Europe

On the Train to Munich

When you get on a train in Europe and look for an unreserved seat, people don’t politely make way for you like they do in the States. In fact, they ignore you completely until you are practically on top of them and then they are forced to move their crap so you can sit in the seat. Such was the case when we sat down with a young woman also going to Munich.

Twit on the Twain to Munich

Eventually, having eavesdropped on our conversation, she volunteered some sightseeing tips. I complimented her on her English. She said, “English is my first language”. But there was a whiff of contempt in her voice and she had an accent that was not from any English speaking country I was familiar with. “Where are you from?” I asked. “Trinidad” she answered, “The British colonized my country”. Now I understood where the contempt was coming from. Add to that a smug, self-satisfied, condescending little twit and you have her in a nutshell.

The Peaceful Warrior who Defeated an (civilized not evil) Empire

It was as if she had plucked a nerve. Game on. “Good for you. It’s a good thing the British colonized Trinidad,” I smiled. She looked down, her mouth twisted into a smirk then she shook her head. It was a moment before she could find words, then she came out with these gems: “The British cut off hands,” she scowled looking directly at me, challenging me.

“Do you know who Ghandi is? The Mahatma?” I asked and waited because anybody who is stupid enough to blurt out that the British cut off hands is stupid enough to not know who Ghandi was. She looked confused for a moment, hesitated and then slowly said, “Yeeahh” as if unsure. “Ask yourself something,” I continued, “Do you think Ghandi would’ve survived peacefully protesting under Stalin, Mao or Hitler?” She smiled ever so slightly and said softly, “Nooo”. I remained quiet. She said, “I never thought of that.” Slam dunk.

Let’s Talk Conquistadors on our way to Munich

Not only did the British give her and her ancestors the gift of the English language, but four years after Trinidad was ceded to the British from the Spanish, the British completely prohibited slavery. The Spanish, on the contrary, encouraged everyone to bring their slaves with them when they populated the islands. I said to my Trinidadian companion, “If you want to talk about blood-thirsty colonialists, let’s talk about the Spanish.” She stared at me like a goldfish, bereft of any general knowledge whatsoever. But I already knew what she was the second she uttered that petulant remark about the hands.

“The Spanish raped, looted, tortured and killed their way all over the Caribbean and Central and South America looking for gold.” Do you know what she said? I admit I was surprised at this level of ignorance. She smirked and said, “And they found none.” Holy shit what a dumbass. I was really enjoying myself now. “No! They found a lot. They found so much that they became the richest, the biggest and most powerful Empire in Europe.

Will wonders never cease to amaze? No, they will not. I feel sorry for people like her who walk around with big chips on their shoulders until they meet people like me who slap them off so fast they don’t know what happened. You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.

This was the first one, the model. All the rest are based on this one. Dachau opened on March 10, 1933, 5 weeks after Hitler became chancellor. It had the longest run. However, it was not strictly a death camp like Auschwitz and Treblinka where one arrived, disembarked and was sent straight to the gas chambers. The prisoners at Dachau lingered as if to give the illusion that people were only being detained. And as they lingered they weakened and starved to death or succumbed to illness or committed suicide.

Terror

Right after I stepped through the gate and looked at the square, my whole body lit up with chills. My arms, chest, and legs felt ice cold. For just a fraction of a second, I panicked and then as soon as I told myself to stop it, the feeling left me. I was able to walk forward. It was a physical reaction to a horrifying place.

Photo by Daniel Morris on Unsplash

Early Celtic societies took hostages to make sure that the other side carried out their contractual obligations. Hostages served as collateral. They were usually the sons of vassals beholden to the overlord. However, daughters were also taken. If the vassal reneged or rebelled against the authority of his lord, the hostage could be blinded, hurt, or even killed.

Malo was a 7th-century (that’s the 600s) Welsh monk who ventured over to Brittany to join a hermit named Aaron D’Aleth on the site of what is today a charming medieval walled city that is a popular tourist destination in France. I don’t know if Aaron appreciated this houseguest since he was a hermit. Actually, a hermitage was also a religious retreat for monks. An Irish monk had already laid claim to what is now Mont Saint Michel one hundred years earlier. What’s with these Celtic monks moving south?

Pagans Invade

The Romans pulled out of “Britannia” as they called England, circa 410 AD. They had been there for almost 500 years. However, life had started to deteriorate even before that and some theorize that the Britons invited Angles and Saxons to help them repel the Picts and Irish. The Angles and Saxons were from what is now northern Germany but had been living separately from Germany for many generations by this time. They were pagans. Christian monks may have decided to leave for greener pastures and sail across the English Channel to places like Saint Malo and Mont Saint Michel.

Whose Idea was Mont Saint Michel?

Has anyone ever nagged you so much about one thing in particular, that they actually end up poking you in the head with their finger? You put this one thing off for so long that the nagger has to physically push your head with their thumb. No, me neither. But this did happen to a monk back in the early 700s. He said he thought it was the devil telling him to build an oratory, which is why he procrastinated. Why would the devil ask him to build a church? You would think the devil would tell him not to build a church.

His name was Bishop Aubert from Avranches and the archangel Michael poked him so hard that he broke his skull. Jeez Louise buddy, take it easy. That skull is on display at the Saint Gervais Basilica in Avranches.

---

Today the abbey is overseen by monks and nuns from the Monastic Fraternities of Jerusalem. They run the Abbey and daily services. There are 7 priests and 5 nuns. I met a young nun at the post office. Her name was Claire. She smiled in a shy way and said they do not usually have their picture taken. She had already lived on Le Mont for 12 years. “So, you’ve been here since you were twelve?” I said. The post office worker behind the counter said something in French about that being a compliment. But, really she looked like she was 20. I asked if she would stay there for the rest of her life. She said she will go where the Fraternity sends her.

Rush Limbaugh once said, “If you ever get the chance, go see Mont Saint Michel.” So, I did get the chance and I went.

Solidarity

turned 40 last year.

What started as a workers union led by Lech Wałęsa at the Gdańsk Shipyard, turned into one of the biggest grassroots civic movements in world history. In 1982, amid martial law in Poland, when the trade union was delegalized, the movement had close to 10 million members. The population of Poland at that time was 36 million.

It remains the most powerful symbol of a nation too proud to submit to oppression. It is a nail in the coffin of communism in Europe.

This banner was the first thing we saw when we looked out our hotel window in downtown Warsaw. Even though the movement started back in 1980, its message is as important today as it was back then. Belarusians can take a page from the Solidarity playbook.

And one more thing before I continue. Warsaw has been destroyed and rebuilt so many times, it is called the Phoenix City.

Travel to Learn

Maureen’s history teacher had never heard of The Warsaw Uprising I’m sure there are many histories he is aware of that I have never heard of. This is why we travel. Mark Twain wrote, “I travel to learn.” How can you not visit a place or a foreign country and not learn a little bit about it while you are there? Even a flea-bitten, tourist trap of a tropical island has a history. You do it, and yourself, a disservice if you don’t attempt to find out what that history is.

Strauss

Deep in the Belarusian backwoods, there is one of the largest ostrich farms in Europe. When I say Strauss, you think Johann Strauss, right? The composer of the world-famous “Blue Danube” waltz. Does he remind you of an ostrich? Do ostriches ever enter into it at all when you see the name Strauss? I think not. Then why does ‘Strauss’ mean ostrich in Russian?

This ranch is located near Kobrin, approximately 45 miles from Brest. Moe wouldn’t bring her ostrich skin purse to the farm out of a certain sensitivity to the feelings of the big poultry. We ate ostrich while the poor birds roamed around outside. “Aren’t they beautiful?” asked Lucy. “Yeah”, I said as I gulped down more stew. Beautiful, tasty, enormous fowl.

Back at the Vesta Ranch

They finally changed the sheets. It only took them one week. I hear the VIPs on the fifth floor get new sheets every day. This must be the only hotel (Vesta Hotel) in the world where they still use keys instead of cards. One more thing, when you want to call the front desk; it is a six-digit number. Only when you call it, the number has been changed to…So you call THAT six-digit number. Again, we have no water from 11 am to 3 pm. I think they started construction the day we arrived and will finish it the day we leave.

It’s so hot. Almost 30 Celsius in this room. There’s no AC. They’ve finished digging the hole and laid the pipe. Today they filled in the hole. I hope they won’t be back. Now it’s only the crows who wake me up at dawn. Today we ate at the hotel. Moe had fried potatoes (dryanniki) and pork with mushroom sauce. I had blini with cottage cheese. It was really good Belarusian fare.

---

What’s that you say? That is a National Park. Belovezhskaya Pushcha is Europe’s last remnant of a primeval forest. ‘Belo’ means white. ‘Vezha’ means tower. Pushcha is an old Polish word that means primeval forest. It is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The coolest thing about this place is that it is the oldest wildlife refuge in Europe.

May I digress? UNESCO stands for United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization. They will decide what is educational, scientific, or culturally significant and worth preserving. We, the masses, need some group of nameless, faceless people to tell us that. Who are they to tell me what is worth preserving and what is not? I’ll decide for myself. Let’s continue.

Holes Again

I needed to explain to the staff that my daughter could not use the hole in the ground, Was there anything else available? I asked. By this time Maureen was developing a fear of holes in the ground. They were kind enough to suggest that she use the handicapped restroom.

Let’s pause for thought here. I am smacking myself on the forehead. I never even thought of the infirm or physically challenged patrons. What are THEY supposed to do? Well, I guess they use the handicapped facilities. But, also, if they have the technology to build normal, everyday bathrooms, then why can’t they? Why can’t they do this for the rest of us? Are we not worthy?

Back to the Pushcha

The Pushcha is what remains of a forest that once sprawled from the Baltic Sea to the Bug River. Now it covers 650 square miles. It is near the village of Kamenyuki, 93 miles from Brest. You can take a bus from Brest (see schedule at ticketbus.by.) A Lithuanian prince declared it a nature reserve way back in the 1300s. However, this is apparently bunk. Deforestation was outlawed in 1588. This is also bunk. They are cutting trees as I write this.

---

Before we go any further…

Don’t expect to hop in your car and drive around the park without a good reason and special permission. Most of the forest borders Poland, and people are not allowed near the border. Tourists stick to a designated area. There are two sightseeing buses twice a day. Organized bike groups on approved routes with a guide are available.

If you do rent a bike you get a booklet with a map and points of interest along the way. There are about 6 routes and the longest is 11.8 miles. No one will harass you but make sure you a) bring the bike back on time and, b) don’t linger near the border. There are also some small houses to overnight in. You can go fishing. You can’t camp out though. I read that they have a new route for electric scooters. For the latest go to https://npbp.by/eng/tours/cycle-routes/

Krakow (Pronounced Krakov) or Bust

I discovered that they have tours in English every hour at Auschwitz. They recommend not to bring children under 14. Yes, of course. What was I thinking? Maureen finally tired of playing x-box with the other kids in the lobby of the hotel. I told her we needed to change our ticket and go to Krakow instead. It’s 3.5 hours from Warsaw, and we would have to share the train car with 6 other people. We’ll see what happens with that.

Posters for our Viewing Pleasure

We ate Shwarma in the alley behind the Egyptian place and then walked to the train station. I must say, doesn’t seem to be any Pro-Putinites in this neck of the woods. I wonder why?

Street Scene near the Train Station

Lost in a Labyrinth

We got lost in this labyrinth coming back from the train station. Try not to get lost in a labyrinth. I took this picture of the roundabout on Marshall Square from our hotel window. I stared at that a few times before making a break for it.

Subterranean Blues

As you can see it is a daunting task to try and navigate this thing on foot overland with a child. But, it is possible. And once you cross this roundabout, you can see the station. It helped to keep the train station in view to reach it.

On the return trip underground, we ended up far from our hotel. So we dove back under many times. We resurfaced every so often to look around. We kept this up until, lo and behold, we popped up at the Novotel. I felt like a groundhog. It was worth it though. I bought a few beautiful calendars. It’s full of kiosks down there.

Please note that citizens of Belarus cannot access this website. I had to email each page to my people in Brest. And this is just a travel blog that they are not allowed to see.

(But first, a few days in Warsaw)

On our way over to Brest Belarus, we had front-row seats to a medical emergency. The guy sitting directly in front of Moe was dizzy and sweating and then he fainted. The pilot made an announcement requesting doctors on board to please assist. Fifteen minutes later, two women showed up. One was a nurse. Then FORTY minutes later a German cardiologist appeared. They laid him down in the four seats in front of us, kicking everybody out, and congregated around my head for over an hour discussing the whole thing.

This gentleman turned out to be 40 years old, on his way from Mexico to New Delhi via Houston, and he didn’t drink or eat anything for four days because he did not like the food and water in Mexico. I mention this because I couldn’t read or watch a movie for over an hour.

Moe and I are at the Radisson Blu Hotel in downtown Warsaw. Maureen is rooting for Belgium in the Soccer Cup. It’s in Polish. Sponge Bob was in German. Earlier she was sitting out in the hall for something to do and eating ice out of the ice bucket. I heard a woman say, “Why don’t you change the channel?” She came in shortly after that. I mean Maureen, not the woman.

Warsaw Destroyed and Rebuilt

“It is decisive to completely destroy Warsaw”

Heinz Guderian, German general

The “old downtown” has been painstakingly and lovingly rebuilt.

Warsaw is a lot more modern than I thought it would be. There are still Soviet-style apartment buildings everywhere, just like in Budapest, but more new buildings are going up. There are also more old parts of Budapest because it was not bombed to smithereens. Warsaw was not destroyed by planes dropping bombs on it during World War II. Warsaw was leveled to the ground by Nazi engineers who methodically placed explosives in every building.

Wartime Haven

This church in downtown Warsaw was located in the Warsaw (Jewish) Ghetto during World War II. The 75-year-old priest at the time, Marceli Godlewski, did not like Jewish people. However, when he realized German forces were murdering Jews, he did everything he could to help them. His priests hid Jewish children, smuggled in food and drugs, fed the starving inhabitants, and smuggled people out. He saved between 1 to 3,000 Jewish people. He is recognized as one of the “Righteous among Nations” by Israel.