Every generation...

Here I am once again taking in this gorgeous view. I know by now my words have become cliches and somewhat redundant. But I have to say, as I sit here alone, on the veranda, looking out over the sparkling water of the sea, before anyone else wakes up, I am at peace. I have a metal plaque in my garden at home. It reads "... I am closer to God in my garden than any place on earth". I would now have to add "... in my garden or sitting on a veranda in a small town in Greece overlooking the Mediterranean Sea."

When saying the word village, referring to small towns in far-away countries, the image created is somewhat charming, quaint, and a little parochial. If you use the word "hordio", to me the word expresses depth and character. Beginning our journey to Kokkino, we stopped at a gas station to fill up. Gasoline here is not inexpensive, but to our surprise, a service station attendant appeared to "fill 'er up". Remember those words? "Fill 'er up!" When I was a child, (oh here we go), I remember taking vacations. Actually, taking vacations in the 50's and 60's meant piling into the non-air conditioned car, drawing the imaginary lines between my brother and I; the one who crossed it was likely to "get slugged", and heading off to grandma's house. No Disneyland, no vacation at the beach, or a resort in Mexico. Vacations meant going to grandma's for freshly baked bread, freedom to wear shoes in the house, and lots and lots of grandma love.
(Pause -- My thought process was interrupted. Eeyore was just letting everyone know he is awake.)

Driving to that small town in middle-America meant passing through various little "towns" where houses with closed-in porches lined the highway. There was usually a small gas station or two, a local grocery store with the owner's name displayed with an apostrophe. (Typically it wasn't Sam's). There was always a cafe or restaurant with toilets that didn't flush well and faucets that trickled out water, and always that bottle of Coca-Cola where you used a bottle cap remover right at the machine. After a brief stop of greasy hamburgers and chocolate milkshakes made with real homemade ice-cream, we were "on the road again...", trying to make our destination before nightfall. I remember narrow highways and winding roads and pin-point turns as we climbed through the mountains that separated us.

Our destination for Kokkino the "hordio" began in much the same way. We came to the sign with the designated turn reading "Kokkinou 15". We had three option to read it -- Greek spelling, Greek phonetics and English. Turning left, the road was like turning into a driveway leading into a back alley. Very narrow with buildings on both sides. As we broke into the open, the road became a paved goat path of winding turns. First one way for a few miles and then a sharp turn going back the other way. As we climbed the mountain, the panoramic view opened up into a valley of olive trees, grape vines and various other fruit trees. There were churches placed throughout with their familiar dome of red terracotta rising above everything else. They rested on the top of the hills or crests that were the highest point in the area. We didn't have far to go but the drive was slow. As we got higher and higher the road seemed even more narrow. We passed through 5 villages, at least according the signs, before reaching the summit. Looking out, you saw that familiar majestic mountain view of hills and valley, the blue sky, and the white clouds hovering over distant peaks. But here, we add the deep blue sea. Wow! That's all I can say. Well, I could say more but Wow! is enough.
On the other side of the mountain we continued on for a short distance and and then their it was Kokkino. Nestled into the side of the mountain, it was a mixture of the old river-rock and cement huts and the newer white stucco-like concrete two and four-family houses. Jonathan was the designated photographer of the day. He took shots of widowed yia-yias in their traditional black garbs with their black wool knee socks covering their black stockings. Their heads covered. Their wrinkled leather-worn skin and toothless smiles revealed years of outdoor exposure where Estee Lauder didn't exist, and the obvious poverty that prevailed throughout a war torn country. Vacant homes of broken windows and doors revealed empty relics of a past life. The people that once inhabited them have passed away and the space left behind was unclaimed. Did these people have an option to change and they chose not to? What gave those who left, like Lou's papou, Elias, the desire and the determination to leave? Saying goodbye to loved ones, sometimes forever, or in his case, returning only once to find his bride, Eleni, from a "distant" village miles away. A young girl who after an arrangement between her brothers and a stranger, left all that she knew.
We entered the church centered in the town. It was a solid structure built in the late 1800's. Like many of the old churches around, it smelled heavily of must, incense and oil that had been burned over and over. We did a small prayer service together remembering those of past generations. I felt Chris and Jonathan's realization that this was a part of their heritage when they saw gravestones in the local cemetery with their names on them. On the mountain top behind the village a small church, Prophet Elias, was built in remembrance of how religion was their foundation and strength. After a few hours exploring the old house of FL's grandfather, and visiting with a few of the residents, we left. I have to admit, with a sigh of relief.
Reality is sometimes uncomfortable. There are those that have, and those that have not. Seeing how others live in this vast world is an eye-opener. The people of Kokkino, for the most part must be happy, in spite of their look of tired sadness. Maybe as Americans, our expectations and determination comes from those who left that world. Maybe that is why we expect more, have more and want more. Selfishly, I say -- thank you!
Safe and sound, and plenty exhausted, Nichole, Gus, Telly, Elias and Alexander arrived safely in Kalamata. Again the tears of joy were there. Now there were nine!!!

By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea.....

There is no date or time here. Compared to the big cities of Thessaloniki and Athens, this area of Greece is at the opposite spectrum. The mornings are still with the sun reflecting off the sea. a light breeze blows off the water to keep things just coo0l enough. At this time of day, the sea looks like a hazy blue sky and the mountains on the other side of the water form the clouds. They blend in to one another with the only separation being the silver from the sun's reflection quaking off the water. In the distance, the sounds of birds singing and fussing, are loud enough to wake you. Just down below us is a fenced in pasture with a donkey that periodically lets out a deep loud brae, I've tried to interact with Eyore, but I don't think he speaks English. There is also a goat and about 15 chickens and roosters. They also don't hesitate to wake you in the morning. They don't really seem to have a purpose here, just grazing on the weeds and a little bit of green grass that is very sparse. There are several goats around the area. When they cry out, they sounds like a baby crying for its mother -- ma ma -- ma ma. One could write a children's farm animal book from here and be able to identify most of the animals. The most disturbing however, is the seagulls. They perch up high and they laugh out loud. You would think theywere looking down at you and actually joking amongst themselves at your benefit. The day after we arrived, Nikki and Yonnie, FL's cousin (3x removed), took us to Coroni, a small town at the tip of the peninsula. We sat first at an outdoor cafe. As in most places, there were umbrellas over rattan couches and chairs with a coffee table. We ordered the traditional frappe. Yonnie and Nikke live in Melborne Australia half the year, where their son lives, and then half a year here in a nearby village. Their daughter lives in Kalamata. When they speak English, it is with an Australian accent. "Mondaaai, Tuesdaaai, Wednesdaai....."After coffee, we ascended the cliffs near the water via winding steps. At the top there are the remains of an old castle fortress where on a clear day, you can see forever. The sea is everywhere. The area is now inhabited by and order of nuns. There are small chapels all around, some are old and some are newer. During WWII the Germans took over the area and used it as a camp for prisoners. The ground was dry and the grass completly burnt from the sun. But scattered throughout the dryness are bushes with glorious flowers. They seem to grow wild here We plucked some almonds and figs off of trees in the area. There are very nice vacation homes here, not an over abundance, but the people who live here permanently, appear to be old and worn out. It is a tired country. The tourist industry is Greece's main industry. So far, around the villages here there haven't been a lot of tourist. Very nice for us, but not so for the people here. I always knew that Greeks put a lot of importance in their food, but I have to say, there hasn't been a restaurant or cafe yet that we have been to where the food hasn't been delicious. The meat tastes more flavorful, the vegetables taste fresher and the bread and deserts, and the homemade wine.... am I making you hungry yet? I don't know what I am going to do when I get home. First of all I haven't cooked in about 20 days and secondly, going back to my home cooking will definitely be disappointing. Last night we dined on a patio overlooking the water and by the time we got our fresh grilled octopothi and kalamari, the full moon was rising. Maybe it is just the settings that make the food seem so good. The next day, we went to the beach. The beaches here are sandy with a lot of gravel. Before going further into the water, there is a bed of rocks that you have to pass over. Chris and Jonathan swam in the crystal clear blue water. I'm holding out for warmer weather. The temperature is about 80 to 85 degrees. When you are on the beach, the breeze from the water cools you down so much that, if you are not in the sun, it is almost chilly. You could walk for miles or stay in the sun and it isn't even hot. Sunscreen comes in very handy here. Along the main road that runs along the coast,there are several cafes that serve snacks and appetizers. If you eat there, you are allowed to use their umbrellas and lounge chairs. There is one really nice place directly down the hill from us. It is all Kivotos. It is a very modern bar/cafe with the rattan couches and chairs all facing the ocean. The music playing on the upper terrace, is tradition jazz or American elevator music, and down below as you descend the steps to the beach, there is a DJ playing hip electronic dance music. Every place seems to have a bar and refreshment stand. Once on the beach, at first I was restless. It was difficult to just sit and watch people and relax. Chris and Jonathan enjoyed the water and spent a good part of the day just floating. As the day progressed, the calming sea, a good book and the sun that wasn't too hot, took away any thoughts of moving my body to do anything. In the evening the water changes colors. It becomes darker shades of blue and the turquoise borders become more prominent. The distant mountain still maintain their haze but they appear more majestic at night. We were lucky enough to be able to experience a full moon while here. As it floated up from the horizon, the sky became dark blue and the contrasting moon was a yellow-orange color. It has now taken the place of the sun and the white caps of the sea appear every now and then to get a glimpse of the man in the moon. Shadows appear here and there, but for the most part, the sea is calm. The waves are lazy. They don't pound and pull away at the land. They seem to roll in and roll out. Which seems to set the pace for the rest of the environment here. Calm, lazy, hazy. Later today, we are venturing to Kokkino. FL's grandfather's "hordio" village. Christos and his twin brother are expecting us. I'm not eating too much today in case we have another meal prepared by Maria. Today -- Sunday we awoke to the sound of church bells throughout the area. The churches don't have priests on a regular basis. Tomorrow.... Nichole, Gus and children arrive!!! How great will that be to see them. I Can't wait.

H Patridia (the homeland)!

On Wednesday, June 23 we were picked up at the hotel, in Athens, by a taxi cab driver named Stathi, who had relatives from the same village as my Papou, which is Kokino. In the 40 minute drive to the airport, we conversed (in Greek) about several different connections of people that he knew and that I knew. [Jonathan, Marsha and Chris, in that order, sat in the backseat wondering what we were talking about.] We then boarded a small plane for the 40 minute flight from Athens to Kalamata. The countryside in Kalamata is far greener than the places we have been before in Greece. When we arrived at the airport Christo Christopulos, and Yanni and Nikki Angelopoulos were waiting excitedly to greet their distant relatives from America. After loading up the luggage, we drove along the coastline to Christo's house where his wife, Maria, had prepared a delicious dinner for us. Christos is a farmer and everything that we ate was prepared from fresh food from their land, including the olives, olive oil, cheese and wine. It was delicious and we were all completely stuffed. They do not know how to speak English so we conversed in Greek for the two hours we were there. [Jonathan, Marsha, and Chris, in that order, sat quietly wondering what we were talking about.] Christos then drove us to our new "home" where we will be staying for the next three weeks, in the town of Chrani. The house belongs to our cousin, George Christopulos, from Chicago. George came to America when he was 18 to go to school. He lived with my family for a short time before he attended the University of Wyoming, and before moving to Chicago for medical school. Our families have remained very close.

When we arrived at the house, the sun was setting. The shutters in the house were closed and as we began opening the doors and windows, we realized that the wait to get here was worth it. The view from the upper balcony looks out over the Mediterranean Sea. In the distance was the shadow of mountains both to the east and to the west. The water was glistening from the sunlight.
The front of the house faces a mountain, where olive trees and spruce trees cover it. Just beyond on the opposite side of the mountain, is my Papou's village. I was getting excited! Everywhere we looked through any open window was a beautiful view. There was a cool breeze blowing through house. We settled in and then sat out on the veranda just to take everything in. Thank you George... Thank you God!

Athens

"I'm on the top of the world, looking down on creation...." I'm not sure you are familiar with that song by the Carpenters, but wow! I have been to the Acropolis before, but I think every time you experience it you are mesmerized. Standing on top of a lone plateau, nothing in the city is taller. It tells the story of a place that 2500 years ago was built to represent the empire of democracy. Pericles really made a statement with this one! The fact that it is still standing today is amazing. At night the entire hill is lit up like a gold torch. It is magnificent.

Our view from our hotel balcony reveals the rooftops of most of the buildings in Athens. TV and radio antennas abound. Most rooftops are livable space with some plants and trees and tables to use. There is some laundry hanging from clotheslines. There are a lot of airconditioning units and lots and lots of cement. It would be virtually impossible to cleanup a city like this. There are many empty buildings or at least partially empty. The streets are narrow and crowded. But the hills with their rock formations and churches dedicated to their religion surround. The "newer" houses and apartments climb up them like fingers trying to get to the top. Many of the hills are lit up at night and create an honorable view. The Greek flag is displayed proudly atop many of the higher points in town, including the Acropolis. Advertising is done in various ways here. At the present time I am sitting on the rooftop of the hotel and listening to someone yelling from a microphone system on a truck that is traveling around the city. You could probably hear them in the far east as their voices verberate off the buildings. Today there is protesting in the town center against the government's new stance on the pension payout. Jonathan commented on how everyone that speaks in this country yells. They speak loudly and excitedly. I hadn't noticed until he mentioned it.

Adding Chris to the group was like inviting Jerry Seinfeld, Vince Vaughn or Will Farrow to the party. He and Jonathan teamed up like Mutt and Jeff. There was constant commentary on sites we were seeing and people we were passing. It was refreshing and fun. They also have a great time teasing their parents. Belly laughing is a great way to release tension. Let's just say we all seem to be totally relaxed! As we were walking (climbing) to the top of the Acropolis, there was a strange looking character walking down with a little entourage. As he passed, we realized it was Stephen Tyler from Aerosmith. He had his dread locks and bandanna on. He was quite scrawny looking with a rather large face. He passed people by avoiding eye-contact, but participated the same as any other tourist. Jonathan and Chris were both very excited to see him. Then, again in the Plaka, just walking along, there he was. I'm not sure a lot of people knew who he was, but when we spotted him as did a few others, he ducked into a jewelry shop. The doors were closed immediately. That night at dinner, we all got a good laugh when FL began talking about seeing Stephen Tyler from Steppen Wolf!

Walking through the streets of Athens was not pretty. Again, not a pretty city from below. A lot of peddlers on the streets, lots of cars and honking and a lot of people. When we arrived at the Plaka, which is more accommodating to tourists, there were shops all around, some really nice and some okay. Not really the designer district that has popped up so many times throughout our travels. You could buy a Louis Vuitton here, but they are nicer in SOHO. It was a beautiful day. The weather cooperated fully by being slightly overcast with a breeze. The temperature was probably about 80 degrees. I couldn't really tell you in Celsius which is what everything is based on in Europe. Okay, my proverbial question for the day: Why do we do that? Why is there Celsius and the metric system in one country and Fahrenheit and a different unit system in the other? Did somebody somewhere wake up one day and say "let's make life difficult for everyone and start a new measuring system? Strange. There are many Orthodox Churches splashed throughout the city. We saw a few being renovated and many from the 10th and 11th centuries that were not. There is a St. Catherine here that was from the 11th century. Quite old. It is tucked away near the Plaka on side streets between a nicer area of apartment buildings and hotels.

Eating dinner on the roof of a tall building is quite appealing. It reminds me of Richard Gear in Pretty Woman when Julie Roberts asks him; why if he is afraid of heights does he choose the penthouse. He responds "because it's the best". The air was fresh and breezy, the sunset was superb, and the view was, again, spectacular.

On to Kalamata.

Day 14

I can't believe it has been 14 days since we left? A Part of me feels like it has been forever, and yet time has flown by, as it always seems to. I was very impressed with FL's blogging. This time, I was the one who fell asleep when he started and completed his first blogging session all on his own. Obviously the writing wasn't a problem, but the format for editing and saving and posting can be a little tricky. I can't believe he shared our story of hotel room changes. I tried to be as diplomatic as possible, but disgruntled -- I was. The hotel manager was extremely nice and all turned out exceptionally well as FL explained. As I was plucking the dead flowers off the geraniums, I hear a voice from above. No, not God, it was Georgiou. He was the manager of the garden restaurant up above and he saw me. He called down "poli oraio". He went on to say that I must have a garden because I knew what the flowers needed. (not in Greek -- broken English). I nodded and said "Malista". (in Greek -- I know, proud of me you may be, but don't get excited, my vocabulary is very limited). That night at dinner, on top of the city, he cut a rose for me and said it was for a nice job of trimming back the flower pots. "Evharisto."

Saying good-bye to Thessaloniki, the cab driver took us on a route through a part of town that I wished we would have seen earlier. On the plane from above, I could see more of the landscape and the area outside of the city. It was far more beautiful that what we had experienced in the city. There were rolling hills with what appeared to be large houses dotting the landscape. The area reminded me a lot of Salt Lake City, with the mountains and hills surrounding the city. The fingers of land that FL referred to were prominent, and trimming them all was a turquoise blue edge along the white sandy beaches that was like nothing I have seen. It was as if God took a paint brush and along the edges of land, threw in a brilliant contrasting blue color. He didn't even bother to do shading. At a far distance, forming the left peninsula was Mt. Athos, and on the right, in the distance, were mountains lining the water and a peak which we believed to be Mt. Olympus. What a great place to take a road trip. The entire flight revealed mountains, and islands, and peninsulas and lots and lots of water.

As we approached the Athens airport, I got a little knot in my stomach. I knew Chris would be okay flying on his own -- he is only 26. But a mother never ceases to be concerned. We left instructions on where we would meet him if all worked out. After picking up our luggage and departing the security area, we turned the corner and all my worries were relieved. There sprawled out on a small airport chair was Chris snoozing. He woke up, got up, and we all got a great big hug. A little tear came to my eye. Now there were four.

One more day in Athens to view the Parthenon and its surroundings, then off to the beach in Kalamata.

Mount Athos

On Friday, June18, Jonathan and I headed for Mt. Athos. At one time there were over 100 monasteries dating back to the 5th century. Now there are 20 active monasteries, most of which are Greek, but a few of different Orthodox jurisdictions including St. Panteleimon a Rusian monastery that once housed 2000 monks and now about 250 to 300. There are 1500 or so monks today in the various monastaries. Our day began at 5:45am for a two hour bus drive from Thessaloniki to Ouranoupolis, at the entrance of the third of three fingers of the Halkidiki peninsulas. We then boarded a ferry for another two hour journey to Daphne, the port of entrance to the Holy Mountain. We were accompanied by about 130 other pilgrims, all men through the magnificent waters of the Aegean Sea, bluer and cleaner than any waters I have ever witnessed. We landed and then proceeded to a small bus waiting for us and some 12 others to the Monastery of Simono Petra, our destination. As we climbed the mountain we observed the breathtaking vistas of the Aegean below and the jagged peak of Mt. Athos above, similar to the majestic 14ers of the Colorado Rockies with the exception that it shoots straight out of the sea. We rounded a bend and there before us, perched like an eagles nest on a high cliff was the 1000 year old Monastery, home now to 55 monastics. We were received with genuine hospitality which included food and drink, shown to our rooms with time for exploration of the area and monastery prior to vespers. I was met and received by Fr. Iakovos, a schoolmate of mine from Seminary who is the Secretary to the Abbot, Fr. Elissaios and a monk at Simono Petra for 25 years. It was very nice to see him and he was a most gracious host. We attended vespers, a meal with the community, and then sat on the highest balcony with Fr. Iakovos, some 1000 feet directly above the sea below and watched a rain storm move in off the waters, including lightning and thunder. We then retired, preparing for the 4am services. Believe it or not, we made it to church with minutes to spare. Although Jonathan did not make it through the entire 3 and a half hour service, which included the midnight Services, hours, Orthros and Divine Liturgy, he was there for the first half of it. The chanting was beautiful, moving nicely and very meldically with a left and right choir going back and forth as Orthodox have done for centuries. The setting, the reverence, the precence of the saints all made for an incredible spiritual and asthetic experience. I failed to mention that the previous night we had a chance to venerate all of the relics at the Monastery which included pieces of the cross of our Lord, relics of St. Simon, St. Mary Magdaline, St. Barbara, St. Demetrios, St. Panteleimon, the left foot of Kyrikos-the little boy martyr whose relics we have at St. Catherine, and many more. After some more exploring of the area and monastery, pictures (which we will send later) we had our final services and a community meal before heading back to Daphne and reversing or steps back to Thessaloniki. A little note, when we got to Daphne a large group got off of the ferry before we boarded and I said to Jonathan, "Lets watch the people get off because I might know someone here". His response was something like, "Yeah, right dad. You're really going to know someone here. No sooner had I responded, "You never know, the Orthodox world is a small one", when someone said "Fr. Lou!". I looked and there was Chris a seminary graduate who visited Fr. Christodoulos a few times in Denver, and St. Catherine and then several other recent graduates of Holy Cross and Timothy Patitsas, leading them. We all embraced and Jonathan was at least mildly impressed at how small indeed the Orthodox world is!

We are now in Athens. Chris got into to town several hours ago. We finished a relaxing dinner on the roof of our hotel and I am gazing upon the beautifully lit Parthenon out my hotel window by our walk out balcony-which has a story all its own that I will complete this blog with. We arranged for two standard rooms at our hotel, paying for them in advance, one for the boys and one for Marsha and me. When we got here, the rooms were much less than we expected, to say the least. We were not very happy. I figured we had just two nights here and we had already paid for it so we could make due. Marsha had other thoughts. She went to the front desk and calmly explained the situation to which the manager essentially offered to us at no extra charge the roof suite, with flowered balcony an all. Marsha liked it so much that she even went through the flower pots and cleaned out the dead geraniums and straightened things up. We spent a good amount of time out on the balcony this evening. When you all are fast asleep, we will be enjoying coffee on our balcony in the morning gazing on the magnificent Parthenon....My wife is pretty special. Love to all from downtown Athens-Home of democracy. Fr. Lou

Thessalonika day 2 and 3

I had the opportunity to be alone for two days and doing exactly what I wanted when I wanted to. Now FL will tell you that is a normal thing, but that is not really true. For example, if I wanted to walk through one or two of the 300 shoe stores they have in this city, he wouldn't really want to do that. Or, when I came across a really cool store that had some very up-to-date home furnishing, he wouldn't do that either. So, I just strolled. My perspective was a little different today. I walked through the streets pretending I was an American that didn't understand any Greek and wanted to see and experience everything from a tourists perspective. I pulled this off very well. I tried to not be so obvious taking pictures. And wearing my Sketchers shape-ups, I knew I wouldn't be noticed. By the way, if I can't be a spokes-person for them after all the walking I have done, I'm sending them back with a letter. The first place I went was to Starbucks to order a Frappe. I'm not really into picking up souvenirs from every place in the world that I have been, but I have to tell you I had to add the "Starbucks from Thessaloniki" cup to my collection. Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention that there is a universal language that everyone understands. It is called Starbuckian. Yep, no matter where you are in the world, if you walk into Starbucks and order a grande decaf non-fat cappuccino, everybody completely understands you. Woo Hoo! And they all have the same deserts. They have the muffins, the brownies, the juices and the little sandwiches wrapped up in cellophane. I wonder where they make all the things and how they get to all the Starbucks every morning? It is like USA Today. From here I walked through the city tying to experience what life would be like here. At one point, I actually took a horse and buggy ride. You know those movies that you see where people actually do things and then they hit the rewind button and undo them. That is what I wish I had done; rewind the fact that I got in a horse-drawn carriage with a Dutch speaking driver who (and I hate to say this), smelled worse than the horse. I thought I'd get a scenic view of the ocean front. However, as we rode along, the only thing that I saw scenic was the back of the horse. All along the seawall were closed down kiosks lining up side by side. And I was on the inside, away from the water. I could see this was going nowhere fast. (Not fast enough!) I tapped him on the shoulder and told him this was far enough, paid him and got out. Note to self: Not every horse and buggy ride is Central Park! As I walked through the streets, I discovered something about the people here. They have more of a shoe fetish than I do. Every other store was a shoe store with hundreds of shoes. Dressy, casual, sporty, you name it, they had it. The shopping here is pretty amazing. The first day, which was Friday, the streets were filled with very pretty young Greek women. Their makeup was perfect; their hair was typically long, wavy and flowing halfway down their back, or short and very stylish. Dressed in fresh summer dresses, or shorts or skirts, they were typically thin with really nice figures. And they were all shopping. Every street I walked up or down, was for shopping. Very trendy nice stores and the clothes were not inexpensive. Along all these streets there are about two or three or more small cafes or tavernas where, as I mentioned before, the young men and women are sitting out drinking their frappes. I wonder if Greece is the capital of the coffee bean industry? Everybody drinks their frappes. On Saturday, I noticed that most of the people out were men and more middle-aged women or older. The older men were standing around in large groups talking. Most of the younger men I saw, were alone with their chidren, either in strollers or walking. The women seemed to shopping with a purpose or grocery shopping. I hadn't noticed the day before, but the grocery stores blended in with the other stores. You could have a complete grocerly store in a store front. As I continued on, I worked my way down to the theatre district. This area is next to the seawall where the horse didn't take me. I had lunch at an outdoor cafe that was attached to the main theatre. The theatres in Thessaloniki are closed for the summer. The area was pretty nice with a park-like area next to the water. I found a few really cool shops that I enjoyed walking into. And then I made my way back to the hotel. That night I had dinner alone in my room. Our room looks out onto a pier that has a large building on it and some rundown almost collapsed stable-like structures. (I know, doesn't sound that great. I actually don't notice them when I look out.) But over the building, I can see the water. It is a grayish-blue that blends in with the sky. If there weren't large barges and tankers on it, it would be hard to determine where the sky ends and the water begins. Slowly a thunderstorm rolled in. In the distance the misty clouds were touching the water and reflecting the sunlight. I could smell the freshness in the air as the breeze blew in. And then the lightening began. If I had had my choice of music, I could have turned it on the the tempo of the lightening. It was pretty cool to watch. It began to rain here but not hard. The lightening subsided and then it was dark.

FL and Jonathan returned from Mt. Athos on Saturday evening. During dinner we talked about their experience. FL started his blogging for the first time last night. Unfortunately, he was up at 3:30 a.m. for church and fell asleep blogging. I saved the draft and I am sure he will finish it today. I'm hoping Jonathan will write something too. Sunday, it's off to church and then I'm not sure. But I know that Chris leaves Denver at 10:30 a.m. on Sunday for Athens. Please say a prayer for him for a safe trip. Let's hope we can find him at the Athens airport when we arrive on Monday! I can't wait to see him. I wish Charlie could come too.


Mount Athos....

On Friday, the 18th at 6am Jonathan and I left the hotel in Thessaloniki to take a two hour bus drive ( a maximum of 40 miles per hour) on a winding mountain road to Ouranoupolis, at the tip of Mount Athos at which point we received our Dimonitirion - permit to enter Mt. Athos. We then boarded a ferry for the two hour ride to Daphne. The Aegean Sea and the scenery of the peninsula was absolutely magnificent. There are about 125 pilgrims plus clergy allowed to be on Mt. Athos daily, only men. We eventually came to the first monastery and then to five or six more of the twenty that are still functioning on the Holy Mountain before entering the main port of Daphne. The largest of the ones we the beautiful Russian Monastery of St. Panteleimon with its red roofs and green domes. At one time it housed 2000 monks! Probably a few hundred at the present time. Upon .......... (he falls asleep!) More to come.

Thessalonika

St. Marcella

Every place we have been thus far, the people have seemed solemn. Not really happy and not really sad. They weren't rude or unfriendly, and if you asked for something they were pleasant and gladly responded. As soon as we were on the plane in Brussels, somehow the atmosphere seemed different. People were smiling and talking to one another across the isles. The flight attendants were pleasant and courteous -- very pretty Greek girls with their hair dyed platinum blond and twisted into a bun on the the top of their head like Greek goddesses. I wondered if this was a new style or a requirement to work for Olympic airlines. We first flew to Athens where one of the passengers we had met on the plan, a nice young Greek boy, offered to direct us to our next departure gate. He spoke English very well. We had a nice conversation with him about many things and were impressed with his maturity at such a young age. Vasili was from Thessaloniki and when he learned that FL and Jonathan were going to Mt. Athos, he spoke about a friend who had encouraged him for many years to go, telling him the experience would be life-changing. He hasn't been yet. I think that sometimes we meet people in our lives for a reason. Maybe this chance meeting between this young Greek man and a priest from America was supposed to happen. He will now go to Mt. Athos, become a priest, maybe a bishop and do great things. He will then remember the American priest and his very nice presbytera and son, and bless us always. Hmm.

Okay, I have to be honest here. How does a country with such beauty and rich heritage and special people allow a city to become so rundown? As the taxi drove us through the city, all I saw was old decrepit buildings in need of repair and cleaning up. I was thinking we were just in the bad part of town and that at some point things we would open up into this beautiful California coastline area. There was graffiti everywhere. Posters of performers and adonis' from year's prior, were plastered on walls throughout the city. There are newer clean buildings randomly interspersed between old dirty ones. There is definitely no HOA's here. My first impression was "get me out of here". I was glad our hotel was a newer building. Getting in late, we stayed at the hotel for dinner.

The next morning, we met up with Marianne, a guide recommended by Fr. Luke who was to take us on a tour of the city. we asked Marianne about the condition of the buildings. She explained that apartments were owned and passed down from generations. The land was worth a lot of money, but the buildings not. Being individually owned it was up to the owner to rennovate. Some do and some don't. Our tour began with a short path that took us onto the main streets of the city. Most streets were named after the church which was at the end of the street. Our first stop was St. Sophia's. Interestingly enough, St. Sophia had three daughters, Faith, Hope and Love. Thus the saying "with Wisdom (Sophia), comes faith, hope and love. You can learn something new every day! There is even an icon depicting St. Sophia with her three daughters. Many of the ruins and the churches in Thessaloniki go back to the 3rd century, some even further. The icons were usually frescoes and mosaics, a lot of them had the faces desecrated because of the iconoclastic controversy. When the Turks took over and the Ottoman Empire began its 400 year reign, they plastered over the icons and used the churches for mosques. The churches are still in the process of removing the plaster to expose them. There is a lot of excavation that goes on continually. Apparently, there is an underground rail that is being built. At some point recently the diggers cam upon a site of ruins and discovered a solid gold statue. When something like this happens all work is halted until excavation is complete. After the 1978 earthquake, a whole market area was found, which dated back to the reign of the Roman Empire in the 3rd or 4th century. There were bathhouses and a small coliseum area. I wonder if the people that live here really comprehend the history of their city. We visited several churches but the one I enjoyed the most was St. Demetrius Cathedral where St. Demetrius' relics are held in a sterling silver casket. We learned that his original burial site was behind the altar and from there, fragrant myrrh oozed through the floor to a pool below where people would receive it and miracles were performed. His casket continues to produce myrrh bearing oil and ommit the sweet fragrance. On the feast day of St. Demetrius, the coffin is opened and the fragrant oil is gathered and dispursed for healing. As we venerated the site, the sweet smell permeated the air. This was truly miraculous. There were others buried at this church, the previous bishops of Thessaloniki for example, but there was no fragrance.

So I ponder the question; does one believe so much that a miracle happens? Or, does the miracle happen and we believe? Passing by a small women's' monastery -- St. Theadora, the story is told of a woman and her daughter who were forced to move into a monastery where her aunt was the abyss. The abyss did not care for her and through punishment told her she could not speak to her daughter out of penance. At one point she was forced to stand out in the cold snowy courtyard all night. When the abyss looked out, she saw angels protecting the niece (St. Theadora) and no snow was falling upon her. Realizing she was at fault and the angels were protecting Theadora, she went crazy and died. The daughter became the Abyss. There are stories like this throughout the city. The interesting part here is that there was a caretaker, a very pious but friendly woman who approached us and when she found out Lou was a priest, she took us underground to the place where remnants of the original church was standing. Lou introduced me as Presbytera and then Jonathan. Neither Marianne, (the guide), Jonathan, nor myself heard him say Marcella. But she immediately said Oh Marcella. And showed us an icon of St. Marcella that was in the church. Lou remembers that he told her my baptismal name, but the three of us, standing right there, did not hear the name mentioned. We shall never know. From this small monastery comes an underground spring. The caretakers name was Jerasoula, and we all agreed there was something about her that touched us.

It was a very hot day and we walked, once again, for miles. The streets of the city were busy with people shopping. Cafes line the streets here and lots of people were enjoying their frappes and cigarettes. There were places we could stop and catch the sea breeze passing through invisible tunnels, cooling us just enough to keep us moving on. After five hours of our pilgrimage, we sat at an outdoor cafe near the oceanfront and rested. It is hard to imagine history where people were persecuted for their beliefs and died at the tip of spears drawn by soldiers, as did St. Demetrius. When the freedom to believe was allowed, they proclaimed it loudly by building a place to house their prayers and devotion, and tradition. When you visit these churches and you are familiar with the Orthodox faith, you are not reminded of the oppression of the past, but rather the encouragement of our belief to focus on the present. It is hard to explain my thoughts here, so I will stop trying to sound so philosophical... History does move you.

Later, for dinner, we stepped out of the hotel and walked across the street to a small little taverna we found. There were tables in a courtyard along the side of the street. I was selfishly disappointed in the view of area. There were only a few tables with customers. At one of the tables there were about 6 people. They were speaking Greek and laughing and enjoying themselves. I observed them through the evening and admired their exuberance. Throughout the evening a few different people stopped by to join them and say hi. There was no intimidation on anyone's part to stand up, hug and express out loud their excitement when they saw one another. By the time we had our dinner, the tables were filled. We ordered a bottle of wine and dinner and as the warm humid air hung around us, we were quite comfortable when the sun began to set and the string of party lights attached to walls of the taverna turned on. The three of us discussed our day and then realized that two hours had passed and we were still comfortably talking and picking at our dinner consisting of a Greek village salad, saganaki, and pork souvlaki, which was absolutely delicious. We were even contemplating staying longer for desert and coffee, but it was late and Jonathan and Fl were leaving early in the morning for Mt. Athos. When we turned it down, our waitress looked at us as if we were aliens. Not aliens from America, but from Mars. Next time I think we will enjoy the full course. We asked for the check and 10 minutes later she brought it. No worries, things were good.

Throughout this entire experience, I have to acknowledge that we feel so blessed to have been given this opportunity to experience all that we have and continue to have. I even feel somewhat guilty because it was an abundantly generous gift that we received. In writing these experiences, we don't wish to offend anyone by sounding as if any of this is being taken for granted. We know that it is an experience of a lifetime and we are enjoying it as such. To not do so would be an insult to the Lily Foundation that provided us with this opportunity. I hope that in some way, if you are following and participating in our (mine so far) blogging, that you are getting a taste of our experiences and living somewhat vicariously through us.

More of Thessaloniki tomorrow.... OPA!

Brugge

Ah Brugge, if you have the opportunity to come here, you must. Any movie with a medieval setting could be filmed here. The town is designed like a wagon wheel and in the center of town is this incredible cathedral (Notre Dame). The tower was being repaired, but we were still able to walk through the interior of the church. Oh my gosh, the statues were so real and intimate. Is was as if they were connecting with you. There were renaissance paintings that were hundreds of years old depicting saints and religious themes. It was a powerfully dramatic church that displayed the crucifix of Jesus behind the altar rising to the ceiling. If one didn't believe in a God or the power of the Spirit, I would think they would now. Just the essence of the church breathes with a reverence and a sacredness that can't be denied. But I must say that there is a heaviness to this. A sadness. Like centuries of people praying with desperation or determination. It is as if their souls are left behind to tend to the weary or the despaired. That is what it feels like here. For some reason it is like the past cannot be left behind.

Our hotel, The House of Peelhardt, is pretty cool. It is adorned with traditional provincial style furnishing and baroque paintings, beautiful chandeliers and oriental rugs. I enjoyed sitting in the parlor area after breakfast sipping a cup of coffee with the sun filtering in through the floor to ceiling windows covered with shears and heavy tapestry curtains. It is very serene with the traditional American 50/60/contemporary music (must be a thing for Europe), playing in the background. This was a mixed blessing for me. I felt like I was in old movie in a town where you could spend days just wandering the brick pathways, window shopping for Belgium lace or chocolate. The art museums and galleries are in abundance as well as artist sitting alongside the pathways painting and sketching the towers and buildings of justice. I could be Lauren Bacall or Kathryn Hepburn, sitting waiting. For what I don't know, but I certainly enjoyed the calmness.
We took a ride on the canal that wraps around the city. Even though the weather was a little blustery, it seemed warmer by the water. The buildings are amazing with their little apartments that people adorn with window pots of geraniums and roses. Their patios had pots filled with trees and flowers. The churches were magnificent. It is definitely the main theme of these European cities; to place the churches in the center of the town square from where everything else filters. They are tall and beautiful edifices dedicated to their God, their heritage, and their way of life. There were gardens with swans and bridges where people were standing and holding hands and just breathing. Time here is standing still.

We met a couple from England. Nikki and Mac. They were such a nice couple. Mac had cerebral palsy and was a bit handicapped. Nikki owned a Harley Davidson shop in a small town near Strattford England which is where Shakespeare is from and close where we plan to visit when we travel through England. We connected really well. They thought that I looked exactly like her best friend and we all took pictures so she could send them to her. Nikki had been in Denver for a HD convention last year and she loved Colorado. She commented on the air and the sky and the mountains. It made us a bit homesick knowing that this is the most beautiful time of year. I try not to think about that too much. I feel more like a time traveler on my quest for the Holy Grail. It was not really our destination, but when you see and feel these churches it definitely touches you in a special way.

Our stay in Brugge was a short one, but definitely a pleasant one. If we ever have the opportunity to travel to Europe again, this would be a place to stop. Just stop. We departed early the next day traveling on the train back to Brussels. Our next stop -- Thessaloniki. "Here's looking at you Kid!"

Oetrange

One good thing to know about Luxemberg is that the discoteques are open all night and that there are many who party all night. Then they proceed to yell and scream and the police come with their sirens blasting and this took place all night long. Needless to say it was a little difficult getting up in the morning. Our first excursion for the day was to take a train to a small town called Oetrange where my great grandfather was born. I must say, we did a fine job of figuring out exactly which train to take and what time it was leaving. The train ride was only 15 minutes outside of Luxembourg city. No English today. The conductors only speak French and German. As we leave the baron metal yard of the railway station, Luxembourg City appears. The city itself is built around castles on high plateaus protected by rock and stone walls that meet the river below. There are cobblestone streets lines with colorful row houses surrounding the rivers with the towering castles above. In the center of the old town, is the Notre Dame of Luxembourg which is a beautiful church announcing the town's heritage. The government offices surround this area with lush gardens and trees throughout. The countryside is very rich with rolling hills and rich farm-land meadows. I hear the conductor announce Oetrange and I get a chill. I'm actually going to a place where my great grandfather was born. We get ready to depart. The train comes to a halt and we move to the doors. They don't open automatically and we are standing there waiting. Then we realize we should be opening them ourselves. Nothing in English... we suddenly panic realizing we don't know how to get out. We look at each other and realize that the ignorant American's can't figure out how to open the door. The conductor's only concern was to arrive and depart the stations on time. The train moves on. Not to worry, we decide to get out at the next stop. I cxouldn't tell you the name of the next town, but we did figure out how to open the door. Departing the train, there was virtually no one around. This town was surprisingly modern. The houses were close together and not really big, sort of like row houses but well designed. The yards were full of trees and flowers and the back yards opened into large meadows. Most of the cars we saw were Mercedes or BMW's with a few Volkswagens and even Fords. It didn't look like an old country village at all but more like a resort town. There were no buses running because it was Sunday. Not sure whether or not we would find anyone who could help us find our way, we decided to walk. As we turned the corner, appearing out of nowhere was what we thought to be a mirage... could it be true? Yes! A Greek Restaurant in the heart of this small town in Luxembourg. Eureka! As we approached we could smell the familiar olive oil, garlic, oregano, placed ever so heavily upon any edible surface that it could possibly find. People were leisurely dining on the patio. We walked in with confidence, knowing that George or Nick or Spyro will be able to help us find our way. Either the waitress didn't understand our English, or anyone, anywhere can open a restaurant and give it a Greek name with a blue and white sign and columns. According to her, there was nobody there that could speak Greek, and even worse, the owner was not Greek. So we asked for the distance to Oetrange, which she advised us was about 4 or 5 kilometers. (About 2 miles) straight down the road. This is now known as flying by the seat of your pants. Enjoy the scenery as we strolled through town, we took pictures of the neighborhoods and the meadows. It was actually quite enjoyable for a while. We passed through about 3 adjoining towns. Getting the feel of the lifestyle and the countryside. I began to imagine my great grandfather walking through the same areas, breathing the same air and enjoying the same blue skies. After about an hour and a half, we realized the waitress was probably not the best person to get any information from. We had walked about 7 miles. At one point I felt like the Von Trapp family wandering the through the countryside with our knappsacks. Jonathan begged me to stop singing Do Re Mi after starting at the beginning several times. The area was so beautiful, it made me wonder why anybody would want to leave this and move to an unknown country so far away from home. And why wouldn't they pass on this heritage to their children or their grandchildren. I don't believe any of my family have ever come back to visit. No worries, we finally arrived at Oetrange. Usually records are kept at the churches which are typically located in the center of the towns. The cemetaries are usually connected. They are also great landmarks because they tower above everything else. Unfortunately, the church was locked and there was nobody around. There was a cemetary but most of the graves were newer. We were not able to read the name on the older graves. But all of this didn't really matter. What was important was that I was in the same town where my great grandfather was born on the other side of the world. We walked back to the train station and caught the next train back to Luxembourg.

At the restaurant that night we met a couple from Belgium. The husband was quite a character and was very familiar with movie stars and singers. His favorites were Dean Martin and John Denver. His English was very limited but he did a great job of communicating. His wife's English wasn't nearly as good, but we totally understood her when she commented that Jonathan looked like the boy that went to Hogwarts -- Harry Potter. That was funny.

The next night we slept so much better. After breakfast we toured the town of Luxembourg. All in all, it was a very moving experience coming here. Beyond the tourist attractions, visiting the town of Oetrange and wandering through the countryside, this is my heritage. I am a part of this. I am Luxembourgian. Wow!

Aurevoir

The Church of St. M. Magdleine

The last day in Paris was somewhat a leisure one. We walked along the Rue de Madelein where the Church of St. Mary Magdelin rests, in the center of the square. One would expect to see a typical church with its skyward spires and crosses. This church is the size of the Parthenon. It looks like the Parthenon. The outside has elaborate sculptures in relief, of Jesus and the apostles. Columns surround the outside pretending to hold the structure up. The inside is designed very similar to Notre Dame. There are beautiful statues throughout where candles are lit and prayers are read.

When I see the artwork on these buildings and the detail used, it is incomprehensible how such things can be created. From the center of the square we walked about 3 miles to the gardens in front of the Louvre. The French not only love their architecture, they spare no expense on their gardens. When one looks at the Louvre, it doesn't appear to be a museum at all. It is a huge (I know I use that word too much, but I don't know how else to describe it), U-shaped fortress. Large domes with gargoyles and statues. Directly in front is an Arch which Napolean had built. It holds up the statue of a horse-drawn chariot, Oh, and did I mention the horses and chariot are blue? Not a worn out tired blue --a beautiful bright blue. We almost talked ourselves out of going into the Louvre. After three days of walking and sight-seeing we were ready to rest. I'm so glad we didn't. This place seems to have no beginning and no end. I learned two things about Paris yesterday. The first: If seeing the Louvre is part of your "bucket list", you should go as soon as possible because it will take 20 years to see everythinig this famous museum has to offer. No. 2 is: always carry plenty of euro change with you in case you need to use the restroom. There are no exceptions here. Any look of desparation dos not work. You simply have to pay to get in. I learned the hard way. I don't want this blog to read like a history book so I won't go into details about when why and how the Louvre was built, what is remarkable to me is the size. If you were to move the Louvre to Denver, you would have to clear the downtown area out. Between the gardens, the square and the buildings --

Saying goodbye to Paris was okay. Three days of sight-seeing was perfect. I know there is so much more to see and experience here. But walking was a great way to "feel" the city. Moving on, we packed our bags and took a cab to the train station heading for Luxembourg. The train was to leave at 4:09 sharp. It did, and I was on it! It was a little cumbersome carrying all our bags onto the train, but we settled in just fine. Jonathan might describe it a little differently, but who needs young sarcastic humor?

Why is it that train stations seem to be in the worst part of town? When pulling out we saw the industrial sector and the tenament housing with graffitti everywhere. After about 15 minutes, the plush farmlands began to appear. Everything was like a picture book: Rolling hills, plowed to perfection; round bails of hay perfectly placed in the midst of green pastures; with patches of bright green healthy trees that obviously get plenty to drink. The farm houses were few and far between with their a-framed red tile roofs. The train was very fast and smooth. Zipping along we passed another train and it felt like a ghost and just flashed by our eyes. As I sat mesmerized by the whole experience, I began to have sort of a Dr. Zivago type experience. We were so far from home, not having any real contacts here. A language barrier is a loney thing. I could hear "Laura's Theme" playing in the background. (not really).

Arriving at the station in Luxembourg, we departed and hailed a cab. Well, really they were just parked outside. The cab driver loaded our bags into his trunk as we stammered through the name of our hotel and the address. He then took the bags out and pointed across the street. We walked. Most people here speak French. So far it has been hard for me to determine what a true French person or Luxembourgian person looks like. Most people look like you could walk up to them and begin speaking English. Just like Americans. Luxembourg is its own country My paternal great grandfather is from a small town about 20 miles from Lux. His name was Nicholas Erpledange and he was born in 1870. He left for America, settling in Nebraska in 1884 where he ran a farm. (From this to Neb. -- go figure?) He had 11 children. My grandmother Gertrude, never experienced Luxembourg. To my knowledge they never came back. There are 3 cities in Lux. named Erpeldang. It is strictly a Luxembourgian name. After a late dinner it didn't take long to welcome a good night's sleep. As I closed my eyes, it was hard for me to grasp the fact that just 2 generations ago, a little over 100 years, my great great grandfather was here.

P.S. My spellcheck is not in German so I can't check. All my words appear to be mispelled -- how funny!

I love Paris in the Summer when it sizzles....

It really wasn't sizzling today. I just like the song.... The Eiffel Tower. Wow. One of the 8 great wonders of the world. And we were on it. I think it is comparable to the World Trade Centers -- except still standing, or the Empire State Building. Lots of tourists, lots of cameras and lots to see. I can't believe Paris is as big as it is. The small part that we see (and it really isn't small), with all it's history and buildings, barely makes a dent in the expanse of the entire city. I bet most of the Parisian's don't even come downtown. Hundreds of apartment buildings. The difference between here and NY is that they are all the same color. And maybe the language. NY might not have as many French speaking. Also, we don't sell the funny little plastic models of the Eiffel Tower hooked on what appears to be a giant key ring.

We returned after walking most of the day to a relaxing dinner at the hotel restaurant. The doors were open and the air from outside was drifting in. We could hear the cars passing by and the people walking in the streets were within earshot of our conversation. We met a couple of ladies from America. It was funny because I was listening to these ladies speaking. and it seemed so normal to hear English. Then it dawned on me that I was listening to English in a foreign county. Hello! Conversation pursued with exchanges back and forth on where are you from and why are you here.

As we experience a lot of the local atmosphere, it has come to our attention that most of the French are crazy about soccer. It has also come to our attention that the World Cup soccer tournament has begun and a lot of Paris is excited. As we were dining tonight in the restaurant, intensity was brewing as the game progressed and not only could you hear cries from our location, but throughout the street. We were aware that people were watching on big screen T.V's and cheering loudly. As I was carrying on what I felt was a normal conversation with FL and Jonathan, I noticed that the attention I thought I had was not completely focused on what I had to say. They were actually watching and getting into the excitement of the game. So here we are, halfway around the world, after watching the NBA playoffs, the Rockies playing night after night, Tiger Woods competing the latest golf tournaments, and of course the tennis tournaments going on, I can now be ignored for the World Cup Soccer championship. Some things just don't change.

As the day ends, we look forward to our trip to the Louvre tomorrow. And then off to Luxembourg. It is a country approximately 30 miles in diameter. My grandmother's family is from there. We arrive tomorrow night and hope to be able to go to church on Sunday where my great grandfather was baptized and my great great grandfather was buried. I know..... exciting. I will give more updates on the Erpleding family history when I get to Luxembourg. We travel by Euro rail tomorrow evening. I have no clue what is to come but I will keep you up to date.

Again, FL would say something, but he is sound asleep. Jonathan is sketching in his sketchbook at the window of our hotel looking out onto the Rue De St. Honore. Here they actually let you open windows and let in the fresh air. Viva la France! Until tomorrow....

Good morning all,

Day 2.5 in Paris. Today we walked and walked and walked. There is so much to see here. The architecture is amazing and the streets are overflowing with people and activities. We traveled from our hotel passing by the Grand Museum and the Petite Museum. When they say Grand they certainly mean it. When they say Petite -- it doesn't appear to translate the same -- huge. Grand museums and architecture, there is really a lot to see here. We walked about 6 miles along the Seine River, passing the Louvre (which comes later), and magnificent churches and edifices. I almost got a gold ring from a person on the street who said he found it and handed it to me, just to turn around later and ask for money. Being very persistent, I returned the ring and walked away.

We had lunch at a local cafe on a cobble street and watched the passers-by. I order something that I thought might taste good. I couldn't repeat the name. But I knew it was a sandwich of some sort and I thought I could reason my way through the description. Oops. I had ordered an open-faced egg sandwich, sunny-side up as we Americans would say, with melted cheese. FL and I switched. The French onion soup was delicious. Jonathan is sticking with his new passion -- club sandwiches. The fashion on the streets is very conservative. Mostly skinny jeans and moderate lenghth skirts with boots or sandals. Nothing too over-the-top, and not much color. The people are friendly but they don't seem to smile too much. They are helpful when you need it but don't appear eager to help.

Moving on, feeling more refreshed, we walked to the Luxembourg Gardens, which is a huge park with fabulous landscaping. Lots of flowers and pots and trees and people recreating. There were two open-air concerts. Very relaxing. We wandered back through the cobblestone streets and rows of buildings with store-front shops. Great for window shopping.
Later we took a cab to the Eiffel Tower (as shown right - obviously), but decided it was a little windy and cool to go up. We had dinner at a lovely restaurant at about 10 p.m. I cannot believe how many people are out late. We didn't finish until midnight. Feeling adventurous, we decided to walk back to the hotel only to find that we really didn't know where we were. Even asking directions didn't help. So we picked up a cab. It feels very safe here because there are so many people out. Today (Friday, I think), we are going to experience the Louvre and definitely go back to the Eiffel Tower.

We are all enjoying the experience. Jonathan is giving FL a hard time because when he (FL) tries to communicate with the French, he (FL) begins speaking broken English with some kind of accent that we can't really decipher. I don't think the French can either. The imitating is quite comical.

We are off and running for the day. Bon Apetite!
(That is the only French she knows -- Jonathan)
(I know. I should have studied harder in my college French class! - M)

From Paris with Love

It is finally here. D-Day (Departure Date). We finished the yard work, finished all our preparations that we left until the last minute -- why does that happen? Two years to prepare and it still goes to the last minute. Hopefully we coverd everything that needed to be accomplished. Before we left I took a walk with Charlie. I wanted to breath in the Colorado air and look at the evening sky in all of its glory. I knew that, even though there was excitement for our new adventure, 45 days was a long time to be away from home. So with all of its splender I bade farewell to that wonderous Colorado sunset. Charlie and I turned and went home.

That was approximately 48 hours ago. And now our journey has begun. We landed at London's Heathrow Airport about 12:00 noon today after a late night flight. The airport was clean and bursting with actitivity. What a cool airport. We arrived at our first destination -- Paris -- at about 7:30 p.m. The airport here is older. Paris is very green and busy. At first it reminded us a lot of New York City. We arrived at our hotel where we are actually staying directly across from the American Embassy and around the corner from the Presidential Palace. Just glanced in but it looks beautiful. There are a lot of policeman around.

We are all very tired having been up for close to 24 hours, but we walked to a sidewalk cafe. I know that this short excursion from our hotel to the cafe had nothing to do with every generation except I have to say that there are a few generations in my family who could really appreciate it ... Every designer boutique you could image was within walking distance. Lou and Jonathan didn't realize I knew so much French! Let's see; I saw Hermes, I saw Channel, I saw Cartier, Perla, Gottier, just to name a few. But wait there were more: Valentino, Ralph Lauren, Gucci... and that was only within 2 blocks! I really didn't have time to stop in and it isn't really what we came for, but the window shopping for those 30 minutes was outstanding!

Tomorrow, the journey begins. Paris isn't necessarily the place where any of our ancestors actually lived, (that we know of), but I'm sure that if they had the opportunity. it would have been a city that they would have visited. So we are visiting in their honor. I am going to close for now because my brain is shutting down due to lack of sleep. I'm sure if FL and Jonathan were still awake they would have something to add. But, for today, we say goodnight "with love, from Paris".