Malta

Malta is a fascinating place.  The guidebooks undersold it to be sure.  So I did not give myself enough time to spend here.  The islands have been ruled by just about every Mediterranean power (Phoenicians, Sicilians, Normans, Arabs, Spanish, French, British) and pirated by everyone else.  The resulting mélange of language, traffic laws, and foods is complicated to say the least.  They drive on the left (a la Brit), with Middle Eastern-style suicide circles, and shall we say an Italian attitude toward everyone else’s bumpers.  Truly frightening.  Land Rover Defenders are very popular here; with the snorkel package.  There are no rivers or standing waterbodies here.  It’s so arid there are only a handful of swimming pools.  Where on earth do they think they’ll need those snorkels??  The architecture is pretty standardized tho, due to rebuilding after extensive WWII bombing, with the majority of structures being made from local limestone.  Everything is a pretty vanilla shade.  Given that, and with cremation illegal, I think being a stonemason is a sinecure here.

Highlights so far have been the walled city of Mdina, the catacombs of Rabat, the beach at Golden Bay, and the geology of Dwejra Bay.  I haven’t even made it to Valletta yet!

Mdina - a mixture of Dubrovnik and San Gimignano.  

More Mdina.  Local limestone.

Above Calypso's Grotto.  The wind howls here.

Dwejra Bay on Gozo Island.

Utrecht

Spent a grand time with Kate in Utrecht.  She’s lived here for a year and has a lovely spot on the canal in town.  We met up with yet another expat Alaskan, Sara, and listened to Bach and ate rijsttafel.  Amsterdam is noted for its Indonesian food.  Yum.

I continued touristing by hitting Haarlem.  The Church of St. Bavo (yeah, I had to look him up to) has an amazing organ.  I wish I had been here in the summer so I could have heard it.  Instead I heard Crocodile Dundee’s voice saying, “that’s not a knife…”  Seriously, it’s a HUGE organ.  Went to the Frans Hals Museum too.  I like those Golden Age paintings.

I played in our backyard by climbing the Dom Tower in Utrecht and taking pictures of Kate’s roof.  At 417 steps, it wasn’t the hardest climb I’ve done.  Very pretty though.  And they have an interesting collection of bells.  In a nod to the modern they have a carillon player one hour on Saturdays who is allowed to play any tune she wishes.  She’d been known to work in the Rolling Stones and Lady Gaga.  Love it.

And now the great zigzag begins (I know, I know…I’ve been bounding around to so many places, but now I have to plan a bit more carefully).  My rail pass runs out today.  So I am back where I started on my very first trip to Europe – a train in Switzerland.  It’s taking me to the Geneva airport, so I can fly off to Malta.  Time for a little sun and, well, more archaeology.  I’ll report back.

the Netherlands

Scootched on over to the Netherlands, visiting Kate P. in Utrecht.  Since Utrecht is only a comfortable 30 minutes by train from Amsterdam I’m doing some touring there too.  I realized I haven’t been here since I was 13.  But I remember it so well.  Mum and I went to the Anne Frank House and the Rembrandt Museum.

This time around I have visited the Van Gogh exhibit at the Hermitage Museum.  The Van Gogh Museum itself is under renovation, so they trotted the pieces over to the Hermitage space.  Since that space is usually for rotating loans from the Hermitage in Russia.  Interesting that the Dutch government bargained to receive rotating loans from that collection.  I wonder how much they pay for it.  Turns out that I do not care much for Van Gogh’s portraits of peasants, tho he liked to think of himself as a peasant painter.  They are a bit too caricature-y, with his aggressively warts and all approach.  I like his work from the south of France the best.

Then wandered down canal and I popped into the Rijksmuseum, which was also under renovation.  As a result, they only had about a dozen rooms open.  Sort of a greatest hits and at a discounted ticket price.  Worked for me!  Then into the Diamond Museum to learn a bit about cutting and polishing.  Bit dull that one - I’d skip it.  Rounded off the day at the Bols House.  Distillers and makers of Genever, and those little Delft houses you get from KLM.  Made me think of you, Alan!  Did you know the term ‘Dutch Courage’ came from drinking Bols? 

KLM Bols Delft Houses

My mind is still on architectural musings.  The Soviet style I left behind in the East is built so that everyone has the same apartment layout (essentially), but there is no privacy.  Big, wide open spaces where everyone can be observed, no gathering spots to chat, very oppressive.

The architectural difference seems to be between uber-planning and hey, can we fit another house along this canal?  And who needs right angles anyway!?

In Utrecht, every apartment is different.  The spaces are fun and funky.  I assume some must be musty and damp, but I am happily ensconced in the cozy variety.  Streets are narrow and brick, so sightlines are short.  Small parks appear behind walls.  Still not total privacy.  The small packed spaces mean people looking in your window and you hear people walking past on those bricks.  And hear birds chirping and cats meowing.  Somehow the difference between being observed and observing feels completely different here.  Spring is also more advanced here, and the on-the-verge-of-blossoming world is beautiful.

Crocuses

A barge just floated past full of beer kegs.  Delivering to all the bars along the canal.  Love it.  Working on the canals must mean seeing the city in a sort of photo negative. Maybe that’s why I’m happy here – even the houses feel like boats.  

Seriously.  Boat of kegs, with delivery crane.

Maybe love is just stroopwafle.

Catching Up

I’ve been off the writing game for a few days.  I think that Auschwitz Birkenau made me think of too many words, none of which I want to share yet.  Then I emotionally yoyo-ed to the archaeology museum under Krakow’s Cloth Market.  Other than a few technological issues, it’s a great place.  Krakow has done a wonderful job of preserving and interpreting their historic center.

Following Krakow I traveled north to Warsaw to stay with Steve A.  His parents are friends of the family, and they pimped him (well, his guest room and washer/dryer) out to me.  Since the train connections in the south of Poland suck, it made some sense to head north before moving west.  Plus, you know, laundry!

Warsaw had 83% of its buildings destroyed during WWII, and the Soviet influence thereafter makes the city an architectural nightmare.  If someone would like to explain the differences in Brutalism, neo-Brutalism, and Soviet architecture: I’m all ears (hint, hint, Michelle S.).  

I mean really, what is this?

So I toured the rebuilt prettier parts in Old Town and New Town, ate sushi for the first time in months, and went to the Warsaw Rising Museum (http://www.1944.pl/en/).  I expected the treatment of the Nazis in the exhibits (who do you think destroyed that 83%?) but I was deeply surprised by the absolute fury expressed at the Soviets.  Despite my healthy knowledge of history, I really knew much more about the Ghetto uprising than the general uprising in August 1944. 

The uprising was prompted by the Soviet Army entering from eastern Poland, and indeed was encouraged by Stalin.  But the Varsovians were left without support, even hindered by the Soviets, and left fighting the Nazis alone for over two months.  The Russians held back, planning to take the weakened Polish nation for themselves, and even refused Allied planes access to their airstrips for airdrops of food and weapons.  The cynical cruelty of it all is breathtaking. 

Another element that struck me was this: when I was at Auschwitz someone who had been a young teen during the war (non-Jewish, local resident) said, “there was nothing we could do”.  In Warsaw women and children were active participants in the uprising.  Acting as medicals, as guides through sewer tunnels, operating radios and telephones, and delivering mail and newspapers to ensure communication throughout the recaptured areas.  Yes, many of them died, but the *shrug*, “what could I have done” is paid out for the lie that it is. 

The Soviets are given an additional drubbing because after the war they rounded up the remaining members of the Army and executed them because they didn’t want Polish Nationalists running around.  Pretty bitter history all around.  It does do more to explain the love the Poles feel for John Paul II.  He isn’t just local boy made good, he also had some harsh words for the Soviets at a time when most people weren’t criticizing them.

Not that Warsaw was all bad!  Don’t think that.  Steve and I had some great Greek food.  But this history of this area is all so grim.  So of course my next stop was Berlin.  I’m an idiot.  Though levity-wise the train trip was great.  My train compartment companions didn’t speak English and I don’t speak Polish, but we nevertheless counted all of the deer we saw along the way.

My first impression of Berlin is that the whole place is under construction.  And I do like that a university building is named for Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm.  I’m only spending one day here so I jaunted over to the Berlin Wall Memorial.  It’s just heartbreaking.  More negative feelings about the Soviets.  Then I checked out the Brandenburg Gate and the Reichstag.  Now I have cookies, because they may make me feel better.  Either way, I’m off the Utrecht tomorrow to stay with Kate.  I expect that time to be much, much cheerier.  

Remnant of the wall.

Brandenburg Tor.  On the subway, they do not pronounce that like you'd expect.  Is there a German version of a Brooklyn accent?

Auschwitz Birkenau

Krakow

Once again I am in a lovely place with an Old Town, castle, and river below.  Hello Krakow!  It’s also snowing here.  Very pretty.  They are very, very proud of Pope John II here.  Makes sense, as he’s the local boy.  I have extremely mixed feelings about it.  I think his time on the throne of St. Peter did so much damage that I don’t know if I will ever see the Catholic Church in a positive light.  So I haven’t gone on any cathedral or castle tours because I don’t want to give them money.  Silent protest.

When I set out on this trek, I had two must-see locations.  The first was the Herge Museum, which I checked off pretty quickly.  Yesterday I finally made it to number two.  The Wieliczka Salt Mines!  These are just so cool.  They were mined from the 14^th century until about 10 years ago.  There are now two tours: the usual commercial route that takes you through the chambers with carvings, chapels, and so on; and the miners route (opened in August) which is a completely different experience.  You suit up in a coverall, wear a CO₂ card, carry a flashlight and respirator, and go into unlit tunnels and shafts.  Of course I did both, and had a grand time.

On a day like this, spending 5 hours underground makes sense. 

Salt crystal chandelier. 

Whole lot of fancy salt carving, and good acoustics.

Mine carts are heavy.

Scrambling around in the dark was fun.  But I'm glad to not be a miner.

Food here is good and cheap!  I’ve had piroshkies, potato pancakes, liver, beef stew, and lots of beer.  Given the continuous snowfall stick-to-your-ribs food makes perfect sense.  Despite that - I’ve been wavering between two holes in my belt for months now.  Seems like I’m finally down at the smaller one.  While wearing long johns under my jeans.

The only expensive thing I’ve encountered is postage.  Enjoy those postcards folks.