Summer, 2006

Summer Sojourn, 2006

As I sit here reflecting upon my dream vacation of this past summer, in the planning for over a year, I must write some thoughts before they float forever out of my head. This definitely reads like a travelogue, replete with hotel names and culinary details. This is so that I do not forget the particulars of our journey, and if you, dear reader, are inspired to try any of the places we stayed, they are all to be recommended!

We departed Jakarta on a nice, hot, smoggy day in mid-June in the evening. After a quick stop in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, we headed for Amsterdam, tucked into our tiny coach class KLM seats. Sam and Sophia, our star travelers, settled down and slept for almost the entire trip which was fantastic, as it was quite boring (no individual screens with fun games and movies!). We arrived in Amsterdam at the crack of a new dawn and had to wait there for three hours until taking a puddle jumper over to London. We managed to explore most of the airport, run into other international teachers from Syria and drink lots of coffee. Did you know that you can deconstruct Rembrandt’s “Night Watch” while peeing in the toilets of Amsterdam’s airport?

After a forty minute flight to Heathrow, we piled ourselves and our gear onto the Budget rental bus and went to pick up our car, a great deal Jared had found on the internet. Lo and behold there was lots of red tape and small print which doubled the price of the dang car. In addition, even though I had called our credit card company in advance to let them know of upcoming charges in Europe they had shut down the account. So there we were, Jared frustrated, me a wee bit tired, Sam and Sophia totally hyper…they disappeared into the bathroom with two other kids for a few minutes and I soon heard the howling of…..was it one of my children? Yes, indeedy! Sure enough, darling Sophia had managed to get her tiny finger smashed in a closing door. It looked wretched. I thought we would have to head for the nearest emergency room. Based on the tenor of her screams, I knew it was bad. She is the bravest one in the family when it comes to pain. But our travel angel must have intervened as a few minutes later her sobs ceased and the finger, now a swelling purple blob, looked like it may not need medical attention after all.

We packed our gear into every last crevice of our nice shiny Peugeot and off we went around the M25, shooting off to county Suffolk to meet our friends. We were among the last of the England crowd to arrive. We pulled into the town of Worlington in the early afternoon and managed to find someone we knew before we pulled out of town (that’s how small it is!). We were taken to our lodgings, the home of a good friend where we were sharing space for the next few nights with another family. When they all returned from their day’s outing at Cambridge, huge hugs and kisses were exchanged and the games began. They did not stop for the next 43 days!

After a beautiful run along a lazy river, passing by local red-faced boys clutching fishing poles and cold beers, Jared and the boys headed to the local pub to watch the England vs. Trinidad and Tobago soccer game. We then met at a nearby Indian restaurant where I was having a nice meal until some evil chili seed made its way into my mouth and wreaked major havoc with my taste buds and entire esophagus. And the establishment did not even serve Lassies to help cool the burning! The nerve!

The next day was spent running, playing with the kids on the local playground where we had a wonderful picnic, and then getting ready for the big gig at Natasha’s Dad’s house. The place looked fantastic: a beautiful garden, a tent raised for the occasion with lovely flowers, tiny lights everywhere, and the most important ingredient (besides the scintillating guests), wonderful summer weather! We laughed, drank, ate and danced our way through a brilliant party in honor of the coming together of two dear friends, Natasha and Nigel.

A new dawn and we packed up our gear, loaded into the car and headed cross country to Leicestershire where we checked into a lovely pub, the Cheney Arms in the town of Gaddesby (a real “don’t blink or you’ll miss” it kind of blip on the map). As we gathered downstairs to drink a pint or two, Sophia made friends with a little boy out in the parking lot and she pushed him around on his little red car. I love the way English families bring all the babes along to watch the debauchery. A bunch of dads go into the pub to suck down a few pints and yell at some sporting show while the moms and kids sit outside and suck down their own nectar and watch the kids play in the parking lot. We definitely fit in with the local culture. Sam and the men were played Boules in the back yard of the establishment. Later, after a meal filled with meat and heavy side dishes, we rolled ourselves upstairs to bed. It was just about mid-summers eve and it did not get dark until almost 11pm!

Sunday morning: we arose, stuffed ourselves full of a farmer’s breakfast (including blood pudding!), and lined up in our convoy ready to forge forth to a centuries old church near Barkby, a village nearby, to witness the christening of George, the adorable baby boy of Natasha and Nigel. He was perfectly behaved and gurgled and cooed at all the right moments. After a blessing of the marriage of the happy parents, we all strode out, up the hill, around the local cricket field to an outdoor stable area where a gorgeous afternoon tea was presented to the guests. After about 8 glasses of champagne, countless tea sandwiches and luscious strawberries and cream, I gathered the kids from their impromptu soccer field and we all stumbled home. Sunday night and the pub kitchen was closed! Filled with champagne bubbles and cucumber and chutney sandwiches, I crashed and Jared and the kids had potato chips for dinner.

The next day dawned to perfection. We consumed another calorie-filled, oil laced farmer’s breakfast and headed out for a hike across the fields and over the famous turnstiles of back country England. Most fields were filled with wild flowers and cow poop along with cows and or sheep. At one point we had to cross a field of rather belligerent looking bovines. Unsure if I was viewing balls and testicles, I averted my eyes from the creatures and we tiptoed across the field. Later in our wandering, we came across a beautiful snake just after a pheasant crashed out of the brush and sent us all but sprawling in shock.

Alas, it was time for our stay on the British Isles to come to an end. An uneventful ride to Heathrow and a short flight to Amsterdam brought us to the continent and land of Euros. 35 of them got us a taxi ride to Erica’s place in the “Oude Zuide” hip district of Amsterdam. She and Tomas were there to greet us and the revelry continued. Sam, Sophia and Tom picked up like they had never been apart. We sat outside with Erica and popped our first bottle of champagne to accompany some scrumptious Dutch cheeses.

We spent the next few days shopping for clothes made for the western figure, visiting museums designed for kids, taking in a canal cruise, eating and drinking and running along the canals to even out the caloric intake. Alas, our delicious visit chez Erica had to come to a close and we packed everything into our new (continental sized) Peugeot and headed south, with handy Map Quest print outs in hand. Ten hours later, sun almost setting and about 100 Euros poorer, thanks to the outrageous price of gas and French highway tolls, we crept down ever shrinking roads until at last we reached our destination – La Ferme du Lac, in the middle of nowhere (actually, about an hour south of Limoges) – PERFECT! Wolfie, the big black lab was there to greet us, along with the gang from England. Communal rejoicing, followed by wine and beer and a nice home cooked meal by the British owners of this cozy retreat had us all sleeping well that night.

We arose at a civilized hour and lingered over breakfast before breaking camp, as it were, and lining up in our by now organized convoy. We were off!!!!! Off to the chateau Marvaux, near Bergerac in the Dordogne region of France, purported to be a mere hour or two away. Four and a half hours later, our exhausted and overloaded convoy limped into the driveway; after having fallen apart at the first roundabout from La ferme du Lac. We had stopped for a McDonalds break followed by the biggest grocery shop of the summer – enough to feed the mouths of about 16 of us for at least a few hours.

The chateau Marvaux was marvellieux! It featured four fully equipped apartments, a nice swimming pool, fully outfitted outdoor area with badminton net and grill to feed the multitudes, which it did. We proceeded to grill and feast for the next seven nights with numbers of our crowd swelling to a height of 23 once all had arrived.

One night we journeyed out to a nearby farm for a home cooked meal featuring a variety of succulent animal parts, prune aperitifs and luscious sorbets for dessert. Even though most French food sounds unpalatable on paper, the actual gastronomic experience was quite fulfilling! Although it had taken almost an hour to decipher conflicting directions to find our way to the farm, we were home in a matter of minutes in the pitch dark that descends on the area after sunset.

A few more days were spent at the chateau, taking gorgeous runs and walks in the day, and engaging in evening activities ranging from quiz night to a scavenger hunt to rip roaring games of Capture the Flag to cheering on the French (or not) in World Cup soccer games.

After a week of decadence, it was time to load the car and head east. Ten hours, another monstrous dent in the wallet, and several geographical changes later, we hit the triangle where Germany, France and Switzerland meet. We pulled into Basel as the light was fading and the Portuguese had just beaten France in another World Cup game. Horns were honking everywhere and we thought we were improperly following the street signs and stoplights … until we noticed the Portuguese flags hanging out of the honking cars!

We schlepped our belongings up to Jared’s sister Megan’s place, a nice apartment overlooking a beautiful park. Jared’s mom had just arrived from the U.S., and we all had a tasty dinner (prepared by Megan’s Significant Other, Salvadore). That night we spread out all over the apartment and settled down for a restful sleep, but I seemed to twitch awake each time the local bus cruised to a stop just outside the window. Indeed, the noises from outside are so outrageously loud that Megan and Sal actually pay less rent than everyone else in the building for the inconvenience.

Not to worry; the next day we were off to the Black Forest…more specifically Breitnau, just above Hinterzarten. Breitnau is so small, I had a hard time locating it through Google, as there are other, bigger Breitenau’s in the world! Our friends Mark and Klaus who live in the area had kindly found the best place for us to spend the bulk of our holiday. Three weeks at a German farm: cows, chickens a few pigs tucked away, clean mountain air and two small children to boot!

The farmer’s wife, Astrid, is one of the nicest people ever. She opened her home on our first evening to nine of us for a barbeque. Her husband, Oswald, spent the evening grilling and the rest of us chatted in a mix of German and English. The kids all sat together and made animal sounds at each other, as a roaring lion is pretty much understandable in any language!

From then on we got into a routine of going to bed late (it was still getting dark after ten!) and rising late, lounging at breakfast and then carrying out the day’s plan, be it a beautiful hike in the area (straight from the farm!), a walk into town, a train ride to Freiburg (site of my junior year abroad!) to eat bratwurst at the market square or climb the cathedral tower, a drive to Feldberg for a gondola ride or Todnau for a really exciting alpine “Rodelbahn” – a 3 KM sled ride down a mountain!

The eating and drinking continued at the frenzied level of our French days. I could not get enough of the German wurst and beer! We spent one day visiting the relatives of Sal, Megan’s Swiss/Italian boyfriend, who live on the border of Germany and Switzerland. German, Italian and English flew around the table set for about 18 of us. Good food, good chatter, good people; it was a very lively day as members of three generations from a variety of families gathered for a Sunday meal.

As our three weeks came to an end up on the farm, we packed our bags and prepared for yet another stellar adventure. After regrouping in Basel, Erna, Megan and the four Rodgers climbed aboard a Swiss train bound for Brusio, a tiny spot in the far southeast corner of Switzerland. We had to change trains several times as we climbed higher into the Alps. Our last train had two passengers cars called the “panorama” cars – they were open air, so you could smell and see everything around you!! We passed a few glaciers, spectacular alpine lakes and forests on our way into the hamlet of Brusio.

Megan’s host mom of many years ago, Catherine, was there to meet us. We crossed the street and were at the rectory of the church over which she presides. We had a tour of her vegetable garden and sat down to a lovely meal of fresh foods from the garden and nearby butcher. After another incredibly satisfying sleep, we arose to take in our surroundings. We hiked a bit along a mountainside and descended to the local lake which was alpine green and FREEZING! Megan scraped the bottom for clay and gave herself a mud bath, much to Sophia’s amusement. Sam and Jared swum around, undaunted by the cold. Erna and I drank coffee in the café just above the lake and took in the view from there.

In this part of the world, you can’t go wrong in your choice of activity: it is all so beautiful (I am quickly running out of adjectives to describe the pulchritude!). Another gorgeous evening meal, followed by a restful sleep and we awoke to our final day in Brusio.

We took the train over to the next town where we met Catherine and ate at the pizzeria on the town square. I had the perfect pizza: arugula piled high with shavings of parmesan and slices of prosciuto ham placed all around with a layer of mushrooms. I do not care for mushrooms as a rule but this had to be the best pizza I have ever consumed! Something about the fresh air (and perhaps the accompanying red wine!) made it the consummate meal. After stuffing ourselves to the brim with helpings of ice cream, we all waddled back to the train station, bid adieu to Catherine and climbed into the “panorama” wagon of the train for the spectacular ride back through the mountains.

Back to Basel by nightfall where it was hot and humid. We spent the next few days at the local park frolicking in the summer heat (something like 44 days of record heat and no rain; the Europeans were beside themselves!). Alas, our vacation began to wind down as we put Erna on the plane home, said goodbye to Megan and Sal and their dog Dyla and headed north ourselves.

We stopped by Mark and Klaus’ lovely home in Donaueschingen for a night with the kids. We took a stroll to the local Biergarten where the kids played on their own for over three hours (!!!) while the adults imbibed and chattered. It was pitch dark when we set out through the park back home. Mark, once an Eagle scout, always an Eagle scout, had two flashlights which were wielded by Mark and Sam. With dark woods on either side of us and the occasional specter of a bike in the distance we crept through the park, bravely. Home again, home again and a few drinks later it was time to crash.

The next day we set out for our final destination, Walldorf or was it Walddorf? I had located the wrong town on the map and luckily called my friend, Inge, before we set out for Walddorf, only 45 minutes away. Instead we were supposed to head for Walldorf, which ended up taking us four hours!!! Thanks to summer highways work, the traffic was atrocious. On our final approach to Walldorf, we passed over 12 kilometers of stopped traffic going the other way. An unbelievable accident involving multiple trucks had occurred at 9 o’clock in the morning and at 5 pm they were still clearing it up. I can only imaging the frustration of the people stuck in that traffic for the entire day!!!!

We pulled up to Inge’s suburban pad – a new home with three floors, multiple bedrooms and a great yard, a growing phenomenon as the earning power continues to expand in Germany and fields get converted into suburban neighborhoods. Children and playgrounds abound in this area, so Inge’s three children are set for years of fun! It was great to see Inge after almost ten years; our appendages totaled two hubbies and five children which changed the nature of the visit. A lively time was had by all: again great meals, fine wine (thanks to Manfred’s visit and gift of a few bottles of his family label!), fun games with the kids including the local playground tour!

Friday, July 28, a sad day… up early and time to head for Amsterdam for the evening flight home. Miraculously, our journey was traffic free and we reached Amsterdam in record time. Over four hours early for our flight, we headed to the biggest park in Amsterdam, bordering on Schipol Airport, where we watched planes zoom overhead on their way to the runway. We rented a canoe and paddled about for awhile, before it was time to drop off the car and head to the airport.

But one last small adventure awaited. I had mistakenly thrown away the piece of paper which had the directions to the car drop off location. Stymied, we stopped at a bar and called the guy. He said we were so close by, he would come get us and we could follow him back. 45 minutes later, no guy and we called again. By this time, he was angry as he had not been able to find us. We got directions from him and set out. After stopping at the worlds LONGEST red light for about 20 minutes as we watched one car slip through each 4 second green light, we FINALLY realized we really had no idea where to go. Time ticking, stress building, we asked a man at another car place if he new the address. He kindly offered to lead us there, which he did – thank goodness!

We pulled up and the man in the booth was livid. He screamed at Jared and we all shrank back in horror. This was the worst kind of girlie man you would ever hope to meet in your worst dreams. Hairy face, red fingernails, long hair, flowing clothes, big hairy hands, high heels and a screechy voice. Luckily Jared had Sam and Sophia to help temper his temper. He offered the kids candy and a little wooden clog key chain and we were off to the airport in time to make the flight.

All went fairly smoothly and before we knew it, we had landed in Jakarta and were speeding down the highway towards Kelapa Gading and Sri and Asih! Home again, home again, jiggity jig.

Thus ended the summer holiday of the Rodgers family, 2006. The stories will be retold, pictures revisited and memories ever present in our minds to relive and bring a smile to our faces. As I write this, we have just returned from a frolicking meal with the new teachers to our school – it promises to be another lively year. More tales to come as the next holiday season approaches and I find myself with a few hours to spare!