Some Roads Lead to Rome

TO ALL

“All roads lead to Rome” is probably not axiomatic for the 21^st century, but I can now verify first-hand, that at least SOME roads do still lead to Rome. Travel time by car from Heidelberg is 16 hours. The manifest for this particular expedition was as follows: my dad and brother (Curt), Alan, Amy, and a friend from Heidelberg named Marion. Mike flew to Rome and* met us there so that he could limit his time away from work to a 4 day pass and not burn up leave. The rest of us elected to drive to Rome.

Roads
Leading to Rome








Although Ryanair is cheap and gas is expensive, with 6 people traveling together, driving is still somewhat cheaper than flying. Also, driving allowed us to (1) bring some food with us which would have been impossible with Ryanair’s stingy baggage allowance and (2) to explore a couple of other destinations enroute to Rome. Amy did most of the driving on this trip and she did a spectacular job.

Our first destination was Firenza, Italy -- otherwise known as Florence! (Alan and I are in the midst of an ongoing discussion about how these European cities have come to be known by a different name than the one used by their inhabitants. So far we haven’t come to any definitive conclusions.) Our base camp for exploring Firenza was Camp Darby, an American military base which is about an hour away – near Pisa. We stayed two nights at Camp Darby which gave us a full day in Florence to take in --

(1) the Uffizi Gallery (pronounced oo-FEETS-ee), home of lots of famous Renaissance paintings,

(2) the Academia Galleria, home of the original statue of David by Michaelangelo as well as some other sculptures, and --

(3) the Duomo, the Cathedral in Florence.

None of us in the group claim to be art connoisseurs but it seemed irresponsible to be in Europe and especially to go to Florence without taking in at least some of that sort of thing and attempting to broaden our horizons at least a little. I’m not sure that the Uffizi Gallery was all that enlightening or enjoyable but seeing the original full-size David in real life (not just a picture in a book) was impressive. (For all you non-art connoisseurs this is the Biblical -- although totally naked -- David with a slingshot over his left shoulder and a stone in his right hand.)

We learned on this trip that when Italian museums say “no pictures” they mean NO PICTURES – not even without a flash. This is one place where my basic sin nature rears its ugly head and I become recalcitrant. With a digital camera it’s pretty easy to take pictures unobtrusively and I have a history of doing that occasionally. In this case, I really wanted a picture of “David” – not just a postcard, but a picture to add to my computer screen-saver collection. My first attempt was a disaster. I thought for a few moments I was going to be asked to leave. I stood between a huge pillar and the wall where I thought no one would notice me and pulled out my camera. A museum employee pounced on me immediately and told me in no uncertain terms “no pictures, put camera in bag.” Unfortunately rebuke tends to egg me on. I bided my time, found a “better” location and eventually got a fairly decent picture. The only rationale I can think for not allowing pictures without a flash is that it ruins postcard sales. My response to that is – “If they didn’t have to hire so many guards to enforce the ‘no pictures rule,’ they would save as much in expenses as they lost in postcard sales and have happier customers to boot.” Many of the other museums in Europe allow pictures without a flash. I suspect that this is an illustration of the “almost third world” way in which Italians tend to do things – decisions aren’t always based on facts nor are they always terribly logical.

The Duomo in Florence is worth a comment or two. It is the first cathedral I’ve been in where there were no chairs or pews. It is just a big empty shell. That would seem to imply that it is no longer being used as a place of worship. But. . . . they make a big deal of making everyone cover up their shoulders and thighs as they enter the building on the pretense that it is a “sacred place.” So . . . do they move in pews or chairs when they have services or is this another example of Italians not always being very clear thinking or consistent? On another note – you would think at this point, having seen as many cathedrals as I have, that they would all begin to look alike. And, to be honest, I don’t know that I could correctly identify ANY of the cathedral’s I’ve seen based on a picture of the inside, but I COULD identify many of them based on a picture of the outside. The Duomo in Florence is one of those that cannot be easily confused with any other cathedral. Rick Steves calls it “the cathedral in pajamas.” “The cathedral in boxer shorts” might be even better.

On the way back to Camp Darby at the end of the day we made a quick stop at the Leaning Tower of Pisa and Amy had fun taking pictures of us holding up the Leaning Tower while Alan took pictures of the people taking pictures of people holding up the Leaning Tower.














Our next stop after Florence was the Amalfi Coast which is actually south of Rome.

"To drive or not to drive
That is the question

Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind
To endure the pangs of public transit

Or to take arms against the sea of constraints
And by opposing . . . get better pictures?"

I left this decision mostly up to Amy, knowing that if we drove, she would have to be the driver -- I would not be able to refrain from looking at the scenery well enough to maintain the van in its original shape. As it turns out I managed to inflict (indirectly) damage to the van without even being in the driver’s seat. But I’m getting ahead of my story. The advantages of driving were (1) the ability to stop at pull outs to take pictures and (2) greater flexibility in terms of exploring towns along the way and stopping to eat lunch. The disadvantages were (1) the sanity of the driver could be seriously jeopardized, (2) the ability of the driver to enjoy the scenery would be severely limited, and (3) the possibility of taking a boat back to the starting point and being able to enjoy the scenery from another prospective would be eliminated.

As it turned out the deciding factor was none of the above – it was a bit of trivia that Alan brought up at the 11^th hour. He talked Amy into driving so that he could use the GPS that goes with my PDA (and runs ONLY off of DC power from a cigarette lighter) to write down the coordinates for every picture I took along the way so later on he could “geo-tag” them using a feature of “Google Earth."

At this point a couple of notes about driving in Italy. (1) I first learned about the Amalfi Coast from my hair stylist in Tacoma whose name is Edward. According to Edward one of the axioms of driving in Italy is that “the faster you go, the skinnier you are.” He actually had the gall to state this supposed axiom in Mike’s hearing -- it was the only time Mike has ever been with me when I got a haircut – and it may be the last time that Edward cuts my hair!!!!. Mike didn’t actually get to do any driving in Italy, but it seems that he has been testing the validity of this idea in Heidelberg and the result is that both of our cars now have missing or damaged side mirrors. (2) Italians seem to have a propensity for driving with two wheels just over the lane line – either in the lane to the right of them or in the one to the left of them. We observed this strange behavior both on the autostrada (i.e. the freeway) and in congested parts of town. Maybe they are trying to see ahead???? Who knows. (3) In Germany if you look in your rear view mirror to change lanes and notice someone in the lane next to you flashing their headlights at you it means “I’ll let you in.” In Italy it means “Get out of the way, I’m coming through.” It pays to know what country you are in!

Which leads me to a comment about Italians in general. As Alan put it, their society seems to be based on aggression, i.e aggressiveness is a character quality that they value highly. Hence we witnessed an inordinate number of fights – either physical or verbal – in the time we were in Italy. Maybe this is also why they are so obsessive with “no pictures” rules??? And why they tolerate aggressive begging on the streets??? And why they drive with two wheels in the next lane??? Contrast this mindset with the Swiss who value politeness and consideration – to the extent that some would consider it improper to take a shower after 9:00PM at night because you might disturb your stairwell neighbors!

So . . . back to the Amalfi Coast. After spending the night in a delightful pension in a little town on the coast called Sorrento, we took off the next morning to “do” the Amalfi Coast. It truly was spectacular – sheer cliffs, expansive views, villages clinging to the steep slopes above the cliffs, brilliant blue water, beaches way down below the road accessible only by stairs (or sometimes an elevator!), Mt. Vesuvius in the distance etc, etc. We had a beautiful, sunny, clear, day for exploring. The road was not quite as hair-raising as all the tour books implied and there were actually some pull outs where we could park and take pictures and allow Amy to enjoy the views, too. All that doesn’t necessarily mean that we recommend driving the Amalfi Coast but just that it IS “doable.”

One of those stairways
leading to a beach

Mt. Vesuvius from the Amalfi Coast Road

We did have one mishap – could be minor or major depending on one’s view of such things. I was riding in the middle seat of the van on the side next to the ocean. We were going really slowly through some little town and stopping occasionally for traffic. I asked permission from the group to leave the sliding van door open while we drove so that I could see better and take pictures. We had a little discussion about whether the door being open would cause the van to be “wider” and thus make it harder for Amy to avoid scraping against something and we decided that the open door didn’t stick out any farther than the R.H. rear view mirror. I got approval from a couple of people and only mild disapproval from others, so I opened my door. (You can see again what a compliant person I am!) Note: had Mike been with us at this point, he would NOT have allowed this to happen! The arrangement worked quite well for a while and I got some really good pictures. As we laughed and giggled our way through town, acting like a bunch of teenagers, we heard an Italian on the sidewalk call out “Americano!” Was the open door the give away or the “USA” in tiny letters on our license plate? When we left the little town and Amy starting picking up a little speed, she started insisting that I close the door. Unfortunately I was too slow in complying. I asked her to pull over at a little “viewpoint” I saw coming up, intending to close the door there. As she turned right into the pull out, she cut the corner too close and scraped the sliding door against a concrete barrier. Our little party came to an abrupt end and the euphoria of the day never quite returned. Fortunately the sliding door still opens and closes – although it’s a little stiffer and a little noisier than before and the electric lock doesn’t work. The paint and metal damage is not exactly a “minor,” but it could be worse. What we don’t know yet is whether it might leak in a good downpour.

So . . . . one sentence about the scenery along the Amalfi Coast and a whole long paragraph about our mishap doesn’t seem quite right, but I don’t know what else to say about the scenery. Words just don’t do it justice. Maybe a few pictures will help.

We ended our day on the Amalfi Coast at a campground on the northern edge of Rome called Camping Tiber (“Tiber” as in the Tiber River, pronounced TEE-burr), where we had reservations for a couple of trailers for the next five nights. At this point we parked our car and didn’t move it again until time to head home. Driving IN Rome was not an option we had ever considered.

Camping Tiber was the cheapest thing I could find with AC. I understood from the tour books that many accommodations in Rome do not have AC and Rome can be sweltering in August. Camping Tiber was a ways out from the center of Rome but close to a metro line plus the campground provided a free shuttle to the nearest metro stop. Air conditioning in Italy is typically operated with a remote control – like a TV remote. If you pay for AC, they give you the remote control, if you don’t pay for it they don’t. As it turned out, the days in Rome were pretty hot, but the nights were cool – almost desertlike. The first night we were there we turned off the AC in our trailers before we went to bed and opened all the windows. We woke up freezing the next morning. The next night we turned in the AC controls to save a little money, closed all the windows before we went to bed, and still weren’t any too warm. Amazing.

Rome is rightly called “the junkyard of western civilization” and there is truly a lot there to see. However, as with most sightseeing trips, sometimes the little things that happen along the way, that have little if anything to do with the sights themselves, end up being what stands out in one’s mind when it’s all said and done. So – before I talk about the actual sights I have a couple of stories to get off my mind – some are funny, some not.

(1) The second day we were in Rome my dad got his wallet “picked” from his pocket. It was a classic “Rick Steve’s scenario” and very preventable had we taken Rick’s advice. At our suggestion, my dad did have his wallet in his front pocket instead of his back pocket. But it shouldn’t have been in a pocket at all. One morning, we got on a VERY crowded subway. A lady and a little girl tried to wedge themselves between Curt and me as we boarded. I was concerned about the doors closing between us and getting separated so I was pretty aggressive about not letting them get between us. It should have occurred to me that the lady wasn’t just being rude -- she had targeted Dad. When the lady and little girl got in, they shoved their way to the center of the car near Dad. I was annoyed (but still not savvy) and said in a loud voice “Just shove your way in lady.” Then I noticed a passport on the floor of the car and said “Isn’t that Curt’s passport?” (It had been through the wash a couple of nights before and therefore had a very distinctive look!). I know now that, as Curt and Dad and I were distracted and struggling to retrieve the passport, the little girl (being just the right height to see into pockets) pulled Dad’s wallet out of his pocket. Moments later the metro stopped, the lady and the little girl shoved their way to the door and got out. As they were leaving somehow a man standing next to us apparently sensed that something was wrong with their behavior and said to me “Do you have anything in your pockets?” Sure enough Dad did NOT. At the moment of discovery the Metro had not yet started moving, but the doors had closed putting the lady and her little girl just out of reach . . . Argh!!!! We got off at the main train station (Termini), asked directions to a police station, filed a police report, called VISA and Discover to report the stolen cards and were back on our original agenda within a couple of hours. Fortunately, Dad only had 10 euros in his wallet and we have since verified that there are no unauthorized charges on either card, so the financial loss is negligible. Unfortunately, he had a lot of other stuff in his wallet that will be a big headache to replace – driver’s license, Medicaid card, etc, etc. So . . . . we live and learn.

(2) Our Rick Steve’s book outlines something called a “Night Walk Across Rome” that some of us decided we wanted to do. The day of the pick-pocketing Dad and Curt pooped out early and went back to the campground. The other five of us started out on Rick’s walk about 7:00PM not realizing that the metro stopped running at 11:00 PM. When we sat down to eat supper about 9:30 PM we stumbled onto that bit of information. We should have gotten right up and headed home, but we had our hearts set on supper and couldn’t pull ourselves away. Amazingly we did manage to arrive at Termini a few minutes before 11:00 PM, but . . . . they were closed. We realized that the only option for getting back to our campground was a taxi and began negotiating a price. This time we followed Rick Steve’s advice to the “tee.” We insisted on agreeing to a price before we got in the vehicle and refused to get in anything that wasn’t an official taxi – one with a sign on the top and a number on the door. We ended up negotiating with 4 different drivers before making a deal. The first one wanted 70 euros. While I was protesting to Mike that we needed to ask around some more, Alan found a kid who said he would do it for 50 euros. As we piled into his “official taxi” I clarified “50 euros?” and he said “60” . . . . and we said “50” and he said “60” and we said “50” and finally he agreed and we started out. Next thing we knew we were pulling back up to the same taxi stand again and he was saying “Can’t do it for 50.” So we got out. Another kid said he would do it for 50 euros. While the other drivers were trying to convince him (in Italian) that he shouldn’t do it for that price, an old man walked up and said he’d take us for 50 euros. We followed him to his “taxi” and got in, but then Alan pointed out that his “taxi” wasn’t an official taxi so we got out and went back to the kid again. He agreed to do it for 50 euros and we took off a second time wondering what would happen next. Amazingly after some amount of time, we arrived at Camping Tiber and he accepted our 50 euros --- whereupon Alan politely gave him a 10 euro tip. What a day!!!!

(3) Our last day in Rome we had another interesting taxi experience. We were trying to get from the Mammertine Prison (where Peter and Paul were each incarcerated for some period of time) to the Pantheon (one of the oldest buildings in Rome, originally built as a temple for worshiping Greek and Roman gods). There weren’t any very simple bus / metro connections, it was really hot, and Dad was getting tired, so Dad and Curt and I took a taxi. Most taxis don’t hold 6 people, so the others walked a few more blocks and found a bus. I got in the taxi and told the driver “Pantheon.” After several exchanges he said “Oh, PAHN-tay-on!” (slightly different pronunciation). He just sat there for a long time and finally confessed that he didn’t know where the Pantheon was!!!! It was less than a mile away but I had to get out my map and show him where it was!

(4) It seems that the “wait people” in Italian restaurants are typically men and they all like to joke around. At one particular restaurant, Marion pointed to something on the menu and asked “How do you pronounce this?” Our waiter said “How do you pronounce it?” and then bantered back and forth with her (and the rest of us) for several minutes before he pronounced it and took our orders. Then he kept coming back to our table and asking Marion “Now what did you order again? The cook staff wants to know.” Finally he confessed that he wasn’t Italian either. He was from Iran. So then Marion asked him “How do say ‘thank-you’ in Iranian?” He said “We have a word for thank-you but we don’t use it much. We usually say ‘Merci.’ So then after that we called him “Monsieur.”

(5) I got my hair cut in Rome. When in Rome do as the Romans do – right? Actually what brought this on was a combination of my own poor planning in regard to scheduling a haircut and my impatience with the consequences. One day we sat down at a restaurant to order lunch and Mike observed that there were several male hair stylists in a nearby salon who didn’t appear to be busy. I decided to test a theory I’ve developed recently in regard to haircuts -- possibly a corollary to Murphy’s law???. My theory is that the best haircuts can never be obtained in the town in which you are living. With a little prodding, Mike agreed to go in with me and inquire about the possibilities of a haircut. The receptionist spoke English and negotiated an appointment for me 40 minutes hence with “the Professor” – a rather elderly looking man in totally unstylish mismatched clothes. I was able to figure out how to translate most of my “tried and true” instructions into sign language. His methods were totally different that anything I’ve ever experienced. But, amazingly enough, I walked out with a pretty good cut. During the haircut, he managed a couple of comments in English: “Ma’dam, you’re hair is very dry. I use a rinse?” . . . and later . . . “Ma’dam, you have too much hair.”

(6) There are lots of beggars in Rome – many of them young women with a babe in arms – and they are very aggressive. The polizia chase them off when they catch them, but they come right back again as soon as the polizia are out of sight. One day when we were eating lunch a female beggar approached our table and was not taking “no” for an answer. I told her in a loud voice to go away and motioned to that affect with my arm. She lit into me with a vengeance and did her best (in Italian) to make me feel really guilty for being so heartless to her.

So now, on to the sights themselves –

Rick Steve’s has a book out called “Mona Winks” that turned out to be invaluable on this trip (or so I think -- some members of our group were less enthusiastic). The book outlines walking tours of about 20 different locations in Europe – mostly art museums but some outdoor areas as well. It includes a couple of “walks” in Florence and a couple in Rome. The book tells you which of the exhibits in a museum are particularly worth looking at and what you need to know to appreciate what you are seeing. Lots of the places we visited had audio guides available, but we used “Mona Winks” and Rick Steve’s “Italy” instead and found that to be satisfactory. The only gripe I have is that when Rick Steve’s talks about the theology behind a particular work of art and he says things I don’t quite agree with, it is hard to tell if the problem lies with his reporting which comes out of a non-Christian worldview or with the Renaissances artists themselves. For example in the Sistine Chapel, in a scene called “The Last Judgment,” there is a self-portrait of Michaelangelo on a flayed piece of skin in the hands of St. Bartholomew. Steves thinks that this is hint that perhaps Michaelangelo had some doubts about his own personal standing before God. I’m thinking that Michaelangelo may, in fact, have been looking forward to the Last Judgment – especially the part that involves shedding that which is mortal and putting on immortality. So . . . I guess the question is “Just how theologically on target were people like Michaelangelo and Leonardo da Vince?” Guess I should read up on this a little, huh? Or maybe some of you know?

Now, here are a couple of my favorite sites:

(1) The Sistine Chapel. To see the Sistine Chapel you have to walk through the Vatican museum, which is a very long one-way trek – no back tracking. The museum is basically a huge collection of statues and paintings from the early Christian era through the Renaissance. During the Dark Ages, the Catholic Church took on the role of preserving important works of art. It had then, and still has now, the wealth needed to store and display this art in a lavish way – hence the Vatican Museum. The Vatican Museum is interesting and “Mona Winks” was very helpful, but the highlight is definitely the Sistine Chapel at the end. Not having much info in my data bank about the Sistine Chapel, I didn’t have any preconceived ideas about its size or shape. About all I knew about it was that Michaelangelo painted the ceiling – lying on his back for many years to do it. It is in fact rectangular (not dome shaped) and pretty small – it is a chapel, not a cathedral. Located about in the center of the ceiling is the famous picture of the figures reaching out to each other with their index fingers almost touching, representing God giving to Adam the spark of life. Lots of other interesting Biblical scenes and characters as well.

(2) There are several sets of catacombs in Rome. We toured one called the Catacombs of San Sebastian. It turns out that “catacomb” is a transliteration of the Greek words meaning “near the pit.” The Catacombs of San Sebastian are accessed horizontally from a depression or low spot in the ground. So the term “catacomb” was originally a description of this particular set of catacombs and then somehow came to be applied to other underground burial areas as well. During early Christian times, Romans practiced cremation. Because of their belief in a bodily resurrection, Christians wanted to bury their dead. (Not that God can’t put back together a body that has been cremated, but that attempting to preserve a dead body is sort of a way of acting out one’s belief in the future importance of the physical body.)

Burial was not allowed within the city limits of Rome for sanitary reasons. And --- land was expensive. So Christians made the best use of any land that was donated for burial by digging several layers (or stories) of tunnels in the ground and making little alcoves or cubby holes in the walls of the tunnels in which to place the bodies. Some of the alcoves were large enough to bury an entire family. Some were only for individuals. As our guide led us through the maze of tunnels I couldn’t help thinking of that cave that Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher got lost in and I wondered if Injun Joe might be hiding just around the next corner. Although Christians were being persecuted during the time that the catacombs were built and used, they did not hide out in the catacombs. The Roman authorities were well aware of the existence of the catacombs so they would not have been a good place to hide. The Christians did however use the catacombs for their worship services, since they were not allowed to use other more logical places. Apparently some pagans also practiced burial and use catacombs. When Rome was Christianized in the 300 century AD, all the bodies were removed from the catacombs and reinterred in more appropriate places.

(3) As we did the sights in Rome, I kept noticing a particular kind of pine tree that we don’t have in the states. It is shaped sort of like a Tootsie Roll Pop. One day I asked “Does anyone happen to know what those pines trees are called?” My smart aleck son said “I think those are The Pines of Rome.” For all you non-musicians, “The Pines of Rome” is an orchestra suite by Respighi. It has several movements and one movement is entitled “The Pines of the Appian Way.” The Appian Way is one of those many ancient roads that led to Rome. It turns out that the entrance to the San Sebastian Catacombs is along the Appian Way. The Appian Way has been preserved and is now used as a bike / walking trail. Some of us decided that we’d like to rental bikes and go riding on the Appian Way. As you might guess we did this that same day that Dad and Curt went home early -- after the pick-pocketing and before the notorious taxi ride! Some parts of the Appian Way are paved with really large irregularly shaped stones – possibly the original ones? – which make for REALLY rough bicycle riding. But most of it is paved with smaller more regularly sized and probably newer stones. We started out about 5:45 PM. It was a gorgeous evening, the countryside was beautiful and there were some neat ruins along the way as well as some more modern estates with farm land around them. There were lots of people out walking or riding, but not too many to spoil the experience. It was peaceful and quiet and a nice change of pace from the rat race of the day. We would like to have gone a lot further than we did, but the bike rental place closed at 7:00PM.

(4) The Roman Forum is a term loosely applied to a large collection of buildings – mostly ruins -- that take up the equivalent of several large city blocks adjacent to the Colosseum which is itself a ruin. There are actually other “Forums” in Rome – Trajan’s Forum, for example, which is sort of across the street from the Roman Forum. It never was clear to us whether the term “Roman Forum” properly applies to all the ruins in that area near the Colosseum or only to some small section of it. Regardless, there are an amazing number of picturesque and interesting ruins in a fairly small amount of space.

Is this a junkyard or what?

Again, “Mona Winks” was a big help in sorting out the history and significance of things, though we decided that Rick’s “Walk Through The Forum” is a little impractical during the dead of summer in that it involves spending too much time outside in the heat. It would be better to do it in two segments with an air-conditioned museum in between . . . . . . or something. Most of the ruins in the Forum became ruins, not because of time and weather, but because the pre-cut stones were carted off to other places in the centuries following the fall of Rome to be used in other building projects. All that is left of some buildings is an outline of foundation stones.

What was interesting about the Colosseum was the interior. I guess that I had assumed that the Colosseum was just an empty shell.

It’s a lot more than that. The inside is designed a lot like our modern day stadiums with tiers of seats and a place for concessions around the outside, below the highest seats. The original floor of the arena is gone but it has been partly reconstructed to show how it would have been. Under the floor is a maze of tunnels and passageways for holding the animals and guiding them to various spots where they could then pop up through the floor and attack the human beings placed at their mercy.

(5) St. Peter’s Basilica and Square, the National Museum, the Baths of Diocletian, Circus Maximus, etc. All of these were interesting but not worth adding to the length of an already too long travelogue to describe.

St. Peter's Square

But there is one more little bit of trivia about our Italy expedition that I can’t resist telling. On the way to Italy, as I was tracking our progress on the map, I just happened to notice that there is a town in Switzerland called “Risch.” Some of you know that my maiden name is Risch. Some of the recipients of this travelogue bear the name Risch. The town of “Risch” was not far from the main route to Rome, except that we had actually gone past it at the point at which I discovered its existence. I made a mental note to alter our route slightly on the way home and go through the town of “Risch.”
We did in fact do just that. I don’t have any specific evidence, but it seems safe to assume that some of my not-too-far distant relatives live or lived in this town in Switzerland. We do know that my great-grandfather, from whom I got the name Risch, was Swiss/German. Regardless it is a beautiful little town on the shores of the Zugersee, near Zurich. I would be glad to claim it as part of my heritage.

Some of you know that there is a quirky little situation that exists in the present “Risch family.” Most of the Risches pronounce their name Reesch. When my mother married my father, she got really tired of trying to convince people that there was no “e” in her name, so she started pronouncing it with a short “i” – as if it rhymed with fish. We – the “Bob Risch family” -- have pronounced it that way ever since, much to the puzzlement of the other Risches. As we hunted down the town of “Risch” and took pictures of the “city limits” sign, I was relating these facts to my children – Alan and Amy – and also to my friend Marion. Marion just happens to speak Germany fluently, having been raised by a German mother and having lived in Germany most of her life. So now I have it from an authoritative source that the correct German pronunciation for “Risch” is with a short “i.” Possibly the Swiss, who have their own version of the German language say “Reesh” – I can’t speak to that possibility (Alan, maybe you can inquire about this when you get back to Zurich?) -- but, at the very least, the short “i,” rhyming-with-fish-pronunciation is a correct one.

On to some more relevant family news –

Alan really enjoyed his month in Zurich. The manager of the Google office there is pleased about the possibility of him working there long-term. Alan has the paper work submitted for a transfer and is hoping to be back in Zurich by mid-January.

Deanna is getting settled in at Cedarville University. She and I had a good week at Harvey Cedars Bible Conference in New Jersey with our friends Ron, Mary, and Kim Tallent. Afterwards we rented a car and drove to Cedarville, Ohio. The town of Cedarville is (as we were warned) a don’t-blick-or-you-will-miss-it town and CU itself is truly surrounded by corn fields. But the campus is really nice, the freshman student / parent orientation was well planned and very helpful, the atmosphere was positive, the “rules” seem to be adequate but yet reasonable, Deanna’s roommate and parents were very nice, and so far Deanna seems to like her classes and teachers. What more could we ask for?

Mike has been told that he was not selected for either of the Family Life School Supervisory positions (Ft. Benning, GA or Ft. Hood, TX). Somehow on the heels of that announcement he has been confronted with a number of other possibilities of where he might go next, and he’s feeling a little bewildered with the whole situation. Of course, it isn’t absolutely clear how much input he actually has in the final decision. He is threatening to volunteer to go “down range” (i.e. Iraq) for a year just to end the suspense.

I’m teaching a Bible study at PWOC (Protestant Women of the Chapel) again this fall. I am doing the book of Judges – not the Precept version, but I plan to sneak in some “Preceptish” assignments. So far the response has been good. I am looking forward to getting back to a little more of a schedule. I have been gone toooooo much this past year.

Nancy

P.S. Immediately after we returned from Rome we took off again on a 9 day excursion to Norway. This Friday is the beginning of a four day weekend for us military personnel. Mike and I are headed for Budapest, Hungary. So I am a little behind on travelogues. I delayed in getting this one out because I was determined to get my blog up and running so that I could post this travelogue WITH PICTURES. Hope you enjoyed them!

Great Britain and Normandy Historical Tour

TO ALL

It's been quite awhile since my last travelogue - last November to be exact. Deanna came home for Christmas and we did basically nothing -- at her request. Then I spent 2 months in Tacoma, Washington* auditing some classes at Northwest Baptist Seminary and spending time with my kids. When I got back to Germany I was kind of ready to stay put for a while, but it was time for a trip that I committed to long ago.

So . . . . on March 28th (over a month ago now) I met the juniors and seniors of Covenant High School (including Deanna) and 9 other chaperones at Heathrow Airport in London for their bi-annual 15 day historical tour of England, Scotland, and Normandy. Since behavior issues at Covenant HS are fairly rare, the title "chaperone" is somewhat of a misnomer. "Adult tag along" would probably be a more appropriate label. However, exceptional student conduct should not be misconstrued to imply that this was a leisurely or luxurious vacation. Staying in youth hostels is not exactly luxurious and traveling with sixty 17 and 18 year olds for 15 days is incredibly exhausting. When I left the group on April 11th in Glasgow, the only 2 adults who didn't seem to be showing significant signs of wear were our unofficial tour guides -- Mr. Bond (English and History teacher at CHS) and Mr. Hannula (ad hoc teacher and principal of Covenant High School). Either they are just in much better shape than I am or their love affair with history allowed them to function on adrenaline the entire trip or they have discovered the fountain of youth. I'm not sure which. They also have nerves of steel. Picture yourself doing the following: handing out to 60 high schoolers London tube maps and instructions for locating the Queens theater, then escorting them en masse to Westminster Abbey via the London tube, guiding them through Westminster Abbey and then releasing them to spend the afternoon and eat supper on their own in London (in groups of 3 or more) with instructions to show up at the Queens Theater for a performance of Les Miserables at 7:00 PM. If that doesn't send you into cardiac arrest, you either already work in secondary education at a fairly top-notch high school or you should apply for such work – whatever you are doing now your abilities are being wasted. If that DOES send you into cardiac arrest, resign yourself -- you are probably doomed to spend the rest of your life rubbing shoulders with lesser mortals like myself.

60
High School Students

10
Chaparones

1
Large Bus

A word about youth hostels before I go on to describe the more exciting parts of our trip. Hostels are a wonderful invention and I could happily incorporate them into all my future travel plans except for one thing - the rooms are too crowded. I don't mind sleeping on the top bunk in a room with 3 to 11 other people, using a community toilet and shower down the hall, eating the same breakfast every day, putting coins in a pay computer to check my email or even hauling my luggage up multiple flights of stairs - all in the interest of saving a few bucks which can then be applied to future travels. BUT I don't like having nowhere to put my suitcase. Some of the hostels we stayed in were more cramped then others but most of them were more or less wall-to-wall beds. Obviously you're not supposed to DO anything in your room other than lie in your bed (even just getting dress and undressed is a little iffy) and your luggage is supposed to be really minimal. I spend lots of nights with my suitcase on my bed for lack of anywhere else to put it. Car camping is a better deal. We can take the middle and back seats out of our van and have a lot more "privacy" and room in which to spread things out then most hostels provide. Nevertheless, getting Mike to drive our left-hand-steering-wheel van into right-hand-steering-wheel England is not a possibility and renting a van in the UK would be prohibitive (as are motel rooms!), so hostels are probably a fact of life - at least when traveling in the UK.

Which leads me to a word about driving conventions. Several of you have asked me about the chunnel - if they drive on the left in the UK and we drive on the right in the rest of Europe, what happens in the chunnel? We did not go through the chunnel on this trip, but our coach driver (UK lingo for "bus driver") for the Normandy part of the trip was quite knowledgeable about such things and I took the opportunity to ask him your question. His first answer was that things just get really dicey in the middle. When pressed further he explained that the chunnel is not technically a "car" tunnel - it is a railway tunnel. Taking your car through the chunnel actually involves loading it onto a train and then riding along in a passenger car. Also -- if you are among those lesser mortals like myself who feel extremely cautious about driving in the UK because of their left-hand driving convention, take heart. They feel equally cautious about venturing into our space. In fact, the coach driver with whom we started our trip refused to do the Normandy portion of the trip and his company had to find some else who had more "mainland" experience to take the wheel for those couple of days. One more thing - people do drive left-hand-steering-wheel cars in England "all the time." The problem is that if you're driving on a two lane highway it's impossible to ever pass anyone because you can't see the oncoming traffic at all. Hummmm.

One more logistical note before I go on to the sights themselves. All 60 of our students did in fact show up at the Queens Theater on time and intact. And such was the norm for the whole trip. We were required to show up in the "common room" of our hostel each morning at a certain time for morning devotions and a briefing about the schedule for the day. Anyone late was fined 1 British pound ($1.75). Kids were occasionally late, but not many and not often. But, when we were given free time during the day and told to be back at the bus at a certain time, no one was EVER late. In fact, 9 times out 10 the bus was actually rolling at the designated time. Head counts were easy on the bus because every seat was filled. Other times we counted off to be sure we had everyone. Everyone had a number between 1 and 70. Except in the mornings, when occasionally someone was late, we could count off in a minute or two at most and be on your way with everyone accounted for. Incredible.

The "focus" of this trip was historical - primarily Christian / protestant / reformation history and more specifically Scottish Presbyterian history but also some English history and a little bit of WWII history added in for variety. The kids spent a lot of class time preparing for this trip - even to the extent of taking some tests - and they were required to do some journaling during the trip - to the extent of having 20 journal pages ready for inspection on the plane trip home. (Also 2 original sonnets or hymns a few days later!) I came less prepared and I didn't do any journaling (or does this qualify?), but I did do some reading along the way and our resident tour guides were very helpful and hence I came back knowing a LOT more about all of the above topics than I did when I left. The itinerary for the trip was really "dense" - everyday was packed with sights. However, we did also have some free time almost every day for exploring on our own. Being a definite introvert and observing that Deanna had her own friends to hang out with (or more correctly "out with whom to hang" in honor of Winston Churchill who abhorred the idea of ending a phrase with a preposition), I did things on my own a lot during those free times and was quite content with that arrangement. I did not know any of the other chaperones prior to the trip. They were all very friendly and as a group we were all really compatible, but there weren't any Siamese twins among the group.

Now on to the sights. First a brief overview of the kinds of things we saw and then I'll highlight a few of my favorites.

(1) Cathedrals - Westminster Abbey, Winchester, Bayeaux, Rouen, Canterbury, and Durham.

Bayeux Cathedral . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Rouen Cathedral

(2) Other churches - John Wesley's chapel in London, John Bunyan's church in Bedford, Elstow Abbey where John Bunyan was a bell-ringer, John Wycliffe's church in Lutterworth, John Newton's church in Olney, the church C.S. Lewis attended, St. Giles Church in Edinburgh where John Knox preached, etc, etc, To be honest I've seen as many churches and cathedrals as I want to for a long time. Mike wanted to show me a couple of churches in Speyer (a town near Heidelberg) the weekend after I got back from Great Britain. Had I not been cherishing his companionship after having been away so much, I would have staged a protest and refused to go in. On that note --- I will limit my comments about cathedrals and church to one general observation: in Great Britain they are generally less dark and gloomy than they are in the rest of Europe.

C.S. Lewis Gravestone . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Narnia Window

3) Graveyards -- those associated with the above cathedrals and churches, also one in Edinburgh that some of us just "happened onto" during our free time where the economist Adam Smith is buried, and one in London called Bunhill Cemetery (probably originally called Bonehill Cemetery) where all the non-conformists - like John Bunyan, Isaac Watts, and Suzanna Wesley - were buried during the reign of Catholicism. During the plague bodies were literally just dumped in Bunhill Ceremony.

Olney Church Graveyard

(4) Castles - Tower of London, Dover Castle, and Edinburgh Castle

Dover Castle

(5) Universities - Cambridge and Oxford

Cambridge University

(6) Sites where various people were martyred - Thomas a'Becket (Canterbury Cathedral), Bishops Latimer and Ridley (Oxford), Patrick Hamilton and George Wishart (St. Andrews), Joan of Arc (Rouen, France)

(7) Various Ruins - Landisfarne Priory (where the Landisfarne Gospels were kept hidden for several centuries), Hadrians Wall and Vindolanda (1st century Roman structures).

Lindisfarne Abbey

Now, here are few of my favorite sights / events:

(1) Les Miserables - Prior to this trip my "exposure" to Les Mis was limited to one viewing of the movie version. I was a little concerned as to whether I would remember the story line well enough to follow what was happening. My family can testify that following the story lines of movies / plays is an ongoing problem for me. This was an exception. Every word of every song was enunciated absolutely perfectly and from start to finish it was an incredible production and a powerful storyline to boot. When we were in Vienna I can honestly say that I enjoyed Manon Lescaut, but that was the kind of thing you sort of had to work to enjoy. This was a sit back and relax kind of enjoyment. I would go back again at the drop of a hat. Of course I don't actually know how much the tickets cost since it was all part of the tour. If I did, I might think twice about going back. Maybe not knowing what it cost was part of the reason it was so much fun!!!!

(2) The British Museum - some of you already know that I am not too "into" museums. In fact I've been known to find something else to do when I've found myself with a group of people who wanted to "do" a museum. Amazingly enough, this was a museum I really enjoyed. It was neat to be able to see things in real life that I've heard about all my life ---- like the Rosetta Stone and mummified bodies, and cuneiform writing and hieroglyphics, etc. Our "tour guides" - Mr. Bond and Mr. Hannula - did a good job of pointing us in the direction of certain rooms that contained all sorts of "stuff" related to the Bible. In fact, partway through our time there, I started realizing how often I've seen the British Museum referenced in Bible commentaries. All that archeological stuff that verifies that the Bible is historically accurate is located in the British Museum. It is there because the Brits just happened to control the part of the world in which it was discovered at the time it was discovered. For example --- Cyrus's Cylinder in which Cyrus, King of Persia, decreed that the Jews should go back to Jerusalem after the Babylonian exile. That particular item we didn't actually get to see because the room it was in was closed for renovation. But we did get to see Nabonidus's cylinder which verifies that there really was a King of Babylon named Belshazzar - Daniel didn't just make that up as certain naysayers claimed for many years. By the way a "cylinder" is just that - a barrel shaped clay tablet that has rows of writing on it, small enough that you could hold it in your hands and turn it as you read - assuming you could read cuneiform. Anyway, I now own a book (thanks to Mr. Bond and the British Museum bookstore) that details exhibits in the British Museum that have relevance to us as Christians. I'd love to go back someday. Alan has been thinking that he might transfer to London with Google which would have provided that opportunity, but it now looks like Zurich, Switzerland is a more likely possibility (more about that later).

The Rosetta Stone

Cylinder of Nabonidus

(3) The War Cabinet Rooms (ooops, another museum!)- this was the nerve center of British operations during WWII. It is right in the heart of London, although it was unknown to the average Londoner at the time and not even bombproofed until later in the war. Churchill and his wife and a wide variety of staff including some generals, Cabinet Secretaries, Royal Marine guards and typists, lived there for months at a time at various points during the war. It is all set up to look like it did during the height of its use. There are mannequins "working" in the various rooms, wearing the appropriate uniforms, using the actual telephones and other equipment with the actual maps still on the walls. You can see the room where the transatlantic telephone was installed that allowed Churchill to talk to Roosevelt. On the door it simply says "Keep out." Apparently most of the personnel never stopped to ask what was behind that particular door. There is a sign in one of the hallways that was updated daily describing the weather outside - the day I was there was "Fine and Warm." The staff meeting rooms are all set up ready for use and a glass wall allows you to see into Mrs. Churchill's tiny kitchen. All really fascinating.War Cabinet

(4) Pont du Hoc, Omaha Beach and the church at Sainte Mere Eglise. I watched "The Longest Day" several months ago, but I'd love to see it again after having been to these places. They were all very interesting and "well done." Somehow it's just easier to retain historical "details" when you're reading / hearing about them at the very place where they happened. Omaha Beach is the Arlington Cemetery of France - huge green fields filled with white crosses and walls inscribed with the names of those missing in action. Also giant maps on the stone walls of the monument - one of the Normandy coast and one showing all of Europe. Both are marked with the location of every unit on D-day - Army, and Navy, Allied and Nazi. I understand that my mother was engaged to a bomber pilot who was shot down somewhere in Europe during WWII. I assume that probably his body was never recovered. I don't even know his name (do you, Dad?) Could his name have been on the MIA list at Omaha Beach? Or maybe one of the other American cemeteries in Europe??????

Pont du Hoc has been left exactly the way it was at the end of the war - bunkers and gun placements everywhere and huge craters in the ground from all the shelling prior to the allied invasion. You can't get close enough to the edge to see the cliffs that the Ranger battalion actually scaled, but you can see similar cliffs on the coastline just to the north and imagine what was involved in taking that little point of land. The church at Sainte Mare Eglise has a dummy soldier hanging from the steeple by the cords of a very tattered parachute. Mike had planned to join our group for the Normandy portion of the tour, but the Army had other ideas, so he wasn't able to come. Maybe it's just as well because now we'll have to go back and there is lots more to see than what we saw. (It was great to see Ruth and Ron Bechtel and Jana Glessner from Tacoma, WA, who showed up at Omaha beach to say "hello" to our group. Wish we had had more time with them!)

Pointe du Hoc

Omaha Beach American Cemetery

Omaha Beach American Cemetery

Church at Sainte Mare Eglise

Church at Sainte Mare Eglise

(Parachutist Dangling)

(5) Arthur's Seat. This is a barren mountain overlooking the city of Edinburgh. We had a beautiful day for hiking to the top (except that it was INCREDIBLY windy). We took cabs to the highest parking lot above Edinburgh and then scrambled (about 30 minutes to an hour) to the top. Then we walked all the way back down ending up at the foot of the Royal Mile. The view at the top was really spectacular.

(6) St Andrews, Scotland. This is supposedly the town that "invented" golf. I am not even remotely interested in golf, but I really liked this town. Scotland in general was a favorite part of the trip for me, but I liked this town in particular. There is a castle there and the ruin of a cathedral - both are right on the coast and are particularly spectacular. Around the cathedral ruins is a fairly large graveyard (Samuel Rutherford's grave is there among others) and also a tower called "Rule's Tower" - the remains of a church that pre-dated the cathedral. You can ascend Rule's Tower for a good view of the area. One of the fun things about Scotland was that lambing season had just past when we were there and every flock of sheep had its requisite number of very young lambs wobbling or frolicking around. They were adorable.

Rule's Tower

View of St. Andrews from Rule's TowerLambing Season

(7) Weekend with host families in New Milns, Scotland. This event is a spin off of Dr. Rayburn's time in Scotland. Dr. Rayburn is the pastor of the church that sponsors Covenant High School and he did his doctoral work at Aberdeen University in Scotland. A former pastor of the church in New Milns, Scotland was a fellow student and friend of Dr. Rayburn's while he was there. When CHS began doing their Great Britain trips, the two of them (Dr. Rayburn and Ian Hamilton) hatched a plan whereby the students and chaperones would spend a weekend with various families in his church, experience the Scottish culture firsthand, fellowship with Christians in another country, etc, etc. Since then Ian Hamilton has moved on to another church (we actually met him in Cambridge!) and the CHS group has grown considerably, but the whole deal was such a hit with the New Milns congregation that they have continued the tradition. This was the 5th iteration of the event for my particular host family. We were preconditioned to understand that this was supposed to be THE highlight of the whole trip. I didn't think it was as wonderful as it was trumped up to be, so I'm feeling a little rebellious about even including it among the highlights. Maybe it's one of those things that is more fun to look back on than to actually experience. There were a couple of "problems" with the whole event from MY perspective. First it came at the end of the trip when I was so tired of being around people 24 hours a day that I could hardly wait to get home - then instead of things winding down I had to force myself into extrovert mode and smile and be gracious for 48 hours while living in the home of someone whom I had never met. To top that off, I somehow got put in a home with 3 male students who are, by nature, really quiet. The lady of my host family loved to talk and felt really uncomfortable with any amount of silence. My "quiet" boys were of NO help in keeping her entertained, so yours truly was front and center for the whole 48 hours. Enough complaining. Here were the good parts - Gordon and Jean Fleming and their 2 boys, Robert and Alan, were really friendly. Their accents were delightful. For the first 24 hours of so I had a lot of trouble understanding Gordon and I missed a lot of what he said and had the ask him to repeat a lot of the rest. But it got better. It was fun to be able to ask all those questions that you think of as you're traveling in another country and often never find the answers to because you don't know whom to ask. We got to taste some traditional Scottish food - like haggis, neeps, and tatties!!! (let's just say this is some kind of sheep "product," mashed turnips and mashed potatoes). Lastly, I got the opportunity to verify that I do still know how to ride a bicycle, albeit not with a lot of grace. I haven't been on one in 10 years. I have been noticing that there is a lot of good cycling to be done in Europe but somehow I was not getting around to actually doing any. So now the ice is broken, so to speak. The Flemings took us by ferry to a little island off the western coast of Scotland called Cumbrae and we rented bicycles and rode all the way around the island. I was afraid to ask how far it might have been around it. Fortunately it was pretty flat the whole way. Even so, I am really out of shape and it felt like a hundred miles!!! The weather was iffy to start with but it turned out beautiful and the scenery was incredible.

OK, so that's the Great Britain trip in a nutshell. Now for some family news. After the Great Britain trip I was home for 10 days and then went to South Carolina. No, I'm not kidding. Mike had to do two weeks of training at the chaplain's school at Ft Jackson related to his promotion to LTC. He was authorized a room at the Ramada Inn and a rent car and I had no responsibilities in Germany, so I flew Space A to Charleston AFB and joined him. I enjoyed the sunshine and the pool and the fitness room and the opportunity to be a hermit for 2 weeks. So now I am back in Germany again for a couple of weeks. Next on the calendar is a week in Oberammergau, Germany with Mike (some kind of NATO training) and then back to Washington State for Deanna's High School graduation. Amazingly enough the PWOC ladies have asked me to teach a Bible study in the Fall - apparently they think that there is some hope that I might stay home for some extent period of time in the Fall!!!! Hmmmmmm.

Deanna is about to graduate from Covenant High School and has been accepted to Cedarville University in Cedarville, Ohio, for the Fall. Cedarville is a small town near Dayton, Ohio. Cedarville University is a Christian school - a little larger than most Christian schools and somewhat more challenging academically. It is loosely tied to the General Association of Regular Baptists - same brand of Baptist as our church in Tacoma. Deanna knows several people presently at Cedarville and at least one other student from her school is also going there in the fall. Deanna is going back to Bootcamp at Precept Ministries for the 4th time this summer and then probably "home" to Germany for a month or so.

Alan is still enjoying his work at Google. He can now tell us what he is actually doing there - at least for part of the time - assuming we can actually understand anything he says. I THINK that he is formatting web content for a big European cell phone company called Vodafone. Apparently Google started working on this project before the contract with Vodafone was actually signed, so it was hush-hush until about mid-Feb when they finally got the contract signed. New chapters are being written weekly in the saga of Alan's possible transfer to Europe, so this may be out-of-date before you read it, but at the moment it looks like he will be working in Zurich, Switzerland for a month this summer (July possibly) with the idea of moving there long-term if he likes it. English is THE language of the computer world, but Alan has also been working on learning German, so that works out well. On another note, Alan somehow fell "heir" to the job of lead teacher for a "community group" Bible study at his church. They are working their way through the book of Romans. I'm thrilled to see him teaching. He's not sure what to think - except that it's lots of work!

Amy is settling in at Western Washington University in Bellingham. She had thought she was going to spend the summer in Germany and had a list a mile long of sightseeing destinations, but reality has set in. She needs to take a chemistry class this summer in order to get started on her major in the fall. This fall will be year 4 of college so it does seem like it's time to start on a major! (Just harassing you a little, Amy. You're a great kid.) Anyway she is going to be home for a month or so starting in late August. Hopefully my dad and brother and Alan will all be here about that time, too. We have some wild hair-brained things planned - like driving south to Rome and back and then north across the bridge from Denmark to Sweden and Norway.

Mike was promoted to Lt. Colonel and I managed to be home when it happened (March 24th). The second is probably more amazing than the first. This is a big milestone for Mike and I am proud of him. It also guarantees us 20 years in the Army and hence some retirement pay. Mike planned the ceremony and the "party" while I was busy traipsing around the world and both were a big success. On a sadder note -- Mike is being "forced" to take over at least parts of his boss's job while continuing to do his own job. Not good. His boss is PCSing (moving, for all you civilians) and will not be replaced due to the domino effect of someone in the food chain being "non-deployable." So Mike is having to scale back his family life assignment to part time - or maybe quarter time - and take on new tasks that are strictly administrative - very little interaction with people. He is NOT happy about this turn of events - not the added work load as much as the nature of the assignment. He'd much rather be the one deploying to Iraq - fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, that isn't a possibility because they have to continue to make it look like he is the family life chaplain. The Army spent a lot of money training him to do that job so it needs to look like he is utilizing the training. Such are the joys of working in a bureaucracy. The bottom line is - he wasn't too happy with his job before, now less so. I keep reminding him that this is the first time in 17 years in the Army that he has had an assignment that he really didn't like, but somehow he doesn't seem too comforted by that thought.

I'm sure you're all half asleep by now, so . . . . . . . sweet dreams.

Nancy

Cliffs of Dover