which has the benefit of putting us all to sleep. But this was my favorite part: We will be given little fishing rods. “Fishing RODS?” I asked…How long are we expected to be out there? He said it is not for the fish, it is to keep us busy. If we should catch one, we are not even allowed to eat it because that will make us thirsty.
 “ Because of the soy sauce?!!”

All the life boats would be tied together, and there would be no driving, just bobbing. If occurred to me that I didn’t understand what would happen next. “How would we get onto another ship? (In rough seas no less…)”
 “Ladder”….
“Ladder!? All of these elderly people up a ladder of an oil tanker?

Point is, as much as I like the idea of a little romantic bob with handsome Turkish men, one of whom will be holding caviar, and the other massaging my head before wrapping it in a hot towel, it doesn’t seem like the post entering the life boat part has been really thought out.

In my walks, I catch these little snap shots of people, and I collect them like seashells. Today into the elevator came a couple - the type where the husband has the face lift but not the wife. He was perhaps 90 with a jaunty little hair transplant of red hair, an utterly garish Versace shirt and plenty of bling. She was more circumspect in her grooming…but you could tell she thought she was the lucky one, married to a gorgeous peacock like that. They were holding hands to keep from falling over with the ship movement. After they got in, he pretended to knock on the elevator door as if to get it to open…she laughed and sighed and fake hit him, as if to ask the rest of the elevator: ‘Can you believe I landed this one?”
Then the doors opened, and they reached for each other again.

I am telling you, it is a romantic ship.

Photos soon, I promise. xx

Queen Mary, Christmas Edition!

 Greetings from somewhere near the resting grounds of the Titanic. We are off the coast of Nova Scotia, near Sable Island- the “graveyard of the Atlantic”. Sable is a mysterious nature reserve inhabited (says Wikepedia) by horses and seals and the Ipswich sparrow. Since the 17th century, 475 ships have run around on it after getting caught in the mixture of the Labrador and Gulf currents. When these currents meet, they create very rough seas and there is always a lot of fog. Making it even more treacherous is the fact that Sable Island is ever shifting with no fixed position in the ocean. Bit like the Bermuda triangle out here. 

This story was cheerily relayed to us at the noon announcement by our captain, whom we have met on a previous crossing. He is rather funny: he answered my question about rogue waves years ago by saying he was against the whole business, says he is afraid of bad weather. 

Speaking of bad weather…..we have had a little of it today. The winds were huge - force 11, which is classified as “violent storm”  and translates to 55-65 knots, with a sea state of “rough”. If the winds had kept up, this would mean 37-52 feet high waves. It has however died down, and is now force 8. 

The decks were officially closed but lots of people were out, including us step counters (did you really expect anything less?)  It didn't seem that much bigger than summer storms, until we went down to the second deck. This was amazing…a few waves suddenly, completely covered the windows in front of our chairs.  It was a bit like when Frederick was very little and we were standing in front of the window of the polar bear enclosure at the zoo. In an instant the bear swam up and put all four limbs on the window separating us. It was just like that- like having nothing but some glass separating you from a polar bear. I asked Thomas if he flinched as I did, and he said yes…it was genuinely frightening.

But of course this is nothing. The captain says one should use the hand rails; and that is about it. A few weeks ago they went near a hurricane and that was really bad. Osman (handsome Turk) says he was awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of a bomb going off. He sleeps in the bow, so it’s worse there. Apparently they were hit by a wave, or more likely, plummeted down from a big one, and he says he has never heard anything like it. 

So basically, we have had some huge winds and a few large waves, but it didn't stop the tea or canasta.  No one is sea sick and our sleeping is extraordinary. I slept the first night from 9:30 to 7:30 and then took a huge nap later in the day. 

I have to get these photos up, so I will make this short today. Most exciting is the below video of a wave I took. Having issues getting it to work, but let's see. 
xx

Caviar Count: 1

Crêpes Suzette: 2

Steps taken as a family on the QM2

85, 702. (but who’s counting)

our living room; bedroom out of view

our deck

This was after the wind mellowed. Imagine the wave really fully covering the window for a few seconds. 

Aristotle's Breath Atoms

Chicago family weekend over and out. Unlike the PEA ones, this was less about sniffing around the mysterious place that our child calls home- weekends where we attended classes and met teachers and peeked behind the curtain. The college version was more snatching him away to comfort and good food for a few days. We spent a bit of time on the campus, but being the jaded empty nesters that we are, saw little need to attend every seminar that was offered. It is so nice how much more relaxed it is to visit him in college. High school was just a rush-he seemed to be biting his nails more-and he was considered among the most zen of zen there. He met us for dinner near campus the first night- a place that features Southern Cooking. Mon Dieu..it was like going to a foreign country. We were a small minority of white people...and were a tad confused by the menu. (what is a grit exactly?) Lots of calories and lots of fun. MMB is now a full convert to the whole corn bread okra scene.

The  take away is the kid is cruising- cruising through  classes (three of which he took two years ago, thanks Exeter) and playing a jolly game of tennis every other day against all manner of French graduate students, engineering undergrads, and other bon vivants. He goes to the occasional frat party, where he drinks a cheap beer or two and then calls it a night. As I write this, I must admit that it sounds suspiciously like those kids who tell their parents they are going to college, but are in fact pocketing the tuition money and using it for drugs, or worse- a start up dating app for physics buffs. "Everything is great Mom! I have gotten a 100% on every test I have taken and am drinking very little! In fact I am using my free time to tutor other kids!! But could you please forward the money for next year directly to my account?"

But it won't last long- he has heard time and again that the fancy private school boost only lasts for the first year, so he should work on the backhand while he can.

Speaking of sports, the distance between our hotel and the University is about 10 miles and of course Thomas walked back twice, until Friday night when Frederick finally checked into the hotel. He is starting to resemble an Aboriginal Indian embarking on his final walk into the desert.

MMB and Ron went to every museum as well as a talk on statistical physics where they learned how to approximate important things like: how many atoms of Aristotle's last breath are in this room? How many taxi drivers are in Chicago? or, If a balloon is filled with helium in a car, and the car accelerates, will the balloon move forward, back or stay upright?

The most exciting news is Frederick has submitted his room for "best looking dorm room" for which he has me alone to thank. Feast your eyes below on the gray Berber rug from Target and the custom altered pottery barn curtain and the ETSY wall art. The weird blue lighting and space tapestry are his additions, so if he loses it's on him. Winner gets to be in the UChicago catalogue.

I asked if his room was the place everyone came to because it is agreed on his floor that his is the nicest. He said people only come when they have "a problem", and need counseling. Oh I said..does the patient lie on the bed in lieu of a patients couch? "No" he said "...the patient sits in the hard, cheap wooden chair that came with the room; I sit in the fancy leather desk chair, and the kid who is the shrink lies on the bed."
What can I say? in Chicago they don't coddle the sick.

He says that the gang has three "mothers" of which he is one. The mothers are the ones that say everyone should perhaps call it a night or not go home with that guy they barely know or remind people to do their homework. There are apparently a few kids who are already totally underwater, because they are having such a grand time drinking cheap vodka in a sub optimally decorated dorm room (S.O.D.D.R.).

Took a trip to the aquarium, where Frederick and I made a bee line for the shark tank, and then proceeded to try to find piranhas. Thomas slowly made his way through the rainforest/amazon carefully looking at ever little frog and tropical fish.  Frederick started to look bored after about 40 minutes, just like he did when he was little.
The planetarium was better of course...and all of them are these large expensive building built right onto the turquoise blue lake, so it's quite nice to hang out there.
Alas, all of them also have signs of little guns with lines drawn through them.

Went to Second City where we were worried MMB would somehow get on stage with the comedians. It was way more about Trump than the last time we went- more lingering between despair and humor like at a funeral- that place of crazy laughing where you could just as easily cry. Luckily we landed at Kinzie's Chop House- a very un-Wehlen like place...but it was lovely. All very old school Chicago with steaks and all manner of sauces, and the best truffle fries I have ever had.

Before I left, I went to this meditation class at Laura P's house and someone said it was a special day in various traditions so it was important to ask yourself what it is you worship. What are you in awe of?

Me- that's easy: the ocean; knowledge seekers and smart people in general, starry skies; big mountains; the occasional truffle fry- and these days, Nancy Pelosi.

(Om Shanti Shanti Truffle shanti OOOMMMM Nancy Nancy Hare Hare Krishna!!!!!)

Chinese food at Shanghai Terrace at our hotel.

Portraits of a budding astrophysicist bored out of his mind in front of a exhibit of amazonian agriculture. FCAW apparently does not bow to tropical fruit.

Chico Hard at Work

This was from his class today. Thomas claims this is normal behavior- no one can claim physicists aren't a zany people.
(Does that blackboard produce anxiety in anyone else besides me?)

The Blog gets Windy!

International House (home sweet home)

Ok so F is now tucked away in a little single room at the International house, where he is facing a full nine days of orientation. This is slightly bumming him out- to use the vernacular. As he put it: they keep asking them how excited they are to get started, but not actually letting them get started.
He has made his first friends though- there was a pair in the bathroom filling a fish tank for one guy's- wait for it- pet shrimp.
They are arriving soon by mail.
I cannot hear the word 'shrimp' without thinking of food, so I suggested he give the guy tartar sauce as a gift.

The crowd looks much like the Exeter crowd -not a lot of blondes, plenty of eyeglasses; in other words, what the world looks like.
He met a few kids who say they want to study physics, and they didn't seem like a super fun crowd. But he got to tell the first stranger what he was studying, even though he isn't studying it yet. We were in Crate and Barrel buying him a rather chic assortment of furniture..and when the guys wanted to know where to deliver it, he told him. Then the sales person said "what are you studying?"
"astrophysics."
kind of a nerd mic drop.

We all heard various presentations welcoming us and a few themes kept coming up. First and foremost was the free speech one- something that is unique to UChicago.

"It is not the proper role of the University to attempt to shield individuals from ideas and opinions they find unwelcome, disagreeable, or even deeply offensive," the report states. "Although the University greatly values civility, and although all members of the University community share in the responsibility for maintaining a climate of mutual respect, concerns about civility and mutual respect can never be used as a justification for closing off discussion of ideas, however offensive or disagreeable those ideas may be to some members of our community."

"Our commitment to academic freedom means that we do not support so-called 'trigger warnings,' we do not cancel invited speakers because their topics might prove controversial, and we do not condone the creation of intellectual 'safe spaces' where individuals can retreat from ideas and perspectives at odds with their own," the letter said.

The other theme that kept coming up was that parents should go home soon. LOl..Really there were multiple times when they said that we should now say goodbye and go have a great time in Chicago.
Clearly it is a problem at colleges these days, getting the helicopters out ...

Finally, in two of the speeches at the convocation, the speakers mentioned immigrants. It was sort of random but wonderful...they didn't even make a direct connection to the University. They just said Oh by the way, we need them in this country, they are welcome here.

The little immigrant I married got teary.

Chicago's reputation is that is it genuinely difficult- the grade inflation less; the work load more, with an unapologetically serious core course study. We were told the joke is it's the only school where you will read Homer in five different classes. (My father is clapping in his grave). We shall see.
But the school is also famous for its humor. Second City was started by some of them, and the school is known for the legendary Scavenger hunt. In past years someone won by acquiring an elephant and building a nuclear reactor. (Please see below for a partial 2019 list.) The second speaker went on a little too long for the kiddies' taste-somehow weaving in a few too many Aristotle and Ottoman Empire references in his welcome speech. Beware boring a church filled these types: while the guy was still droning on, the below meme appeared on all the incoming first years' phones:

The good news for all of us visiting is that Chicago is really and truly fun: all three of us were delighted by the lake, the skyline, the restaurants, the hotel. It feels clearly like the Midwest: the people are a little heavier, and a lot nicer (maybe because they aren't as hungry). They also have a strange way of holding hands...I mean it. We started counting the number of middle aged people holding hands all over the place. Adorably they wear Cubs shirts even in the fancy dining room.

When we spoke by phone the other day Frederick said he has had to do a lot of babysitting at the parties..."not a lot of these people have had a drink before Mommy". LOL...he is now the wizened old drinker compared to them. I asked about one kid who was also at our hotel and seemed suspiciously normal. His mother looked like my kind of gal: cool glasses, camouflage pants with an air of wanting to be done with the whole checking in to the dorm thing. No tears on her.

Then I see the same kid is speaking Spanish to his mother and is from London AND is in the room directly across the hall from him. Perfect. F said the kid had come to introduce himself, (good news) but it was (bad news) at 3 a.m. after a few (many) drinks. He said the whole scene is reminiscent of Wentworth hall but with more alcohol and fewer "pee filled flying bottles" (?) A direct quote. I thought it best not to ask a follow up question.

The campus is really so lovely; below a few photos. I didn't take a photo of his room because we haven't gotten all the finishing touches in yet. He is awaiting a fancy chair and a curtain and of course a tapestry of space. I noted to him that he didn't put up any pictures of loved ones and he said he would need a bigger room. So please, send him glossy embarrassing photos of yourselves so he can't deny we are related. My vision is we send so many he can paper a wall with them.
Here is the address:

Frederick Wehlen
1414 E. 59th Street
International House, 746
Chicago Ill 60637-2916

 Feel free to write weird things on the envelope.
(will add more photos soon)

a second year as they are called here. 

In front of Rockefeller Chapel before the Convocation. Heavy rain. 

Below the list...you see why it might be the right place for him.

A copy of the 2019 University of Chicago Scavenger Hunt List. [1 point]
2. Last year, the last Item on the List asked for a prediction for this year’s List. If you made an
accurate prediction about this year’s List, you’ll receive points. [ρ points]
3. A child with a candy cigarette. When I tell them to stop smoking, they must eat it with a
smirk. [Each cigarette reduces your life by 7 points]
4. Scav Hunt—now OSHA certified! Photograph a teammate underneath one of those pre-existing
“No Accidents in N Days” displays, but with N being really big, cause it’s safe. Like Scav
Hunt. No one ever gets hurt! If you attempt to do this in your Headquarters we will ensure
that the sign (and your point total) will read 0. [up to 8 points]
5. Is that a bowl of potpourri or some nicely scented fried onion bits/dried fruits for me to snack
on in the bathroom? We can’t tell, nor should we have to. [4 points]
6. Eileen tests Sorehead’s observational skills by asking, “What sort of hard-workin’ son-of-gun
could get things to market, get the job done?” Sorehead answers with information that they
find around in Lafayette. [4 points]
7. TBA. [3 points]
8. A candle with the timeless and distinguishable scent: Old People Smell. [Back in my day, this
was worth 9 points]
9. Kashira, kashira... gozonji kashira?! / I hear the brave Scavvies are going to Room 2E this
Thursday and Friday... / Oh, what brave Scavvies! Meddlesome brave Scavvies, who give up
that precious fluid for their team’s sake! / Oh, but be careful, brave Scavvies. There are rules
there, at DCAM, rules you must follow! / Hm, I have a new cast-iron skillet, isn’t it nice? /
Then cook up red meat! Lentils! Beans! Raisins and spinach! / Can you think of any more? /
Kashira, kashira... gozonji kashira? [x points]
10. A letter from Paul Blart to the Corinthians. [1 point]
11. The Traveling Circus celebrates its first show at a national park with a photo at the Mammoth
Cave National Park welcome sign. [2 mammoth points]
12. He was number one in 2002. We were number one in 2014. In 2019, your Smitty
Werbenjagermanjensen hat plays “We Are Number One” whenever you drink from it. [14
points]
13. “Upon this rock I shall build my church?” More like, “Upon The Rock I shall build my church.”
[The father, the son, and the holy 3 points]
14. Present several phones whose backgrounds, when put together, create an image of Nicholas
Cage’s face. [.2 points per phone; maximum 50 phones]
15. A stack of Russian dolls, decorated as fictional entities, such that when each is opened, it
reveals the person or entity which actually controls it. [23 points]
16. Rewrite any one-line Item from this List in square word calligraphy. [7 points]
17. We’ve heard that SOME people think that all LaCroix® flavors taste the same. We don’t

To Be Understood (if only in regard to Topfenstrudel)

Not an actual photo of Lech, but it is what the little town of Zug looks like to me at night

Other than a new classic concert or a jam festival in town, the only things that change in the months we are away from Lech are slight renovations at some of the hotels, or a death in the village. We are as comfortable here as we are anywhere on earth.

I once heard a saying that the ultimate happiness would be a re incarnation as an Italian baby; how that would symbolize the ultimate level of comfort and love. Second to that must be to be reincarnated as a guest at a five star hotel in Austria. There are few times one is looked at with such concern and attention.

The Austrians use an expression that we hear no where else: "Selbst Verständlich", which literally translates to "Self understood". It is used in response to an order or a request, as in:
"I would like a Christmas tree delivered to my table, and I want it with whipped cream and a cherry on top."
Self Understood!!!
It means not only have you been understood, but your dippy needs celebrated. Frederick remarked how happy he was to hear the first one when we arrived.

Summer is better than winter here. F would disagree of course- (who wants to walk when you can ski) but the après crowds stuffed into pink ski suits are a blight on the town. Lech endures it, but God only knows why.

F never hikes with us because he, like all humans, develops a "hiking hatred" - the unique feeling of loathing for one's fellow man, even if that fellow man gave him life, when hiking up something really steep. I have spoken of this often on this blog; how the pain and misery leads one to feel an intense dislike of every single person one encounters, including and especially, the people who are ahead of you on the trail. You want to kill them.
So Frederick hikes alone, and we meet for lunch.

Thomas announced he has lost 4 kilos over the summer, which is a lot (close to 10 pounds). He does not know this is somewhat irritating, especially as he announces this while eating ice cream drowning in coffee. I have not lost (or even misplaced) 4 kilos, and have hit the travel/eating wall; I am seriously looking forward to eating beans and rice again.

So summer is closing up, and it is back to crazy land. My little friend by the pool: a Swedish/Danish couple with two edible babies, told me that Amnesty International has issued a warning against traveling to the United States. Something about the risk of being shot by an assault rifle- a position they feel is too uncivilized to sanction with a visit.

Meanwhile, I am doing my part by listening to 4 podcasts a day and speaking with lawyers in Puerto Rico. Heroes come in all shapes I guess.

Experimenting with the video on the blog...see if this works...xx

Trying to Catch a Moonbeam in your hand

It is no more possible to capture how pretty this place is then it is to taste a rainbow; but every summer I try.
Below my latest attempts. I will fill in the blanks tomorrow; check this entry then.

At present I am in my bathrobe (see last photograph) along with my fellow Gasthof Post Cult members having tea. There is ham, and there is cake; and there is something fermented in the near future.
yay.

More soon.

A Quickie for the records...

The above was the pool off of our room in the lovely Comporta- a beach town 90 minutes north of the house in Portugal. It was sublime, (also the name of the hotel) if a little weird. One does not often swim in green water with lily pads so happily; but you got used to it.

Sadly a lot of the romance was taking away by hearing nothing but my people- particularly from New York yaking about business on their little docks as I was trying to float. Americans have definitely discovered Comporta.

It was one of those hotels that is meant to be all about rest and relaxation: very zen and a tad judgy as these places are. But it happened to be the semi finals at Wimbledon: Federer v Nadal, and we were not going to miss it. The room had a television, but it was small and did not have the BBC. So I called the front desk and they told me to, in essence, get over it. I realized they were rolling their eyes at the uptight American, but I didn't care.
"So it is the same story in the bar? there is no BBC?"
"There are no televisions outside of the room Madam."

Luckily I married a graduate of the ETH who said some sort of native American chant over his ipad, and we got to watch it that way. Something about VPNs (?) and fibbing in response to questions about our exact location, and we were in business.

But if anyone wants to really relax, and avoid any tennis on television- I can highly recommend it.

Groovy Comporta chandeliers

Then we flew Barcelona where we were treated really well at a rather posh hotel Peter recommended. It was almost comical, the second we entered the hotel, they rushed us upstairs as if we were somehow important and had to be out of sight of our rabid fans. The only other time I was whisked through a check in like that was when we were in Jordan. Perhaps they thought we were someone else. 

Barcelona is town everyone loves, but I have somehow never bonded with it. It is so lovely; a large, beautiful European city on the Mediterranean. So I have no idea why it's one of the few places on earth where I don't wander around briefly fantasizing about living there.

Chico arrived looking rather tan and fit, and taller- finally, than his parents.

The hotel had a fabulous roof bar (see below) with a tiny pool used solely for girls to pose for selfies in bikinis.

We saw a good deal of Gaudi houses; and the Picasso museum where we were behind Steve Carrell of The Daily Show and the Office fame, and Frederick was beside himself. Then the usual walking over hill and dale, tapas, ice cream, hip one star restaurant and of course five hours of huddling by the scared Ipad for that Wimbledon final. We are a predictable trio.

Anyway, for those who are following (and I don't blame you if you have given up after two bloody months of our wanderings), we were back in Portugal for a week and are now in a rainy little Swiss village for Michael's birthday. On to Lech day after tomorrow where we will stay with the enemy: in the Post hotel- (obviously the Almhof is closed in summer, hence our traitorousness.)

I told K and G to get the trumpets tuned in honor of our arrival, but no word yet...

At a Gaudi house near the hotel. 

After the usual 20,000 + steps, but in the wrong shoes. 

Sagrada Familia, the reason we went to Barcelona- Chico had long wanted to see it, but we didn't get tickets!

being boiled in the Swiss Alps, then cooled in a cow trough below.