Summer Vacation Part 2 - Edinburgh and London

 Aug 29 - Sept 9

Edinburgh (Aug 29 - Sept 1)

When I alighted from the train in Edinburgh, a day after its month long famous festival, I was greeted by a monochromatic grayness - grey sky, grey buildings, grey roads - and my spirits sank. Soon after I checked into my welcoming hotel on Princes Street, and showered and changed, the sky cleared up, and as I headed toward the commanding Scott Monument, my mood swung skyward. The sun brightened up the whole city, and I instantly saw beauty all around me. The combination of honey hued ancient architecture, cobbled lanes, public gardens, green parks, and a contoured volcanic landscape convinced me that my 4 days here were going to be intensely pleasurable. I crossed the Mound and entered the Old Town, pleased at the human scale of this compact city. The upbeat atmosphere from the Edinburgh Festival lingered. For instance, the temporary outdoor bar area on Princes Street buzzed with tourists in no hurry to leave. I strolled up the Old Town High Street, also called the Royal Mile because it connects Holyrood Palace (the Royal residence) to the Edinburgh Castle. 

Edinburgh Castle

From the castle, built on a volcanic outcrop, I took in the sweeping views down below. Obviously, trudging up to the city's many high points (volcanic hills) would be the best way to appreciate it. Leaving the castle I headed down the Royal Mile, past souvenir shops with their displays of tartan kilts, wool scarves and shortbread biscuits. 

The arresting St. Giles Cathedral, with its crowned steeple, dominated the central part of the Royal Mile. I continued down to Holyrood Palace, home of the royal family. Directly across, the striking contemporary Parliament building, stood in contrast. 

In the evening I encountered Edinburgh's sophisticated food scene at David Bann, an established vegetarian restaurant. My dinner of aubergine, chickpea, and cashew koftas checked all boxes for excellence. As I headed back to my hotel, I, along with a cluster of tourists, took in sunset views of Calton Hill and its monuments from North Bridge.

My second morning started at Burr Café on George Street with a strong cappuccino and lemon poppyseed muffin. The Scottish National Gallery hogged the rest of my morning. I liked Scottish artist, Alexander Nasmyth's Princes Street. Landseer's original "The Monarch of the Glen" (deer with antlers) was a delight, and so was John Singer Sargent's "Lady Agnew of Lochnaw". I'd seen this exact painting two years ago at the DeYoung in San Francisco during a special exhibition of European art on tour. Seeing it again in its home was cool.

At the vegan café, Holy Cow, my lovely niece, Lily, served me the most delicious vegan burger I've ever had. Every part of it was lovingly made in house and fresh healthy flavors could be tasted in every bite. I needed a very long walk after this substantial meal. After admiring the Georgian architecture and layout of the New Town, I headed to Calton Hill, for its Greek temple like monuments and panoramic views. 

My energy level still robust in the late afternoon, I breezed past the Parliament building to Holyrood Park for the trail to Arthur's Seat. Climbing up the steep, very green hill was terribly exhilarating and at the top, the views stretching across the city and out to the sea, were breathtaking. 

Surely, after all this vigorous activity I deserved another proper meal! I decided to try out the popular Guildford Arms Pub near my hotel. This traditional pub, over a hundred years old, had an amazing ceiling, full of pretty designs, and a rather lively atmosphere. It offered a great selection of ales and a Scottish menu adapted for the hipster. My vegetarian wellington, perfectly cooked and seasoned, encased in a light pastry, blasted out all notions of stodgy Scottish food.

I returned to Burr Café for breakfast the next morning since I'd be boarding a coach from just across the street. An older American lady sitting next to me reacted with utter surprise when I asked her if she was enjoying Edinburgh. "I live in London and nobody strikes up a conversation with me there." We chuckled about Londoners looking straight into the distance when walking on Hampstead Heath and keeping their eyes peeled on their smartphones on the tube. She told me she was an art historian and spent most of her time at art museums and galleries. I told her about my Scottish National Gallery visit and how much I enjoyed the landscapes of William MacTaggart. "I really liked The Storm. So interesting that he was influenced by John Constable." This Suffolk artist's Salisbury Cathedral and a few other works were displayed in the same room for a compare and contrast. Her nod of agreement, conveying a respect for my intellect, pumped up my ego. On the coach ferrying me to the Highlands my thought bubble went, "Wow! Your ability to engage in meaningful conversation with random strangers all over the world is most impressive!"
"To meet interesting people, you have to be interesting," I once remarked to my Sydney brother with shameless immodesty. It was in January right after President Obama ceased to be our president, and a solemnity had engulfed the whole world. I had just returned from an engaging dinner conversation with a young lawyer couple on the terrace of a Turkish restaurant in the Pyrmont neighborhood of Sydney. He was of Pakistani descent, she was white Australian. Within minutes of initial, hesitant smiles that people seated at adjacent tables exchange, we dove into the current state of racism in the west and the impact of a deepening nationalist movement. It felt therapeutic then to unleash bitter sentiments, but now, months later, on vacation in Edinburgh, I welcomed the cheerful topic of art.

My all day coach tour out of Edinburgh provided an opportunity to stroll along the "bonnie" banks of Loch Lomond, a lake we've all heard of since childhood. I'd never actually pictured it before, but its largeness surprised me.
Entering the Highlands, carpeted in late summer heather, I got a sense of the country's dramatic landscape. On a future trip I hope to spend days hiking through this countryside.



When we stopped at Stirling for a visit to the Castle, I strolled through the old town, admiring its historic buildings and ending down at the Robert Burns statue. I had to have a photograph of a favorite poet from my teens!

Back in Edinburgh in the evening I sampled another of its famous restaurants, Wedgwood. I didn't have a reservation, but managed to get seated at a tiny table near the door. My main course, baked celeriac with oyster mushrooms, blue cheese, pair, and walnuts was easily Michelin star quality. 

I yielded to temptation and ordered an irresistible dessert - raspberries in a whisky sauce layered between crispy sheets, served with a sorbet. OMG!! Surely the best dessert I've ever had??

My last day in Edinburgh began at the café of the National Gallery with a strong caffe latte and a still warm Mull of Kintyre Cheddar scone. A fantastic view of Princes Gardens added a magical quality to the experience. I worked off the calories on a long stroll down to the Botanic Gardens. I loved the mild temperatures, despite the persistent threat of drizzle. Taking in deep gulps of fragrant air, I strolled through the lush, landscaped vegetation with a satisfied feeling. I had enjoyed pretty much every moment of my time in this delightful city.

Return to London (Sept 1 - 9)

I spent my final week of summer vacation in London getting a cultural fix, interspersed with long walks through scenic parks, and pub visits.

At the National Gallery I sort of followed the advice of an artist I'd met two years ago on the East Coast. His strategy at major world museums was to hone in on one painting and study it for a long, long time. So after a quick look at the Van Gogh's and French Impressionists, I spent the rest of my time in the room containing paintings by English giants John Constable, J. M. W. Turner, and Thomas Gainsborough. Depth over breadth as we educators like to say!

At Tate Modern I started out with the early 20th century stuff (Miro, Dali, Picasso). Then, to two special exhibitions - Alberto Giacometti, famous for his elongated nude sculptures, and Soul of a Nation, a collection of post civil rights Black American art. I crossed the bridge to the new wing - the striking pyramid shaped Blavatnik Building. From the viewing deck on the 10th floor you get 360 degree views of the city. At one angle I was staring into designer living rooms of luxury apartments that appeared empty. 

My cultural highlight of the London week had to be the BBC Proms concert at the venerable Royal Albert Hall. Mahler's Symphony No. 4, surely the most beautiful symphony ever composed, was sheer magic. It was a different interpretation, a slower tempo, to Claudio Abbado's, whose Youtube video I've obsessively watched ever since Daryl and I first heard this piece performed about five years ago by the Danish Orchestra in Santa Barbara. A retired ballerina who had been standing behind us in the queue to enter the Arlington asked us if we were excited. "I came to Santa Barbara for this concert," she told us. And afterwards we understood, when we ourselves craved another performance, carefully checking the classical concert listings of nearby cities for years, but luck eluded us. So, imagine my excitement when I saw Mahler #4 on the BBC Proms program? Daryl had to be at a math intensive in Marseille, so Troy happily agreed to accompany me. Preceded by a relaxing stroll along the Serpentine in Hyde Park on a warm, late summer day, and great conversation over a tasty al fresco Italian dinner, a joyful mood had already been cast before the concert. For days afterwards, the melodic, energetic, exultant music stayed in my head, keeping me in a state of euphoria.

On my birthday, which I'd spent by myself for the first time in my life, I went to see the play "Oslo", which had received glowing praise in The Guardian. Sitting next to me was a play director from Brisbane, who had come to London with his partner for 10 days of cultural immersion. He told me the hype was due to the play winning a Tony Award this year for its production at the Lincoln Center in NYC. Despite the unexciting subject matter focussing on the behind the scenes lead up to the 1993 Oslo Peace Accords and the famous Clinton/Arafat/Rabin handshake at the White House, the play was thoroughly engaging, with an outstanding cast. Toby Stephens, in a lead role, my neighbor informed me was the son of Maggie Smith. Two California references made me laugh. One was a comment about Norway's hostile weather. "Too bad it wasn't the Californians behind these talks!" Another comment was during a disparaging rant about the people in Tel Aviv sipping their wine and enjoying the good life  pretending they were in California!

London's weather in the first week of September had a late summer softness which invited long ambles. From Belsize Park I clocked many walking miles through Hampstead Heath, Regent's Canal, and Primrose Hill Park. Every moment out in these beautiful parks provided a reminder of what a truly remarkable city this is.
 

I often rewarded myself with a pub visit after my long walks, sipping an ale in an atmospheric terrace. On my last Friday, the jolly crowd outside The Marylebone drew me to this old, historic place for a gin and tonic. A fitting way to end my time in London, I thought. 

Berlin Diary (Oct 5 - 8)

Storm Xavier, the worst storm to hit northern Germany in years, ripped through Berlin on Thursday afternoon, leaving fallen trees and broken branches everywhere. On that morning we awoke to a steady, soft rain, and I carried out my normal gym, shopping and writing routine. Mid afternoon I went to Alexanderplatz to meet up with Ana for our first language exchange session. Between 4:00 and 6:00 we were in a snug corner of the café on the top floor of Galleries Kaufman, engaged in introductions and conversation. She hopes to improve her English communication skills and in exchange she is teaching me some basic, beginning German. Little did we realize that outside the winds were blowing at 100 km/h, and causing all kinds of destruction. At around 6:00 when we headed to the train station we were shocked at the force of the wind. "Blustery," I said to her. I boarded the S Bahn and waited ... and waited. And amazingly, none of the passengers appeared annoyed. They sat patiently. Clearly they knew something that I didn't. I gave up after 10 minutes and hopped on the packed U Bahn. To my amazement, crowds boarded the train at every stop, there were long stops at each station, and the train moved at a sluggish speed. When I finally arrived home an hour later I heard about the storm.


The next day we found out about the fallen trees and accidents and Berlin's crippled mass transportation system. Many people had been stranded, reaching home hours later. I was lucky! On Friday and Saturday, there were still cancellations of a lot of train and bus lines, causing all of us a lot of inconvenience.
On Sunday morning, the sky had patches of blue for the first time in a few days and we went into the Grunewald forest. The air, so fresh and sweet, made us feel like we had left the city far behind, despite being just 2 metro stops from our Berlin flat. Evidence of Thursday's destructive storm could be seen everywhere.









If we hear about a Mahler Symphony No. 4 concert you can be sure we will attend! On Friday evening, a day after the big storm, we were entertained by a chamber orchestra consisting of mostly young musicians in the intimate atmosphere of a small, sumptuous hall inside Schloss Charlottenburg. The acoustics were awful, but we were impressed at how well they handled this great piece of music meant for a full orchestra.





It's become a Saturday morning ritual for us to shop at the farmer's market in Charlottenburg. A community ambience pervades this bustling market. We've become addicted to the spinach gozlemes that we can see being prepared from scratch at a Turkish stand. After scarfing down steaming pieces of yumminess on Saturday morning we
wandered around in search of dessert to take to Michendorf. A tricky task, since the options were vast. We settled for apple cake made with almond meal. The friendly lady explained in detail her baking process. Clearly, a lot of thought and care was put into all her cakes.

On Saturday evening in Michendorf Julia spoiled us with a robustly flavored tomato based lentil soup followed by a pumpkin vegetable tart and salad. A meal worthy of a classy dessert. Fabian, after expending much energy at table tennis and beating Daryl at backgammon, preferred a slice of store bought chocolate log to the special apple cake.


We submitted to a popular Sunday Berlin activity: brunch, typically a buffet that starts at 10:00 and ends at 3:00. At midday, after our amble through Grunewald Forest, we took the S bahn to Savignyplatz, which is actually an easy walk from our flat. At XII Apostel, an Italian restaurant, we gaped at the staggering buffet spread. Salads, cheeses, traditional Italian antipasti, pasta, wood fired pizzas, and about six luscious dessert options. Fruit juice, Prosecco, and coffee were included too. Wow! After two hours of stuffing ourselves, we staggered out, cursing this discovery, because of course when we finally recover, we will return for another Sunday brunch!





On Sunday evening (October 8, 2017) we experienced for the first time the opening night of a brand new opera, L'Invisible, premiering at Deutsche Oper Berlin. We joined formally attired serious opera enthusiasts for the privilege of witnessing the talents of the 81 year old "maverick" composer and librettist, Aribert Riemann, who was commissioned by the company. For us, it was like going to a contemporary art museum and being challenged to understand and appreciate an unfathomable painting. Based on 3 short plays by the Belgian poet/symbolist Maurice Maeterlinck, with "death" as the common theme, we were drawn inside a nightmare, a persistent despair residing in our beings. In the first act, "The Intruder", about death in childbirth, a disturbing mood arose from just the strings being played by the orchestra. Anguished tension came from just wind instruments in the 2nd act, "The Interior", about breaking the news of a daughter's suicide to a bourgeois family happily trimming their Christmas tree. In the final act, based on the play "Tintagile's Death", all instruments were in play, producing an enhanced anxiety. Creepy ghost shadows, counter tenors, and a sister's desperation clear in the soprano's singing, continued to provoke in us, the audience, a sense of hopeless despair. This challenging, demanding work definitely wrenched us out of our comfort zone.

We have now been in Berlin for a month, and everyday we find new reasons to appreciate and enjoy it.

Berlin Diary (Sept 26 - Oct 3)

October 5, 2017. It's a wet, gray day in Berlin today. Not cold and ugly, but definitely a change from a mild September. Fall has arrived. The cobbled sidewalks are covered in leaves, and the trees are in rapid transition from green to yellow. Berliners, undeterred, don coats and boots and continue with their normal, busy lives.
But, they did take a break to do some high powered partying this past four day holiday weekend. Reunification celebrations combined with Oktoberfest made Berlin quite the place to be. The weather on Friday and Saturday, the final days of September, was spookily mild, almost summery, and we, like everyone else, took full advantage of this.
Of course we had to dine al fresco on Friday evening, and settled for one of a strip of bar restaurants beside the River Spree near Friedrischestrasse Station. The setting was our priority, and with the large number of tables enticingly set up on the cobbled sidewalk with river boats gliding by and attractive buildings in view, we were prepared for mediocre "tourist" fare. So we were pleasantly surprised at the scrumptious vegetarian flammkuchens (German style pizzas), that we were served. These super thin crusted pies were topped with both cooked and raw vegetables, and a strong cheese, and paired perfectly with chilled, hoppy beer. Berlin's food scene is going to spoil us.
On Saturday morning we wandered around the farmer's market near us in Charlottenburg, taking in the local vibe, and stocking up on pfefferlinges and steinpilzes. At the Turkish food stand we snacked on a spinach gozleme and eggplant involtinis stuffed with a walnut paste. Late afternoon we joined thousands of Berliners for an open air concert at Bebelplabtz.

The Staatskapelle Berlin, under the baton of Daniel Barenboim, performed Beethoven's 9th Symphony as part of their "Opera for All" program and also to inaugurate the Staatsoper building which had been shut for renovations for ten years. In the shadow of the stunning Humboldt University, with the newly renovated majestic Staatsoper Unter den Linden glowing in the late afternoon sun, the Berliner Dom in view, and the air temperature balmy, we enjoyed a magical 90 minutes of beautiful music.
We then strolled over to Alexanderplatz for Oktoberfest and found ourselves immersed in a bustling mini Bavarian village. Vendors selling local crafts under blue and white awninged stalls, a replica of the Munich Maypole, long lines in front of beer stands, crowded "beer gardens", and the air thick with the aromas of traditional cuisine -  pretzels, wurst, sauerkraut, specialty breads, and quark dough balls. We wormed our way to a crowded table, and grabbed a spot to sample a brew and a warm pretzel. Both were superb. So, we now know what Oktoberfest is.

The weather turned cold and drizzly on Sunday. The Deutsche Oper Berlin's production of The Barber of Seville was a definite antidote, keeping us in chuckles and smiles throughout the performance. This comedy was taken to a farcical extreme, raunchy and daring, with some excellent acting along with remarkable singing voices. Originality and inventiveness are definite hallmarks of this opera company. In this production there was a contemporary stage audience, families on a beach, dressed in swimwear, watching the opera taking place on a smaller, portable stage, formed from opening up a lorry. There were many shockingly hilarious scenes, and an altogether immensely enjoyable performance. A side note here, we find it interesting that a lot of young people in Germany go to the opera.

October 3 is Reunification Day, and a national holiday in Germany. On Tuesday afternoon I headed out to the Brandenburg Gate to participate in the street party. On a band stand big name singers provided entertainment.

Food vendors, beer gardens, an assortment of craft stalls, and a spirited crowd made a wander through most entertaining. The chill in the air didn't seem to faze anyone. What a great day to be in Berlin!

And finally, just wanted to mention one more interesting activity we did last week. We joined an English conversation group at Cafe Bleibtreu, a 15 minute walk from us. The group, a mixture of Germans and English, gather weekly for casual conversation. We met some really nice people who shared with us what brought them to this great city. Some had been here through the '80's and '90's, witnessing and being part of the city's history.

Summer Vacation in England - Aug 10 - Sept 10, 2017

Our vacation began on a fine, summer August afternoon in Cambridge with Jason, Marie, Luc, and Kristal. On their large terrace overlooking a bountiful garden we had a good, long chat. Dinner, inspired by what needed picking from Marie's garden and allotment, was a hearty affair of courgette soup, steamed string beans, roasted beets and butternut squash. A medium bodied French red wine that Marie had just brought back from France proved to be a perfect match for the meal. This pleasant evening was the perfect segue to the big celebrations that followed.

Blo Norton

Almost the entire clan converged for three fun filled days at Blo Norton Hall, in the Suffolk countryside where Daryl and his siblings grew up. An assortment of milestones, including significant birthdays, gave us an excuse to experience a Downton Abbey style English manor, sans servants and opulence. The enormous estate, consisting of spacious bedrooms, modern bathrooms, a dream kitchen, lounge areas, and dining halls, was set on sprawling, landscaped grounds.

Blo Norton Hall

Glynis and Mike took on the monumental catering duties for our group of 18 spanning 3 generations.
The weather cooperated with their plans for a barbecue dinner on our first evening out in the garden. Sitting around the great big outdoor table we chatted, we laughed, we ate, we quaffed, our spirits high from being with loved ones on a gorgeous summer evening. A rich chocolate cake from Fitzbilly's in Cambridge finished off the splendid meal.
The next day, another sunny day, we were joined by Roger, Gil, and Dominic who drove out from London, and Hazel and Vim, who lived nearby. We spent most of the day in the garden around the table chatting, snacking, sipping Pimms, and just generally having fun.
In the evening Glynis and Mike served us a splendid Greek themed meal in the formal dining hall. To heighten the celebratory vibe we dressed up for the evening, and drank champagne. Dessert was summer berry pudding which I had made a day earlier. Served with a rich custard it was quite a hit.
On our last day at Blo Norton, a day bordering on scorching, Daryl and I strolled to the villages where he grew up. First to Thelnetham, past the windmill to Willow House, where he was born. The new owners were doing gardening chores and when we greeted them and introduced ourselves we were warmly invited for a cup of tea and a chat about the time when Daryl's parents lived in Willow House. We continued our walk to Hepworth and a peek at Home Farm, where Daryl spent his childhood, and to the Churchyard where Joyce was laid to rest.

In the evening at Blo Norton we had our final dinner with the family, a Spanish themed meal featuring paella and various salads. More champagne, more cake, and sadly, the next morning we had our last breakfast together in this glorious place.

Warwickshire

Off to Kenilworth to see David and Rona Epstein. A day in Stratford on Avon started with a wander around Bancroft Gardens to admire sculptures of characters from famous Shakespeare plays.

Lunch at Hall's Croft allowed us to experience some history in this Tudor home of the Bard's daughter and her husband, John Croft, a doctor who kept meticulous records to advance medicine. We continued on to Shakespeare's burial site at Holy Trinity Church. A walk across Shottery Park brought us to Anne Hathaway's cottage and gardens, and across the street we indulged in cream teas in the garden of a cafe. This full and fantastic day ended back in Kenilworth with Rona's delicious cottage pie and an exquisite lemon cheesecake made by Julia, a newly minted graduate of Edinburgh University. The night before Julia had made a superb courgette risotto - her first ever - so we'd already been primed for an unforgettable dessert.

Bristol

Bristol was next on our UK itinerary. A full day of traipsing around the city center revealed an attractive, lively, progressive city without the insanity of most big cities. We spent our time admiring old stone architecture, especially Bristol Castle, soaking up the cheerful atmosphere around the port, strolling along the Avon River, and then a brisk walk into the upmarket Clifton neighborhood, followed by a hike up Cabot Hill to the tower, where we climbed up a steep, spiral staircase for panoramic views of the city. We ended the day at the elegant Bristol 1847, a gourmet vegetarian restaurant where we had fancy sounding food like tequila infused carrots and battered haloumi. In the morning we left the city via the stunning Clifton Suspension Bridge which spans the River Avon and the Avon Gorge.

As we penetrated Somerset county the scenery turned bucolic with vast expanses of vibrant green fields and flocks of sheep.

A lunch stop at Glastonbury, a magnet for left leaning artistic types, guaranteed a satisfying vegetarian meal at a random café. We worked off our meal of soup and mezzes by hiking up to Glastonbury Tor. After a strenuous climb up a steep, emerald slope we reached St. Michael's Tower, a roofless stone structure, and the most iconic of the town's features. We took shelter here as a storm broke out. Lightning flashes and the dull roar of thunder created a romantic, though eerie scene. Within minutes the storm dissipated and it was safe for us to make our descent.

Dartmoor

We continued our drive down to Devon and into Dartmoor. Based in the village of Widecombe inside the national park, we had phenomenal views of expansive fields studded with tors. These strange piles of huge granite boulders are remnants of ancient volcanoes.

Wild ponies roamed around these fields that were a patchwork of verdant green grass, purple heather and yellow gorse. From our living room, we gazed at Hay Tor, the biggest and most famous of the tors, while sipping single malt and listening to a live BBC Proms' broadcast of Mahler's Symphony No. 2.
Our meals were as local as you could get. Milk and eggs from cows and chickens we could see through the window, and produce from garden stands down our lane.
FOMO (fear of missing out) nudged us to The Old Inn for a pub meal in the village center across from the 14th century Gothic cathedral. It would certainly have been a shame not to have sampled the fondue and rustic bread followed by a scrumptious mushroom pie and flavorful ale in the very atmospheric low beamed dining area.

We didn't spend all of our time roaming around the moors, staring at wild ponies, scrambling up tors, gazing at wide open undulating vistas, and gulping in earthy, heather infused air. A need for coffee beans from Waitrose got us to the charming seaside town of Teignmouth, where we went on a  beachwalk, and sampled local pasties for lunch with a sea view. And a rainy afternoon gave us an excuse to drive on those narrow lanes (holding in our breaths and tucking in our tummies) through the moors into Tavistock, a cute town, with pretty buildings and a scenic river walk. On our drive back to Widecombe we stopped at Two Bridges for cream teas at a charming hotel that seemed stuck in a previous century. This being Devon, of course the clotted cream and scones were beyond reproach. And the tea, served piping hot out of fine china, was just perfect. Through the window of the Old World styled dining area we stared at the satisfying scenery of tors rising above rolling fields.

Exmoor

Leaving Dartmoor after three exquisite days, we headed north to Exmoor, another area of scenic beauty, where we'd be staying in an old stone cottage in the woods. En route we made a lunch stop at Bude in Cornwall for a traditional pastie and a glance at the Atlantic. It was hot and sunny day as we strolled through this bustling town filled with vacationers here for the surf and sea. Cornish pasties were ubiquitous, and we were pleased with our choice. A Cornish clotted cream ice cream for afters was impossible to pass up.

Arriving at our cute cottage in Dulverton we smiled in anticipation of a quintessential English experience for the next three days. Built over a hundred years ago, the cottage had spacious common areas and large bedrooms upstairs with big windows providing beautiful views of woods and meadows.

To get into the town center we stepped into the woods, and found a trail along a gurgling river. It felt so remote we couldn't believe it when half an hour later we crossed a bridge and entered a built up center with traffic filled roads and busy shops and noisy pubs.

"This is actually the way into town and not just a fantastic trail for a hike?" asked Saff and Gwen, when they arrived the next day from Yatton to spend a day with us. We had just eaten a big lunch and a walk seemed like an obvious next activity. Saff and Gwen especially loved the view of the river and banks from the bridge leading into the town center. We had much catching up to do with these two family members so we mostly spent our time sitting around the garden table back at our cottage. It was a perfect summer day, with a clear, blue sky and out in the peaceful garden we traded stories over tea, then champagne - always a celebration to be with these two - and then a simple home cooked dinner of rice, lentils, and broccoli. Just as darkness fell, we had to wave goodbye to this much adored couple.

On our last day in the Southwest countryside we drove across the moors, a flatter and less remarkable landscape than Dartmoor, into Lynmouth. In this stunning North Devon coastal town we hiked along the Valley of Rocks trail on the South West Coast Path.

Cut into steep cliffs that hug the coastline the trail provided jaw dropping views. Rugged, rocky terrain alternating with grassy slopes, and constant expansive views of turquoise waters fringed by a curvaceous coastline had us spellbound. A section called Poet's Walk displayed verses by Wordsworth, Coleridge and Shelley, poets who loved and celebrated this area's beauty. We would have hated having to leave this place, but for the fact that our next destination was London.

London

It was time for an intense cultural fix in our favorite world city.  At the Harold Pinter Theatre in the West End we saw a satisfying production of Hamlet in a modern setting. Andrew Scott (Moriarty in the current Sherlock Holmes series) was sufficiently compelling in his role as an anguished, tortured son of a newly deceased king.

An indulgent meal to celebrate our recent anniversary, my upcoming birthday, and Daryl's promotion to Distinguished Professor, at the Michelin starred Pollen Street Social gave us a chance to feel pretentious. Each course met the criteria of satisfying all senses. We ordered a wine matching too, so we sampled maybe six different wines, each described in detail by a sommelier displaying ballet like body gestures. We felt most sophisticated. In fact, when the waiter accidentally brought us espressos midway through our meal, we didn't show our shock. We just gracefully sipped the caffeine as if it was perfectly natural to take a break before continuing with more fine wine and elaborate courses. Later, everyone giggled at the faux pas!

In our three intense days together in the city we managed a few hours each at the British Museum, the Science Museum, and the Museum of Natural History. We also did some of our favorite walks alone Regents Canal, across Primrose Hill Park, and on Hampstead Heath.

As August came to its end, Daryl boarded the Eurostar for Marseille, and I hopped on a train to Edinburgh.

Berlin in Autumn (September 10 - 24)

We've been in Berlin just over two weeks now and political campaigning leading up to Sunday's elections, seemed low key compared to the US. As predicted, Angela Merkel will, thankfully, serve as chancellor for a fourth term. But her party's loss of seats to a new extreme right wing party, the AfD (Alternative for Germany), is depressing and disturbing. For the first time since the second world war, the far right will have representation in the Bundestag.

It took us no time to settle into our Charlottenburg/Wilmersdorf neighborhood, away from the bustling Mitte, but a short walk to all the conveniences expected of a major city. Our spacious apartment feels classy with beautiful hardwood floors and ceilings painted with attractive details evoking the Old World. We are a short walk from the Ku'udamm, a famous tree lined avenue dubbed Berlin's Champs Elysée because of its high end fashion stores, restaurants, and hotels.

Most thrilling for us is that the Deutsche Opera House is just a 15 minute walk from us, providing a useful excuse to indulge our passions. Our first opera, two weeks ago, was a truly satisfying Lucia di Lammermoor. A solidly talented cast brought to life this heartbreaking Walter Scott story of a young woman in love with a family enemy and forced by her callous brother into a marriage for political gain. Pretty Yende, a black South African soprano in the lead, sang with breathtaking passion, handling impossibly high notes with stunning ease. Her "mad scene" was epic. Minimalist staging, men in period costumes, sporting sashes and women in 18th century frocks and ringlets adequately depicted the setting.

A week later, this past Saturday, we saw the opera company's very nontraditional Aida. The first thing you notice is that the entire orchestra is up on the stage behind a translucent curtain, conveying that they are the main deal in this opera. Minimal stage dramatization felt weird to me. The only main characters you see are Radames, Amneris, and Aida, but not in the expected Egyptian costumes. The chorus is embedded in the audience on the upper levels, creating a magnificent live surround sound effect. The Pharaoh never appears, but his imposing voice comes from up above. Another nontraditional aspect of the Deutsche Opera's staging is having Radames on stage the entire time even when he is supposed to be away in Ethiopia leading his troops in battle. I found it a little unsettling, but the music and the voices of the lead characters were so powerful, it was impossible not to be enthralled.

In addition to opera, we are loving Berlin's sophisticated vegan and vegetarian culinary scene. On Thursday evenings we head to edgy Kreuzberg for the night market at MarktHalle Neue. Alighting at Görlitzer Station, we dodge the many young drug dealers (heartbreaking to note that these Gambian refugees lead such desperate lives), skip past a strip of vibrant cafes and bars, then we enter food heaven in a crowded indoor market hall. Definitely the place to be on a Thursday evening in Berlin. Our senses now drowned in a cornucopia of high quality international cuisine, everything hand made from fresh pasta, to German spaetzel, Chinese dim sum, Indonesian curries, English pies, sushi, and many more. At an Indian food stand parathas are rolled and cooked while you're waiting to place your order. Thus far we've sampled paneer rolls, Yemeni wraps, Indonesian rendang, and steamed buns. Local microbreweries ensure that good, hoppy ale accompanies the excellent food. leaving us counting the minutes to the next Thursday evening.

On Friday evening, in contrast, we dined more formally, at Cookies Cream, which we discovered on a previous visit a few years ago. This time, this legendary restaurant lacked the magic arising from the combination of its unusual entry, intimate interior, and outstanding vegetarian meals. While the food is still inventive and of high quality, we found it absurdly overpriced.

On Saturday afternoon we met up with Santa Barbara friends for a walk in the beautiful grounds around Charlottenburg Schloss. The combination of woods, formal landscaping, and a path alongside the Spree River made it a joyful experience despite grey skies and some drizzle.

The best part about being in Berlin is getting to spend time with cherished family. Sunday in Michendorf with Julia and Fabian was very special. We strolled though the quiet streets of this little town for lunch at the local Indian restaurant. Later, Julia and I took a long walk through the woods to the amazingly huge lake. There's so much natural beauty, especially forests, surrounding Michendorf. Mushroom picking appeared to be a popular activity on our walk. It's autumn now, the days are cooler, with a little rain everyday. It's definitely mushroom season.
At our Saturday morning farmer's market in the Charlottenburg neighborhood of Berlin we've been learning how to select "steinpilze" - the German word for fungi porcini.

New Zealand South Island Week 3

From Wanaka to the West Coast, then up to Nelson

12/2416 - 01/04/17

On Christmas Eve we resumed our car journey. Our itinerary would take us north to Wanaka, then over the Haast Pass to the West Coast and on to the Nelson area, before heading south again on Alpine roads, ending in Christchurch. At the New World grocery market in Queenstown we stocked up on food supplies before heading out to Wanaka. Turning on to the winding Crown Range Road toward Cardrona, we began a steep ascent.


At the summit we followed tourist protocol - pulled over at the lookout to gawp at and photograph the undulating landscape, snowy peaks, and fields covered with tall tussock grass.

Wanaka

Similar to Queenstown with a lakeside setting, fringed by the Alps, Wanaka had a more peaceful ambience. People came here to enjoy nature rather than adrenalin pumping activities. We stayed in a modest, self-contained cabin at the Top 10 Holiday Park, 3 km out of town. Our afternoon was taken up by a saunter along a lakeside trail, with delightful views of snowcapped peaks. Later, we prepared a biggish "festive" dinner. Pastry puffs stuffed with spinach and feta for starters. Roasted veggies, sweet corn, soy sausages, and rustic bread for mains. A full bodied Central Otago Pinot Noir from a wine maker at the Dunedin market accompanied our meal. Dessert was the Christmas pudding from the Otago market, warmed and served with a rich custard. Scrumptious! 
A few more hours of daylight presented the opportunity to walk off this feast. We strolled down the road into Wanaka Station Park where we were amazed to see towering trees, easily over a hundred years old, and a fragrant rose garden which led to the lake's shore. 



Professional photographers, crouched on the shore, attempted to capture the changing mountain shades with a foreground of an unlikely tree awkwardly posing in the placid lake. Continuing along the gritty lake shore we arrived at the little downtown, enlivened by a crowd in festive mode. From the upstairs terrace of a bar we nursed a gin and tonic while gazing at the shimmering lake at sunset. At 10:00, right when the sun sank behind the Alps, the balcony doors closed, and we had to go inside. Sitting by a window with views of a pink horizon, we chatted with a young Canadian man who worked in Christchurch as a city planner. He told us about the problems to rebuild after the earthquake, mainly because the city was built on sand. Well, that was a bit depressing, but an invigorating 3 km walk back to our cabin gave us a boost of endorphins.

Haast Pass to Glacier Country

We awoke to the sound of rain on Christmas day. On this big driving day we started on Highway 6 heading west along Lake Hawea before entering Mount Aspiring National Park. Again we were immersed in sensational scenery, dominated by imposing snow capped mountains. We took advantage of the many opportunities for vista stops and short trails. The sheer cliffs of the Makarora River valley were impressive. A highlight was the Blue Pools trail, an easy 3 km walk through a forest, across a swing bridge and down to pools of astonishingly blue water. Continuing the drive west toward Haast Pass, we stopped at pullouts for views alongside Haast River. At Haast village we caught our first glimpses of the Tasman Sea over steaming coffee beside the fireplace of a rustic cafe. Back on the road we now headed south along the coast. Under a grey sky the choppy sea and desolate beaches enhanced the wildness of this area. When we spotted dolphins splashing in the water we made a brief stop at a scenic pullout, then proceeded to a quieter spot to eat our lunch with sea views. 

Thick cloud cover greeted us in Glacier Country. We stopped at Fox Glacier, anyway, and went on the short, easy trail. No luck. The glacier was utterly hidden. It was late in the day when we arrived at Franz Josef, a  small town buzzing with tourists. We stayed in a cabin at the Top 10 Holiday Park a little out of town. Using a shared kitchen we prepared a simple meal which we ate at an outside table. Annoying sandflies hastened the meal, and so off we went, on an evening saunter along the flat and wide Terrace Track. After a long day in the car, it felt great to stretch our legs and breathe in mountain air.

In the morning we hiked up the Franz Josef Glacier trail for a close up view of this natural wonder. Quite joyful it was, under a mostly cloudy sky, with waterfalls spilling down green cliffs and mountain walls flanking a wide, rock strewn path. Luckily, the bit of sky above the glacier was cloudless, so we saw it clearly, in all its fascinating beauty.  

Anti-climactic feelings after our perfect morning were firmly prevented by a luxurious afternoon at Glacier Hot Pools. While soaking in these thermal pools in the midst of rainforest, we chatted with vacationing Kiwis and learned more about the area. The Hokitika Gorge was a "must do" and Greymouth, where we'd be sleeping the next night, was "grey".

In the evening we met an assortment of international families in our shared kitchen, and engaged in a longish chat with a Malaysian family of four from Australia. I love this aspect of traveling when you meet people from far and wide and realize how much in common we share.

The West Coast

The rain gushed down as we headed north on the the West Coast. We'd be sleeping in Greymouth, a convenient point to break our journey, but the main activities planned for the day were stops at various famous sites along this road. At scenic Okarito Lagoon a steady downpour forced us to remain in the car. In dismay we had to keep passing up opportunities for scenic tramps. We ate our picnic lunch in the car, luckily with a lake view inside a national park. In Hokitika we darted into touristy gemstone shops to check out the much hyped greenstone (jade). The rain continued to gush down, forcing us to skip Hokitika Gorge. Darn! We arrived in dull Greymouth way too early in the day. Our motel apartment, though, was spacious, tastefully designed, with a fantastic kitchen. A most welcome space to rest and unwind. We shopped for groceries at the Four Square Market across the road and made a decent pasta meal. For dessert we had broiled apricots with custard. After dinner we were thrilled to see a clear sky, and an opportunity to spend the remaining 2 hours of daylight productively. An amble along the flood wall of the Grey River confirmed our impressions of this town - sleepy, unattractive. The river mouth, though, was fascinating in its wildness. We caught glimpses of Hector’s dolphins, and enjoyed watching the savage Tasman Sea swallow up the sun.


We hit the road bright and early the next morning, starting with a beach walk. Rocky, pristine, with churning waters and sweet air, the walk under a clear sky was most invigorating. Continuing on SH6 along the Tasman Sea we arrived at Punakaiki at midday. We followed the hordes of tourists (jarring after the South's sparseness) along a paved path to see Dolomite Point limestone rock stacks resembling stacks of pancakes. As luck would have it, it was high tide, allowing us to witness the famous geyser like blowholes too.





The SH6 turned inland resulting in a drastic change of scenery. We were now skirting the Buller River with stunning views of the gorge. While sipping satisfying coffee at Berlins Cafe, we enjoyed sweeping views of Buller River. The hills around here were draped in a purple blanket of Manuka trees (aka the NZ tea tree). Heading north, we past numerous farmstands selling Manuka honey. More Alpine scenery followed before the landscape flattened out near Motueka Valley. A clear sky, and at last, warm temperatures. Summer! We had arrived in the agricultural heart of the country, advertised by flocks of sheep, fruit orchards, and kiwi plantations. Along a local, scenic road into Motueka we stopped at a couple of farm stands to load up on ollalaberries, blueberries and raspberries.

Abel Tasman, Nelson

In Motueka, our base for a taste of the Abel Tasman Coast Track, we had our most luxurious motel apartment which overlooked a kiwi plantation. While the drab downtown surprised us, considering its proximity to Abel Tasman, one of NZ’s great walks, the surrounding countryside and nearby beaches were beautiful.

A 5 hour hike on the Abel Tasman Track took us through coastal forest, and down to coves of golden beaches and turquoise sea. Compared to the dramatic Milford Track, the trail was gentle, and the magnificent scenery felt familiar, evocative of tropical paradises around the planet.


Late afternoon we hopped down a steep trail to Anchorage Bay. Here we climbed onto a high speed water taxi for a fun and memorable bumpy 15 minute ride back to the park entrance near Marahau. Also memorable was that we stayed on the boat as it got towed out of the water and taken to the terminal.

We ended this lovely day at the popular Sprig and Fern Pub where a chilled craft beer and delicious veggie burger reminded us of New Zealand's zeal to keep up with culinary trends.

A new day and a new city. The short drive from Motueka to Nelson is full of wonderful distractions. The taste trail, designed for cyclists, has a concentration of gourmet culinary stops. By car, we managed a sample of this on our way back from Ruby Bay Beach when we came upon a crowded bakery with shelves of freshly baked, rustic pastries, breads, pies and other goodies. We made some lunch purchases before proceeding along Highway 60, a scenic coastal road flanked by wineries and vineyards. 

Nelson felt like the "allegro" part of an otherwise serene symphony. I fantasized living here for so many reasons: 1. Sunny and warm 2. Interesting architecture - historic and new 2.  Queen's Gardens - with its gorgeous flower beds, ponds and graceful trees. 3. The craft beer scene, which we experienced at a popular pub called Free House. We met up with a friend of friend here, in the spacious garden, with great summer evening atmosphere. On his suggestion we drove up a steep road and found reason #4. Splendid views of Nelson Bay. 

5. It's a foodie city which you immediately notice from the trendy restaurants downtown, all with outdoor dining, creating a vibrant atmosphere. The excellent wood fired pizza and exquisite gnocchi we devoured at a small family owned Italian restaurant near our hotel was proof.

6. A wide, sandy, clean, and peaceful beach, which provided perfect after dinner entertainment. 

7. The Saturday farmer's market, easily bigger and more fun than our Santa Barbara Saturday market. Bountiful summer produce, diverse cuisine, coffee stands, and artisanal crafts reminded me of the markets in Provence, France.

Marlborough

Our drive to Picton from Nelson began on Highway 6, which allowed for the perfect lunch stop under historic Pelorus Bridge. We sat on boulders beside the river, surrounded by thick green forest, as we scarfed down dense, crusty bread, creamy blue cheese, juicy tomatoes and apricots acquired from Nelson's Saturday farmer's market. Continuing on our drive we left Highway 6 at Havelock and entered stunning Marlborough Sound on a narrow, winding road. We were transfixed by the color of the water and the curving, finger like projections of forested coast.

The harbor town of Picton throbbed with New Year's Eve excitement when we arrived. People milled around, and an arena by the waterfront was set up for live music. So after our dinner which featured sweet corn and other vegetables from Nelson's morning market, we headed down to the harbor to be a part of the celebrations. We had fun listening to familiar songs from past decades by the talented band singers. Around us a well behaved crowd tapped their feet as they munched snacks purchased from food stands that were set up. At midnight, dazzling fireworks lit up the sky to herald in 2017. We summoned our optimism and smiled.

We spent the first day of 2017 in the heart of the Marborough Wine region. Driving through Tuscan like landscape as we left Blenheim we made a couple of winery stops. We sampled the pinots and sauvignon blanc for which this region is famous. At Highfield Terravin Winery, a Tuscan style building we climbed up the tower for views after a sumptuous New Year's Day lunch. Delicate ravioli with a local Pinot, and a view of vineyards and distant mountains made it quite indulgent. 

Saint Arnaud (Nelson Lakes)

A short drive south on Highway 6 took us out of pastoral countryside and back into the Southern Alps. We stayed in a newly built log cabin in the alpine village of St. Arnaud in the Nelson Lakes region. 





We were a short walk from pretty Lake Rotoroa, at the foot of the Alps. Despite drizzly weather, we spent much of our 2 days here on hiking trails which took us through dense beech forest evoking Lord of the Rings scenes with moss covered branches and trickling water and mist clinging to tree tops. Pristine air,  lake views, and curvaceous mountains - it was all so energizing. This was a popular destination with lots of people around enjoying lake activities like boating, fishing, and swimming. 
The Alpine Lodge Restaurant served us a gourmet dinner despite painfully slow service, and a misunderstanding resulting in a main course not making it to the table. Perhaps they weren't used to serving a heavy customer load. However, a tasty substitute dish and splendid mountain and forest views from their atmospheric dining room made up for it. It must be noted that a cheesecake dessert arrived in an artistic geometric arrangement of accompaniments, adorned with a slice of dried apple and a berry sauce. Such refinement contrasted well with our active day on muddy trails deep in a forest.

On our last day of this road trip, another rainy day, our route back to Christchurch took us up and over gentle mountain passes. At Hamner Springs, when we stopped to check out lunch options (dismal), we peeked at the stunning gorge. Further on, in some little town, we found tasty pies and decent coffee at a bakery. 

We arrived back at our very first motel in Christchurch in the late afternoon. An hour or so of souvenir shopping at the Re:Start Container mall, created from converted ship containers, was followed by our final dinner in New Zealand. We returned to the Indian restaurant we had discovered on our first evening. Once again excellent service and exquisitely prepared cuisine impressed us just as much as the first time. This time our meal was accompanied by a fine red wine that we purchased in the Marlborough region. There was no better way to conclude our three intensely enjoyable weeks in this friendly, progressive, beautiful land.