Time to Party!

Congratulations to our ever lovable uncle Bert, he is turning $# on Wednesday. Funny, he doesn't look a day over #%. They say that being around children will keep you young.

We wish we were there to celebrate with you!

Love,

TR & DG

A Nice Private Jet

Three weeks ago when we flew to Atlanta this little private jet was parked at the local airport. I know it looks like an airliner, but it is one man's personal jet, a new Boeing 747-400. The owner had been in town for a couple of days attending a horse auction. The ground crew loaded two van's full of luggage onto the plane, no worries about the carry on limit here. Rumor has it that the owner has an Airbus A-380 on order so that he can have the biggest and best in the sky; we are going to need a bigger airport.

TR

Phoenix Park Hotel

Here I am enjoying the view from our $300 a night hotel room hear Capital Hill in Washington, DC.

TR

Time to Celebrate

Time to celebrate! It was announced this afternoon that the state of Kentucky was awarded three years of funding to create a program that DG and his program are essential to the development of. The email read, " we have been funded, congratulations on three more years of continued employment." This is the first time in two years that the "Foundation" has had secure funding to continue DG's work on behalf of seniors.

TR

Clock set for 4:30 AM

We need to be at the airport by 5:30 AM for a 6:35 AM flight to DC. DG has a few days of rather intense meetings, then a late flight home on Wednesday.

TR

Apple Season

Fall was in the air a week ago, this morning it is back to 84 degrees. I watch the weather in Florida, Michigan and here in Kentucky. Not unusual it is warmer here then it is in the other two places this morning.

Fall reminds me of apple harvest season. Not much of an apple crop here in this part of the country, it snowed and froze hard in early April in the middle of the bloom. What we need are apples preserved from the prior years to tide us over at times like this. The Norman’s figured out how to do this centuries ago when the perfected a couple of delights known as Norman Cider and Calvados.

When DG and I were in Normandy in August he ordered a bottle of Norman Cider with dinner one evening. Oh my, good stuff. It has a nice fall crisp flavor with a slight scent of autumn on a farm. It is very easy to drink, and it kind of sneaks up on you, it is about 11% alcohol. When we finished dinner DG was wondering back to the wonderful hotel room and he saw a freshly cut field of wheat. Suddenly he had fond memories of walking through wheat stubble as kid, three minutes later we are standing in the middle of a 50 acre wheat field in the middle of Normandy, remembering the joys of the past and creating memories for the future.

If the cider is not quite enough for you, the Norman’s also distill it into a heavenly brandy known as Calvados. Driving back to the hotel in Normandy late one afternoon stopping at various D-day sites and memorials, we came across signs for a country fair. After a moment’s hesitation DG pulled in and parked next to a Morgan. The only one he has ever seen on the wheel. The fair was in a freshly mowed hay field behind a village church. On the left as we entered the field there was a line of local ponies with ride offered for 5 Euros. Looking at the relative size of DG and the ponies, I was glad that he decided to pass on that (though he would not have had far to fall.) The local farmers were just sitting up displays of local vegetables, cheeses, wines and Calvados. DG bought a single serving sample bottle from the farmer in this picture. It was the distilled essence of autumn in the Calvados region of France, a taste worth liberating France for.

TR

A tall blonde in Amsterdam

I think DG needed another one of these this afternoon. He was up two-hours before sunrise and off over the river and through the woods for a breakfast meeting with the governor and a couple-hundred right wing nut cases. If they mentioned the all and powerful W one more time I think he might have snapped. When he had finally had all he could take he made like the cowardly lion and ran down the corridor and leapt for safety. Then there was the email. Did everyone get the memo that DG was going to be out of the office all day and this was the day to send email? In a fit of sanity, DG turned it off about 4:00 pm; the messages will all be there tomorrow.

TR

Slow Train to Amsterdam

So much of my travels are hurry up and wait that once in a while it is nice to just take my time. To indulge in this I took the slow train from Brussels to Amsterdam. The ride took about 4 hours and stopped in about 15 places. The train was full of young backpackers going to places like the Rotterdam, Antwerp and Amsterdam for what ever reason it is that young people go to these places. The Dutch allow smoking on the platform between the cars. The moment we crossed the boarder from Belgium to the Netherlands the young people started going onto the platform to smoke tobacco. At least it smelled like they were smoking tobacco. We were not across the square in front of the train station in Amsterdam when someone within sniffing distance lit up something that DG had not smelled in 25 years, oh yeah, on the side walk, in clear view at midday on a Sunday. The rules are different there (though I think this is still illegal.) Ah, yes, a nice relaxing slow moving visit (even if we were doing the forced march through western Europe.)

TR

I am not in this picture, because I was hiding from the smell. Yes, the ancients burned, composted and recycled. From the smell of things at Fountains Abbey they also used composting toilets. It is amazing that the smell persists after all these years. I would not want to go back to living like that. No way!

TR

Fountain’s Abbey

Our adventure at Fountain’s Abbey began with an endless stroll through the woods. The trail was pretty and winding and ended with a climb up a steep hill and lunch (Woodchuck received an email with a picture of the ale of the day.) Boy was I ready for an ale after that climb. After lunch we went back down the hill to the ruins of the Abbey. Wow! And this is a few hundred years after Henry the VIII had the roof torn off and the place left to collapse. This shows what happens when you build to last.

TR

Revisiting the past, to see the present

There are certain second trips that have to be made. No logical explanation, someone just has to go. A second visit to an exotic location is generally going back to a revisit a place that someone really enjoyed visiting the first time. But, what about going back to visit someplace that was ok but held no special memories? DG used the explanation for returning to Amsterdam that he needed find out if it was the city or the company on his first visit that left him feeling ambivalent about the city. He felt compelled to return. WH coined the phrase, psychically redeeming the city. And so we were off for a quick overnight stay in Amsterdam.

In the vein of trying to decipher if was the city or the traveling companion that was a pit in 1991, there were a couple of things we had to do. We stayed in the same hotel, under new ownership, but as wonderful as ever right on the square across from the main train station. The hotel was not the issue with Amsterdam; it was and is very nice, very comfortable and very accommodating. Next, we had to take a boat tour of the canals. DG even bought a picture of us boarding the boat, to go next to the one taken 16 years ago (he has aged and picked up a couple of pounds; but his hair is about the same.) The boat tour was nice, probably nicer in the winter, the greenhouse windows made it a bit warm for we Antarctic types.

These things being accomplished we looked for differences. The first trip DG flew in landing in the fog with near zero visibility and out with a quick taxi ride to and from the airport. This time we arrived by slow train. Between Brussels and Amsterdam the train made about 15 stops in about four hours. We slowly cruised through Dutch countryside passing idyllic villages, modern and traditional windmills. On the first trip DG failed to see a windmill, because you have to leave town to see one. Fear and insecurity kept DG and his traveling partner 16 years ago from straying from the very well beaten tourist path. Then we explored the city. Now Amsterdam has a colorful side, some would say seedy side. For many this is part of Amsterdam’s appeal, for others it is the source of great concern. The first time DG visited there was great concern about turning down many of the narrow shadowy side streets. This time the attitude was different. Not careless, or reckless, but willing to stop, look, listen and proceed. Other then being solicited by a couple of working girls (boy were they barking up the wrong tree) things went very well. The journey to rediscover Amsterdam was also a journey of self discovery for DG.

Bottom line, Amsterdam is still a strange town. Not on the list of places we want to return to over and over again (we do need to go back and see a museum or two that we lacked time for on this trip.) At the same time Amsterdam is an interesting city that will help you see and understand yourself just a little better.

TR

Peachtree MARTA Station

There is a raging debate going on in Atlanta over a proposed local ordinance that would make it a crime (punishable by a fine of up to $500 and up to 6 months in jail) to wear pants hanging so low that the wearers' “private parts or but cleavage” would be exposed. As one commentator pointed out, thank god most of them wear underwear. Another person pointed out that she had seen too many pairs of boxers and one thong (on a man) was more then enough THANK YOU! Now it is important to point out that the style trend of very, very low rise jeans does not appear to have reached Atlanta as yet (when the world comes to an end you want to be living in the south, it takes a couple of years longer for things to catch on there.) The controversy is about young men wearing oversized pants that hang low (in many cases falling off) exposing generous amounts of underwear. I know this style is passé in modern parts of the world, but still very common in Atlanta.

One burning question, if this ordinance becomes law, what about penguins? Will I be free from arrest in the subway stations when I return to Atlanta?

TR

Squirrel is right, it is humid a squirrel shit in Atlanta.

Now where was that Tea Room?

When we finished touring the cathederal in York with Bert and Someone, it was tea time. We consulted the maps, and searched the memories for a great place for tea. Here I am taking an up close and personal look at a bronze model of the city in front of the Cathederal. Finally it was decided to try the National Trust tea room. We arrived and were told that tea and coffee were available, but no cake. We were mere minutes to late for them to serve cake. Strange rules in England, I had heard about odd pub rules about serving hours (that appear to all have been reformed) and have apparetently been replaced by cake rules in the National Trust tea rooms. No problem, we went next door where Someone was met by the most freightening tea lady in York. She said yes, tea, coffee, cake, but you have to finished in 20 minutes (or what?) She was so scarey that Someone was afraid to ask her, or what? He ordered quickly, service was fast, and afternoon tea was completed precisely on schedule. At that point the staff was someplace in the back room, no where to be found, no one to take back the tray of empties. We slipped away before the dragon lady came back to life.

DG and I are off to Atlanta for a confernce. The next update will be Sunday or Monday.

TR

2nd Anniversary

It has been two years and roughly 165 postings since I started sharing my adventures with my friends here on The Adventures of Travel Penguin. I have done my best to take you along on my memorable, if somewhat unconventional adventures. I hope that we have kept you entertained and made you laugh once in a while. I hope we have not made anyone cry. DG tells me that he has enough pictures stored up to post a couple of times a week for the next 3-4 months. In that time we will be in the air to Atlanta, Washington DC twice, and San Diego gathering new material to keep us going.

We really love reading your comments. Even when you hijack my blog, it is fun to read. (Hint, post more comments, PLEASE!)

When you have a minutes join me in a toast to celebrate 2 wonderful years and many more to come.

TR

Grounded Again

This week the feds announced that they have started letting contracts for modernizing the air traffic control system, the first major upgrade since the 1960’s, but it will be 5 years or so before we start to move air traffic control into the satellite age.

The US is not alone in having air travel snafus. Here I am waiting for my train to leave the airport in Paris. Now we had not planned on taking the train. DG got the bright idea that flying would be faster, so he booked airline tickets from Amsterdam to Paris and Paris to Rennes down on the Normandy Britney coast of France. The flight from Amsterdam to Paris was delayed about 40 minutes, leaving a 30 minute mad dash to change terminals and planes in Paris. We made it to the gate in record time just as the line was forming to board. Very good. We stood for about 15 minutes and they announced a slight delay. About 30 minutes later they announced that the flight crew had boarded the aircraft and we would be ready to board momentarily. About 15 minutes later they put us on the bus that would take us all out to the plane. Then they made an announcement entirely in French that I could not hear over the screaming 2 year old and everyone started getting off the bus. Now it was about 65 degrees and raining outside, so the terminal was shut up like a thermos bottle with the heat turned up to about 85. After an hour or so the apparent need for improved marketing of deodorant in Europe appeared. Another half an hour or so and they cancelled the flight for technical reasons.

At this point it was fun to watch the French mob scene. Several people argued with the gate attendants that they couldn’t cancel the flight. Then they argued that the airline had to find us another airline. Then the mob finally won an argument that if they were going to keep us there they had to bring us food and drink (20 minutes later a cart arrived laden with sandwiches and soft drinks; god bless the French.) About an hour later they announced that they had figured out how to accommodate all of us and that we needed to go to baggage claim 12 and pick up our luggage and meet them at check-in 14.

The mob stood around and stared in disbelief. I verified 12 and 14 and stared for the door, just then a woman in a wheelchair stood-up (she can stand?) and bellowed in French that even I could understand that this was just a plot to get rid of us, and the moment we were out of sight the gate crew would disappear and leave us stranded (I still am surprised that I was able to understand that much French, an hour earlier a 2 year old had left me in the dust with his reply to me syaing to him in French, my name is TR and what is your name? That is the last time I tangle with French 2 year old.)

After a minute, I and about half of the mob headed for the baggage claim through a back door that bypassed the security check-point (held open by one of the friendly airline employees.) We went back and forth several times and I finally abandoned the mob, found the baggage claim and 30 seconds later had my bag and was on my way to check-in 14.

I am headed down the way and there is check-in 10, 11 and 12 and a wall. Oh god, maybe she was right! Where is check-in 14? I fumble around for a couple of minutes and finally ask the guy manning the metal detector and x-ray machine at a security check point. It took a minute to explain what I needed in my limited French and his even more limited English. While we are doing this a woman walked up the check point, held up her ticket and passport for no one to see, walked through setting off the metal detector and went on to catch her flight. He looked up, shrugged and ignored her; he was trying to help me (who says the French are rude.) When he finally figured out where I needed to go (down one floor) he unlocked a back door so that I could take the short-cut down (think I bypassed another security check point.)

I was first in line and yes Air France had a solution, they would put me on a train that left 6 ½ hours after the plane was scheduled to leave and get me close to my destination at 9:25 at night, instead of 2:30 in the afternoon. Away we go, the train was on time and it was only a $24 taxi ride from the train station to the aiport to pick up my rental car. I called and naturally the rental car desk in the train station closed 25 minutes before the train arrived.

Fun little car to drive. It reminded me of a French Plumbers van.

Next time I’ll take the train. Penguins just aren’t meant to fly.

TR

Alternative Nest In Case of Siege By Fuzzy Rodents

Everyone needs a little place to hide out, in the event of siege by fuzzy rodents. I think this place might work. It had a great library and study, and a whole room filled with a collection of chamber pots. Penguins have never used chamber pots . . . I really don’t see the point.

TR

A little place in the English Countryside

Millions of people dream about owning a little place in the English countryside. A weekend get-away. Here is a fine example. Nothing fancy or flashey, just a few dozen rooms and plenty of space for friends to park when they come to visit. I could see myself feathering this as a nice little weekend nest. DG needs to win the power-ball lottery . . . and SOON!

TR

The crenulated tower would come in handy when old "You Know Who" decides to invade with his band of merry rodents.

Congratulations To Mr and Mrs Squirrel

Now how long will this take to hatch?

TR

Free Range

Here I am out to pasture with the sheep in Yorkshire. DG is actually getting closer to being put out to pasture, but I won't comment on his aging.

I was surprised by the open range in Yorkshire. The sheep have such fluffy feathers and are so at ease on the range.

TR

TR Joins the Chorus

Here I am practicing with the York Minster Cathedral chorus. A flightless fowl really adds depth to the sound.

TR

Great Picture Isn't it?