the cotswold's

I’m looking down the calendar at the end of the school year and our holiday in Colorado, and Paul’s scheduled all kinds of weekend outings to help make the time pass even more quickly. We spent last Saturday night in the Cotswold’s soaking up the slow and relaxing English countryside. Just two and a half hours from London, and we were sleeping in a farmhouse B&B surrounded by fields of rye, hillside meadows with sheep, and geese cackling in the yard next door.
We spent Saturday in Broadway surrounded by honey-colored stone buildings and Sunday walking on a public footpath through fields of emerald green grass. On our walk, we passed through a storybook hamlet called Laverton, the archetypal English village. I expected to see Winnie the Pooh or Peter Rabbit around every bend even though they are from different counties altogether. The profusion of roses both domestic and wild are astonishing this time of year, and the air was heavy with their heady scent.

reykjavik

Our plane left the runway in London at 9:30, dark enough for the city to be a crown of lights with twilight quickly turning to night. Within in minutes, we were above the clouds and back into full sun. Our flight was three hours, and we landed with the sky turning the clouds red with the sunset. It was light enough at 12:30 when we went to bed that we had to make sure the curtains were pulled tight, all the seams closed. I have no idea how early the sun came up, but it was high in the sky by the time I was awake. Being able to make use of so much daylight after work is appealing, but I found it confusing when the light at 23:30 was what I’m used to seeing about the time I eat dinner. In a month or so, they will have weeks with no night.

Reykjavik is even smaller and less populated than Oslo, and we again experienced the feeling of being in a ghost town. It was relaxing to be away from the rush of cars and crush of people.

We spent our first day walking around the city, visiting the church that dominates the skyline, the geothermal storage towers with a viewing platform and revolving restaurant on top, and eating a highly recommended hot dog from a stand in the city center next to a flea market with an impressive fish market selling puffin eggs that are so colorful there is no need to decorate them at Easter.


We knew Iceland was expensive, so we made good use of the breakfast included with our room, then bought dinner at the supermarket. We had a cup of noodles each and improvised spoons from crackers until they disintegrated and then used stir sticks from the coffee service in the room.


On our second day, we joined a bus tour of the countryside where we viewed a geothermal plant from a distance, walked through the mid-Atlantic rift where North America and Europe are slowly being pulled apart, meandered around the area where the first and longest standing democratic assembly was formed, stood between the drops of a two-tiered waterfall, watched a geyser erupt every eight minutes or so, and gazed into the blue waters in the bottom of a volcanic crater.

The land on the entire drive was a vast plain of ancient lava covered in springy moss and hills mottled in golds, oranges, and reds from the heat under the ground. It was stunning scenery. When Iceland was first discovered, it was heavily forested and there is a reforestation program in progress, but it’s slow going.


We spent a few hours at the Blue Lagoon thermal pool before going to the airport on our last day. The blue-green milky water stood in stark contrast to the black surrounding lava, just as the warmth of the water contrasted with the chilly weather. Upon entering, the water is the temperature of a warm bath, but as we moved around the pool, a couple of acres in size, we discovered areas that felt like a hot bath to temperatures too warm for me to tolerate. We smeared silicon on our face and joined the other people for ten minutes of mud until it dried and we wiped it off. There seemed to be an even mix of foreign tourists and local Icelanders in the pool. Paul and I laughed when a loud woman with an distinct accent yelled at her husband to not put his glasses there or he’d lose them and another tourist paddling past us said, “I’m guessing she’s from New York.”

What we saw of Iceland was remarkable, and I recommend making a stop there on your next trip to or from Europe to the States.

dover

Along with seeing as much of Europe as we can while we have the handy hub of Heathrow nearby, we’re also trying to take in some of England. A few weeks ago, we spent a day in Kent with stops at Dover, Sandwich, and Canterbury. As our Lonely Planet says, the city of Dover isn’t worth the trip, but the walk along the cliffs was a perfect way to spend one of the first really warm weekends of the year.

We didn’t visit the castle, but we drove around it and viewed it from the cliffs. It’s an impressive structure, set just a little way off of the white cliffs and surrounded by green countryside. Some kind of crop was in bloom, Paul thinks rapeseed, making the scene even more stunning. Our walk along the cliff tops took us past a large field of the flowers, which smell like honey. We met many friendly walkers on our two mile stroll to a lighthouse and back.

From Dover, we drove north to Sandwich for a lunch of …fish and chips. This village has a nice old center of meandering narrow cobble stone streets that we walked before getting in the car and taking the scenic country route to Canterbury. I was impressed with how rural England can be. We walked around the walled medieval city and had a cup of coffee before heading home. It was a great day trip, and I hope to do more of these over the summer.

Oslo

We took advantage of the bank holiday last Monday and spent the long weekend in Oslo. This was my first visit to Scandinavia. My first impression was of the airport, which looked just as I expected, all steel and blonde wood and glass like an Ikea store. Our bus to the city was easy to find and ran on time like all the transportation that we took while there. It’s a smooth running country. We noticed that everyone on the motorway seemed to be driving at a reasonable speed and with plenty of space between cars. We saw no traffic violations nor heard any loud mufflers or horn honking the entire weekend. Norway is a few weeks behind England in weather, so we got to see the sweet green of new leaves and tulips as tall as irises. The hills were a lovely contrast of the dark needles of the pine trees and the light leaves of what I think were mostly elms. There was rain and mist intermittently that made the scene even more charming. I would have appreciated gloves and a hat at times, but we managed the cold with frequent stops in cafes.


The locals sat outdoors under blankets provided by the restaurants. Many had overhead heaters as well. The greater Oslo area has around 750,000 people, and after London’s crush, we found it eerily quiet. We’d read that Norwegians love recreation in the outdoors and thought the city might fill on Monday. There were a few more cars and people, but it was still quiet by comparison. We visited the most popular tourist attraction, the Olympic ski jump, which can be seen from the city. We took the metro there. Within five stops, we were out of the city and climbing the hills into suburbia. The homes are a bit of a cross between Swiss chalets and Romanian villas, like gingerbread houses without the gingerbread. There were crowds of mountain bikers getting on the train after what looked to be a day of riding in the mud. The advertisements and route maps for the metro are not affixed to the walls of the train so that people with muddy pants can unhook the posters from the wall and sit on them to protect the cloth seats. So civilized.


While we were at the top of the ski jump, it started to rain and even a few flakes of snow fell. The view of the city and fjord are worth the trip and the climb of about 50 stairs. We also took a two hour boat ride down the Oslo fjord with commentary in English and German and blankets. Oslo’s expensive so we didn’t do many things that included an entrance fee, but we did go to the resistance museum inside the castle. We tried to go to the Munch museum, but found it closed after a longish walk to get there. The Scream hasn’t been returned yet anyway.



We spent the warmest and sunniest day in a statue park with hundreds of human statues engaged in every imaginable activity all by the same sculptor. Our hotel was located fairly close to City Hall where the Nobel Prize is awarded. I don’t feel a pressing need to return to Oslo, but I think seeing some of the natural beauty of western Norway would be nice.

Rome

Mom, Dad, Paul and I spent Easter weekend walking Rome. I think the bottom of my feet have bruises. All of the major sites were more crowded then I’ve ever seen them before, but St. Peter’s and the Vatican Museum were the only two that really affected us. We waited in line for two hours to get into St. Peter’s. Many of you have been there and remember being able to wander about the basilica freely. The entire center isle was filled with chairs for the service, so we were limited to the outer edges. Michelangelo’s Pieta was separated by a curtain and the area within was clogged with people. Nevertheless, the place was awesome.



The square in front of the church was also filled with chairs, and the line was four deep and ran along the columns in a nearly complete circle of the piazza. The line for the Vatican Museum was equally impressive, snaking along two walls, and all the way to the side entrance to the basilica’s piazza. No, we did not attend the service. We basked in pagan Rome at the Colosseum and Forum instead.



I needed the walking and standing to counter my indulgence in gelato every day and delicious pasta and wine every night. Along with the ‘must see’ sites, we wandered through neighborhoods that were new to me.



I’ve seen enough churches to last me a while. As always, I leave Rome wanting to know art and architecture better but feeling like I’ve learned a bit more through osmosis.



I’ve had two weeks off from school and don’t mind going back on Monday. It’s a downhill slide until the end of the year now. The seniors have one week of classes and then are dismissed to prepare for their IB exams. The tenth graders are going to Verdun and some other places in France and Belgium for a week at the end of April. The ninth graders are spending a day with the Royal Shakespeare Company and watching Macbeth. I will teach Hamlet, The Taming of the Shrew, and Romeo and Juliet at the same time. Work doesn’t get much better.

And of course there’s more traveling to do. We’re hitting the north for England’s bank holidays: Norway, Iceland, and Denmark.

Andorra

This job comes with more holiday time than I've ever had. It also comes with more paperwork, a longer commute, and longer meetings than I've had. Andorra was great fun.


ANDORRA'S CAPITAL: ANDORRA LA VELLA


WAITING FOR THE NIGHT TRAIN BACK TO PARIS


SKI LESSONS


THE WINDSWEPT SLOPES


As always, Paul made all the travel arrangements. All I had to do was pack! We took the Eurostar to Paris and enjoyed a meal and a walk while we passed the time until our night train to the French/Andorran boarder. Our trip home was the same thing in reverse. Those two weekends in Paris came right after the birthday/proposal weekend in Paris, making for three weekends in a row in that romantic town. Isn't life grand?

We skied every day but the last when we took a bus ride through the rugged mountains to the capital city to check out tax free shopping. The people were friendly, and the slopes offered everything we wanted except snow. We got spoiled by the snow in Colorado last year. Still, the prices were low enough that we could afford two mornings of private lessons with Alejandro from Argentina. My skiing vastly improved thanks to this and then slowly deteriorated as the week went by and I drifted into old habits. More lessons next time!


Mom and Dad are coming to Europe for the first time since I moved over here. Actually it's the first time since I graduated from high school. Along with seeing some English sights, the four of us are going to Rome for Easter. Look for my next blog to be about that.

Hope you are all well.

recipe for turning forty

Turning 40 has all kinds of attachments, I guess. People raise their eyebrows at the very least anyway. For me, it’s been as easy as turning 20 and 30. Maybe I’ve found the perfect recipe.

Ingredients:
Europe
Younger boyfriend
Paris
Travel

▫ First move to Europe a few years before turning 40. This will make you feel like you’re 27 instead of 37.
▫ Find a younger boyfriend. Not too young mind you. Like an avocado that you press the stem end for ripeness, you can check a younger man’s readiness. Has he settled into his career? Does he have a savings account? Does he own real estate? These are good ripeness tests. But you don’t want over ripe. Is he spontaneous? Does he like to travel? Does he like to dance?
▫ Spend two years meeting your boyfriend in romantic places all over Europe. I recommend Berlin, Paris, Amsterdam, and Lisbon.



▫ The last ingredient is a bit out of your control, but this is true of many recipes. You can mix everything together perfectly but the oven may heat unevenly or the humidity level may cause your cake to fall. It takes some luck. Your boyfriend takes you to Paris for your birthday, just one night. He takes you to the Moulin Rouge for dinner and the show. Then he takes you to the Trocadero to view the Eiffel Tower at night. While sitting on the steps, he asks you to marry him. Accept.

I love forty!