Europe Archives - Page 5 of 10

September 4: Amsterdam

As we approached the Nijmegen train station, we saw bicyclists looking for vacant spots in the multi-floor bike park. Imagine how much energy is saved in the Netherlands just with bike use.

It is strange for me to look for bike traffic; several times, Dennis had to yank me off the bicycle path. Unless riding for sport, most commute riders (and their children) do not wear helmets. Most bikes are older models equipped with baskets or panniers. Only a few have lights or reflectors.

We arrived at the Amsterdam Central Train Station around noon. The town’s cafe-lined streets are full of pedestrians (many tourists), trolly cars, and bicyclists. We passed several museums such as the Medieval Museum of Torture, Madame Tussauds Wax Museum, the Sexmuseum, Van Gogh, and others. We also walked by several Ben & Jerry’s; somehow I managed to resist the call of Double Fudge Brownie, thinking that there must be a Dutch delight in my future.

Maureen at the Tourists Office was very helpful in finding us a room and telling us about the various “must see” tours. We plan to visit Anne Frank’s house, the canals, the Red Light District (for Dennis’ sake), and take a walking tour, which we enjoyed doing in Galway and London.

We are staying at the Hotel Museumzicht in the Museum and Fashion District. To access the lobby of this ancient hotel, you need to climb what is probably the world’s most steep interior stairway–10 risers to the front door, and then another 52 to our room. We are staying on the “first” floor overlooking trees below. (See right below.)

After a delightful Indonesian dinner, we schlepped over to Anne Frank’s house. I cannot imagine living in the annex attic for two years, as she did. At thirteen, when she went into hiding, her friends recall that she was a leader, vivacious, bubbly. Once in hiding, she had to sit still and not make any noise. We are lucky her diary and writings were saved and that her father had the courage to publish them.

For the first time in about six weeks, I am warm; it is about 80 F and sunny. Perhaps this is why I love Amsterdam so much.

September 3: Nijmegen

Since we left Miami on April 20, we have visited 13 countries, about half of the Western European countries: Madeira, Spain, Portugal, England, Wales, Ireland, No. Ireland, Scotland, France, Luxemburg, Belgium, Netherlands (Holland), and Germany. We took ships, ferries, trains, buses, and bicycles, or we walked; today we rode a draisine, a pedal car on an old railway from Groesbeek, the Netherlands to Kranenburg, Germany, about 20 km (16 mi) round trip. We cycled by cattle, sheep, horses, and goats; past cornfields, vineyards, strawberry beds, and acres of Swiss chard. I recognized oaks, birch, chestnut, and mountain ash. At one point, Dennis stopped to pick ripe and juicy blackberries. Though pastoral, the ride was far from tranquil; Dennis an I had to yell to overcome the din of the car wheels on the rail. To listen and see us experience this unusual form of transportation, click here.

We spent about an hour visiting Kranenburg, a 13th-century town. We entered the Gothic cathedral, St. Peter and St Paul, which is very light and airy compared to others we have seen. It has a beautiful stained-glass window and two golden side altars. The one pictured below features the life of Mary.

This Catholic church has been a place of pilgrimage for over 700 years, because of the legend of the Holy Cross. In 1280, a boy took communion and found the wafer too difficult to swallow, so he spat it out into a tree hollow, and then confessed his transgression. Twenty-eight years later, someone found a wooden crucifix in the same tree; believed to be a miracle, people have made pilgrimages to see the cross.

The town takes its name from the local crane sanctuary and the symbol of the town is the crane.

After returning to Groesbeek we took the bus to Nijmegen. There we walked around the city, visiting several parks, the old center, and the traffic and railroad bridges that cross the Waal River. Preventing the Germans from destroying these bridges was an objective of Operation Market Garden.

We sat in a cafe sipping on a Leffe Dubbel, a dark beer. Lisa, our server spoke English with an American accent; she helped us select our dinner. As we people watched, we realized that there are more women in Nijmegen than men. The university in town teaches the social and academic programs which do not attract many men. As you can imagine, Dennis enjoyed looking at all the young Dutch women.

September 2: Groesbeek

We spent five hours today at the Nationaal Bevrijdingsmuseum 1944 – 1945, the National Liberation Museum. It is not specifically about the 82nd or 101st Airborne; it describes what lead up to the war, the occupation of the Netherlands, the liberation, and the rebuilding of the country. Though Dennis did not discover anything directly pertaining to his father, he developed a better understanding of Operation Market Garden, the code name for the liberation effort in which he participated. It also gave Dennis a better idea of the kinds of questions he needs to pursue.

The museum contains a chapel with books listing those that died during the occupation and liberation. It is very sobering. Not only are there plagues honoring American troops, but also some for Britain, Canada, Poland, the Netherlands, and others.

There was also a special Canadian War Brides exhibit that, in my opinion, was the best part of the museum. The artist, Beverly Tosh, a daughter of a war bride, painted 22 portraits of Dutch war brides and displays these with stories of each woman and personal objects, including a wedding dress made from parachute silk. More than 2000 Dutch women emigrated to Canada to marry their love; 7000 babies were born in the Netherlands purportedly with Canadian fathers. “In 20 years, if there is another war, the Canadians do not need to send troops, just uniforms” was a popular post-war Dutch saying.

Following the war, most abandoned gliders, armaments, helmets, and other war paraphernalia were re-purposed. Helmets were used as colanders, glider wood for buildings, glider wheels for carts and toys, glider struts for legs for amputees, shell casing for ornaments and candle holders, and lots more. This tobacco cutter (left), made of car and bicycle parts, is an example of such ingenuity; it is very different from today’s small cigarette rolling machines.

September 1: Groesbeek

It is hard to believe that we have been in Europe for four months, arriving in Barcelona Spain on May 1. Today we took a train to Nijmegen, NL. All the signs are in Dutch, but many people speak English. From the train station, we went to the Tourist Bureau, but it was closed. Esther (left) was a receptionist for the blind museum who offered to help us locate a hotel room in Groesbeek. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the hotel, the WiFi was not working, so we found the wonderful Weidezicht B & B. (right below)

When we arrived in Groesbeck, we went to a kabob house. We tried every language we knew to order food–the attendants only spoke Dutch. We ordered hoping to get something edible, and were pleased with a hamburger for Dennis and salad for me. Supper was easier–the waitress spoke enough English to help us select from the Dutch menu listings. As we ate, a group of Brits arrived: all were having a good time and the restaurant became very lively. Dennis tried to help them with their menu selection–talk of the blind leading the blind.

They told us about a railroad bicycle trip (fietslorrie) to Germany, which we may try.

August 31: La Gleize

This morning, Michel de Trez, author and historian (left with Dennis and me), and his friend Françoise picked us up at the B & B to drive us to the December 44 Museum in La Gleize to see Dennis’ father’s WWII paratrooper helmet and other artifacts. Michel had arranged for Dennis to be interviewed by local and national television and he appeared on the national news that evening. Holding the helmet was an emotional moment for Dennis, “I can feel my dad!” Dennis looked at a collection of Michel de Trez’s photos and was able to identify Pvt. Ernest R. Blanchard in several of them.

After the interview, we roamed the museum. When Dennis’ father had talked about fighting at Bastogne, he really meant near there; he actually fought in La Gleize, as records and photos depict. In the museum, there is a Tiger II German tank, which shot 88mm shells. Dennis’ father used to tell him that “the French had hedgerows and the Belgians had the 88”, both which drove him nuts. Looking at the German’s largest tank, you can imagine just how terrifying it must have been for those fighting against it.

Dennis is standing by the Tiger II tank, the only one still on its battlefield, now positioned in front of the museum; there are only nine other surviving tanks.

If you come to Europe, don’t miss visiting the December 44 Museum to really understand the Battle of the Bulge.

August 30: Bastogne

This morning we spent more than three hours viewing the J’avais 20 ans en Bastogne exhibit at the Musée en Piconrue. Senior citizens were interviewed by teens about their experience as children during WWII. Their taped recollections were the basis for the three floors of exhibit rooms. Off all the museums we visited in Bastogne, this was my favorite—not only about the military but the effects of the war on the citizens; it made the hellishness more real.

After lunch we visited the 101^st Airborne Museum. Dennis’ father was in the 101^st during the Battle of the Bulge. It was amazing to see the size of the 81mm mortar that he transported. We found nothing personal but did get a feel for the snow and cold during that winter battle.

We tried to find the bus stop to go the shopping center to buy clothes for Dennis’ interview tomorrow. We asked several people about the stop’s location. At least, someone told us that we were actually at the stop—it was just unidentified. Would you have known it was here? (photo right)

The cost of living is very high in Belgium. Clothing, food, restaurants, hotels are all very expensive. Bastogne is a tourist town, so I can understand the elevated prices. Even though we went to a “mall” in a neighboring town 10 km (6 mi) away, the prices were less but still much dearer than in the U.S. I don’t know how the average person can afford living here.

Tomorrow, Michel de Trez will pick us up at 9:15 to take us to La Gleize where Dennis will be filmed for the Belgium TV. It should be an exciting day for him.

August 28: Bastogne

It took us approximately two hours and twenty minutes to get from Luxembourg to Bastogne, Belgium, about 44.5 km (27.6 miles). The itinerary included taking a 20-minute train ride to Mersch where we took a 5-minute bus ride to Ettelbruck. The last section took us the longest; we salute the bus driver for her skill and bravery.

As is our custom, we use seat belts in buses, when available. Shortly after starting off from Ettelbruck we begin descending the Ardennes, a very steep and forested mountain range in Belgium. After a near collision in one of the hairpin turns, we heard the other passengers clicking in their seat belts–the scare frightening them into safety.

We alighted at the McAuliffe square, so called because General McAuliffe reputedly responded “Nuts!” from this location to the German’s request for surrender. We ate lunch at the Jack Friteria (right) located in the square; Dennis recalled eating here with his military buddies back in the 60s when they came by motorcycles to visit the war museums and monuments.

We went to the Gare de Sud, the south bus station, to make plans for traveling to La Gleize on Saturday. We had to wait for a bus to arrive to find out how to do this. Turns out Michel de Trez will be picking us up at the B & B and driving us to the museum where he has arranged for an interview with Dennis that will be aired on Belgium National TV. How cool is that? We are off to buy Dennis non-hiking clothes; it will be strange to see him dressed up again.

There are 44 museums, monuments and historical things to do in Bastogne. One of them is the Musée en Piconrue (left), which displays some WWII artifacts and sells books about the 101st Airborne in Bastogne. The museum that Dennis is most interested in seeing is the Bastogne Historical Center. He also wants to visit the Mardasson Monument, a short walk out of town.

Bastogne is a city under construction. There are many cranes and remodeling projects. Tourism is a major factor, but there are more eateries than places to stay. We were lucky to find a room, especially since there is a circus in town this weekend.

With all the WWII Battle of the Bulge monuments in town, I loved the simplicity and innocence of the babies climbing statue.

August 28: Luxembourg

We arrived in Carentan at 9 A.M. and went straight to the post office to mail the camping gear home. Too bad there wasn’t a UPS or FedEx in town; it would have been cheaper.

We took a local train to Paris. As we approached the interior, the architecture changed from stone buildings to fairytale-like structures. We went through long stretches of agriculture, mostly plowed fields. Around the small station of Mantes de Jolie, there was a mixture of old and new, and lots of graffito. The Paris St. Lazare station was similar, only with taller blocked-stone buildings contrasting with tall glass ones. In Paris, the sky was cloudy and the massive building hid what sunlight there was. Not very welcoming. Nor were the French officials.

Disembarking the train, I went to the information office to find out how to the to the Gare Est (the east station). It was as if I were asking the most stupid question—you could feel the disdain—but I walked away with a metro map. Getting around the metro was not easy…the map and the signage did not correspond. I went to a different info center. This time the attendant just pointed to a sign in French, not even bothering to reply to my question. I could not be sure what the sign said, so I asked which direction I should take the lines stated on the sign. Whichever I wanted was his reply. That was helpful.

In frustration, I asked a fellow passenger to help us. Though she was uncertain, she did take the time to try to help us out. Her attitude was much more accommodating than that of the paid officials whose job it was to inform and help. Luckily, Dennis is good at reading maps, and we found our way to Gare Est with time to spare.

They patrol the station with men carrying automatic weapons and other arms. You can see them behind me in the photo above. I was glad when our express train to Luxembourg left. Paris is not a welcoming town.

Luxembourg, on the other hand, was very friendly. People speak many languages and seem to pride themselves in greeting foreigners. After dinner, we walked over the Adolphe Bridge (left) which joins to hills; the valley is a park. Entering the old city we saw a church with three steeples.

The city is having a fund-raiser for the Asian Elephants and there are brightly painted fiberglass elephants for sale all over the city.

August 27: Carentan

We went to the Dead Man’s Corner Museum in Carentan, because Dennis found a photo of his dad’s helmet in a book which stated the helmet was in this museum. The museum had many artifacts about the 82^nd and 101 Airborne, but not his helmet. We purchased a book depicting Pvt. Ernest R. Blanchard in England where he trained for the invasion. The author of both books was historian Michel de Trez,

Dennis asked the proprietor about the whereabouts of the helmet. He told us that his partner was the historian Michel de Trez and that he had the helmet in Belgium; he then called his friend to introduce us and to see if he was willing to speak with Dennis. We will go to Belgium after Luxemburg for that very purpose. Imagine the odds of finding that helmet!

Carentan is a small village with a train station. There, we bought our tickets for Luxembourg and will arrive in Luxembourg City tomorrow evening. At first we thought of catching the train to Bastogne, but decide to stay and explore the city, since I have not been there.

When I was studying French so many years ago, I read about the flying buttresses, an architectural technique that made it possible for churches to have light and height. Notre Dame in Carentan, (picture above left) I believe, is such an example.

The town hall is massive with a frontal rose and flower garden and huge window boxes full of petunias. These flowers seem to be a favored flowered in the district; they decorate many buildings. I wonder if Dennis’ father’s love for this flower developed while he was in France.–it was his favorite. Another popular flower is the hollyhock. These seem to attract the largest bumblebees I have ever seen.

Carentan has a canal to the harbor; consequently if has a marina (below, left). It was very relaxing siting under an cafe umbrella, sipping a Perrier, and watching the boats.

We returned to Sainte-Mere-Eglise, about 15 km (10 miles) away, to prepare for a day of travel. We boxed up our camping gear—no use hauling that 7 kg (almost 16 lbs) around if we are not using it. Dennis’ back pack is much lighter, and mine is smaller; both now fit in the overhead racks on trains and buses. Life is getting easier and we wind down our trip.

August 25: Sainte-Mère-Église

Except for the church bells tolling most of the day, there isn’t much going on in Sainte-Mère-Église on Sundays. Of course, there are the walking tour, restaurants, and trinket and bead shops, but no places of interest within walking distance that we had not already seen, and no buses to get to the sites that are further away.

At the tourist shop, we were surprised to find books not sold at the bookstore. More amazingly, we found photos of Dennis’ father and leads to more information. Dennis was as thrilled as a kid at Christmas and bubbled with excitement.

We visited the church where there are two stain-glass windows honoring the parachutists of the 82nd Airborne. The picture on the right depicts Saint Michael and the insignia of various Allied military units that fought in or near the village.

It is remarkable how the people of Sainte-Mère-Église continue to commemorate those that liberated them that night of June 5, 1944 and the days following. It also honors the civilians who died at that time. Next year will be the 70th anniversary.

Below is the tree where Dennis’ father’s parachute was hung up. As bullets whizzed by, he cut the ropes to the chute–and part of his thumb in haste–fell about 30 feet, and then ran off to join other members of his team. Once gathered together, some came back to liberate the town and others went to capture a Bridge at La Fiere, a marsh three kilometers away.