Tyrolian Alpine Club

Via Ferrata was never on my bucket list, but here we were in Austria, in the Alpine village of Ellmau, where every view is an MGM backdrop of stunning mountains.

Starting Point of Hike

We drove all day to visit our dear friends Ingrid and Franz and we spent the evening after a great dinner planning the hike for the next day. It was supposed to rain in the afternoon so we decided not to go too far away and to get an early start. An easy via ferrata would be on the menu if we felt up to it. Steve had already done a very difficult one with Jed. I remember that he was partially in shock when he returned from that excursion.

Happy Hikers, Ingrid, Franz, Anita, Sreve

I was skeptical that Franz could offer us an "easy" vf due to previous hiking experience with him. I was a tiny bit more concerned when Ingrid fitted me to the harness I would wear. They had various sizes of the apparatus. I was the only one who would wear one. I sensed a lack of confidence in my surefootedness and stamina but did not object to using the harness. Suddenly the vf became the challenge. Remember, I'm the one who climbed 100' in the air on scaffolding to paint the Libby's WaterTower. I could certainly do this.

Getting in Harness

Via Ferrata means the iron route, a trail with fixed cables. It exsists to aid hikers when the mountain trail gets too narrow or disappears or you have to cross a canyon. The idea behind a vf is to allow people who are not experienced to climb mountains they wouldn't otherwise be able to climb. I learned that one must trust the integrity of the cable and the sturdiness of iron hook that attaches the cable to the rock. The correct way to do a vf is to attach your two carabiners to the cable, hold on to the cable with both hands, if you are lucky you have gloves, stretch out your arms while leaning your center section away from the mountain, press your feet against the vertical rock, don't look down, and travel carefully along sideways. When you reach a hook you unclip the carabiners, one at a time, moving each one around the hook. One carabiner is always attached to the cable for safety.

Holding on to Cable

We started out at 9am. We hiked on a steep, rocky mountain trail, arriving at the beginning of the vf section at 10:50. We climbed the vf until noon. It was easy at first, then there were the sketchier places. I followed the protocol, Franz was behind me for double protection and slowly we made our way along. On this hike there were several vf sections. There were also several iron ladders taking us up or down as spaces between boulders were too steep to climb. We crossed one ice field on which someone had laid an aluminum ladder to crawl on to get to the other side. A couple of times Franz applied his own manpower to push me up a big boulder. In the end it was exhilarating, beautiful and rewarding.

On the Mountain

At 12:15 we arrived soaked with perspiration and exhausted from the climb at the hut at which we had a typical Austrian lunch beginning with drinks. We learned the very satisfying taste of a Radler. This drink is for thirsty hikers who still need to get down the mountain. It is a one to one mixture of beer and carbonated white lemonade. Delicious. Lunch was equally satisfying beginning with Kaspressknödel, a soup with a very large cheese dumpling, and then a hearty turkey salad. Rested and sated we began the long hike down just as the clouds began to gather. We decided to take the fastest but steepest trail down since it was also the one that led to the hut that serves Kaiserschmarrn.

The Hut for Lunch

We moved along as quickly as possible under a darkening sky. The trails in both directions are made of large gravel and small and medium sized rocks and boulders. It was so slippery on the way down that there were wooden steps to hold the gravel in place. Our hiking poles saved us a few times. The final hut was in sight when it started thundering and raining. We stopped to put on our rain jackets and arrived at the "dessert" hut only slightly wet. It was jammed with hikers seeking refuge from the now pouring rain, but we managed to find seats and order Kaiserschmarrn.

Kaiserschmarrn

Here is Franz's story about the origin of the name Kaiserschmarrn. It seems the Emperor, Kaiser Franz Josef, was out in the country watching his troops on maneuvers. He got hungry and went looking for something to eat. He found a farmer's summer cottage. The farmer's wife had only flour, eggs, milk, sugar, raisins and cranberries. She made a thick pancake, turned it over, stirred it up, and served it to the delight of the Emperor. The farmer's wife thought the Emperor was crazy to love such a simple, messed up dish. That is how Kaiserschmarrn, which means the emperer's nonsense, got its name.

A View from the Top

Today was rounded out with another great dinner from Ingrid and two ibuprophen. Via Ferrata is now crossed off the bucket list but not off the radar for future. We hope to do it again next time we visit Ingrid & Franz in Ellmau.
Kathie, Harmony, and Nancy you would love this hike!

The Tyrolian Alps

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Culture and Connections

Big strides this week.
After these many months of being loners in Switzerland we seemed to have eased our way into acquaintancehood. I mentioned previously our 20 something friends. We had a lovely evening with them on Thursday at the Montreux Jazz Festival.

The Montreux festival has a main stage indoors. The tickets range from 88 chf for standing room to hundreds for a seat.The outdoor stage is free. So we missed Tony Bennett performing with his daughter and Bob Dylan among many others.


We sat outdoors on wooden risers and watched and heard a Swiss band with a Mozambique woman singer. She sang in her native language so for once we were not the only ones who didn't understand the words. It was a delicious contemporary African beat, and she told us in English that the theme of many of her songs was to gain respect for women. The area was packed with mostly but not exclusively young people.


We had such a good time that we decided to return two days later on Saturday afternoon, the last day of the festival. This time we heard the Philadelphia Jazz Orchestra. This was a large group of high school and college musicians who played all the classic jazz numbers. They were wonderful, especially the drummer and the lead trumpet. They had two women singers who were terrific. This group of young people were on a summer tour of Europe playing music in festivals in several countries. What they lacked in stage presence they made up in talent.


As at every summer festival there was everything to eat, even New York hot dogs. It was the least expensive meal we have had since arriving. I had paella and Steve had a spicy Thai curry dish. We tried Gaufre, the Swiss equivalent of a Belgian waffle. They are a bit doughier and heavier than waffles as we know them. They were sold in regular, cinnamon, Grand Marnier and chocolate flavors. A Swiss favorite. I thought it interesting when walking along the sales booths to discover that the drinking age for beer is 16 years old, for wine 18 years, and hard liquor 21 years. No one was checking age at the beer booths.


We had our first dinner party last night. Our young friends Jerome and Aline joined J & H at our house for dinner. I had to prepare some things in Jed's kitchen as my kitchen lacks the essential tools and pans. But it all worked out and since J &H speak French the evening went smoothely.
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Last weekend we were trudging our way slowly up the hill from J & H's house. We had had an exhausting day. It was just before dark and we were so tired that we were walking extra slowly. About one quarter up the hill a couple came up behind us and the monsieur offered (in English) to carry my bundles. We were taken by surprise but I said yes grateful for the help. They were going our way. Turns out they live almost directly below us.

Elizabeth and Jan, who are Swiss German, had lived in the US in Berkeley and in CO. They are very comfortable speaking English. We chatted outside for a while when we reached their street. Two days later they invited us for dinner. It was another lovely evening. It is nice to learn about other people's experiences. They are a little closer in age to us, probably from late 40s to early 50s. They love Lausanne and both travel worldwide for their work.

This week I also went to a meeting of the AIWC, American International Womens Club. It is for English speaking women of all nationalities. There are 35 nationalities represented in the Lausanne based club. Only 30% of the members are American. There were about 15 women in attendance, a small group I am told as most people are away for the summer months. I had a chance to chat with several women of varying accents. Most are in Switzerland because of the husband's work. In this small sampling of the group one woman I spoke with was from Vancouver. She came to Switzerland after college in the 60's and never returned to live again in Canada. She is a micro biologist and taught at the university here. She is now a naturalized citizen married to a Swiss man, and raised two daughters here.

Another woman whose company I enjoyed is an artist who was raised in East Africa. We talked for quite a while. It turns out her husband works for Starbucks. You might remember that Steve and I have rented a house in Portland from a man who works for Tazo Tea, owned by Starbucks. I asked and sure enough this woman knows our landlord-to-be. How could it be that I would meet a person in Switzerland who also knows the only person I know who works for Starbucks. It seems there is only one or two degrees of separation in this small world.

Which reminds me that we went to Starbucks headquarters in Lausanne last week to sign our lease. It is in a modest office building in an excellent location in the center of Lausanne. We were given a tour of the coffee tasting room. A sample of the beans for every cup of Starbucks coffee are roasted and sampled there. If the beans don't pass the test in that room they are not purchased. Tea is also tasted here. All coffee and tea sold at Starbucks world wide must be approved here in Lausanne.

Lausanne seems to have a school for every purpose. There are boarding schools, language schools, a business school that is a rival to Harvard Business, the most prestige hotel school in Europe, etc. There is also a school of ballet. The Maurice Béjart Ballet Lausanne was founded by Béjart in 1987. He had previously founded a school in Brussels as well as several other ballet schools in Europe. We attended a student exhibition of modern dance which was free to the public. The teacher was putting the young adult students through some very difficult exercises. It was beautiful to watch.

Tomorrow begins a bit of traveling. We are driving to Ellmau, Austria, near Munich, to visit friends from Berkeley days. We hope to do some hiking but so far the weather does not look promising. In any case we are looking forward to the visit. We are home for four days then flying to Gent, Belgium. J&H and boys will be there visiting Helga's parents. It will be a reunion for us as we have not seen them for several years. In mid August I am going to Birmingham, England to attend the largest quilt show in Europe. It is the equivalent of our show in Houston. I am meeting Annie Curran, Pat Owings' sister, who lives not far from there. I am very excited to see the new European trends in art quilts, and to see Annie.


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A Grandma Story

Wednesday I had the pleasure of accompanying my four year old grandson to the birthday party of a schoolmate. The kids finish school at 2 pm and the party was to begin at 3. We would have 45 minutes before we had to walk over to the house.

I was not familiar with the house but I knew the street. To increase my comfort level and be sure I got us there in time, before I picked up Tern I tried to find the exact house. I needed #16. Steve's bike store is #4 on that street so I had a starting point. Steve told me in which direction to walk from the bike shop.

Did I mention that I was born with a major flaw? I have no sense of direction. In fact, 99% of the time if I choose the way to go, it is the wrong way. I do not trust myself to get anywhere, except that I am good at reading maps which would not have helped in this situation. I hope to be one of the first people to have a compass embedded to help with this problem. But Wednesday I was on my own.

I walked a little, passing a pharmacy then coming to a bunch of nondescript apartment buildings with no numbers. So I thought perhaps I made an error and went back to the bike shop and beyond. No buildings in that directions. It was getting time to pick Tern up at school so I was about to give up when a man who looked local was passing by. Luckily he understood English. I told him I was looking for #16 on that street and he directed me back the way I went at first and assured me I would find it there.

I picked Tern up and we played in the schoolyard for a while. It was a very hot day and there was a big tree shading the area. It made for some nice one-on-one time. Then I decided we needed to get going if I was to find the party. Of course I did not tell Tern that I was almost clueless. I faked being a grandma-about-town. We continued to the street passing the bike shop and the pharmacy, tried to short cut around the shops which was a dead end, laughed that off with an oops, continued down the street, came to an alley where the nondescripts were and saw a sign with an arrow leading to #10, 12, 14, 16. Hallelujah!

As soon as we reached the correct building I found the fatal error in my plan. I had no idea what apartment Tern's friend lived in. I did not know the family name so the names on the mailboxes were no help. I did not know the Mom's name. I don't have a cell phone. There was no one to ask. I knew this was an ingenuity test.

I said to Tern (who I knew saw through me) that we were going to play a game in the dim hallway. We had to be very quiet and listen at each door. When we heard the sound of kids playing we would be at the party. We listened at the two doors on the first floor, nothing. We listened on the second floor, the first door was quiet, but I heard the right kind of sounds at the second door. I prayed I was right. I knocked and sure enough we were there. Tern happily ran off to play.

I thought I could relax now. My job was done. The 6 kids were then herded downstairs to the back garden which was on a lower level than the front door and around the back of the building. The Mom planned to be the only adult at the party. I elected to stay as I wanted to watch them play.

I explain this because the kids were playing in the yard with water toys on the grass and her son, the birthday boy, cut his foot on a blade of grass almost as soon as the party began. He was crying inconsolably and finally she had to take him upstairs for bandaging and his blankey. Meanwhile, if I had not decided to stay, there would have been no one to stay with the other 5 kids while she dealt with the crisis. This went on, as she brought only a small pitcher of water downstairs and it was a very hot day, so she had to go back upstairs a couple of times to refill the water.

I had a great time. The kids were wonderful and they got it that I did not speak their language. Tern translated when necessary. The one thing they all understood was that I could unwrap their lollipops. There were no serious casualties, and the party ended two hot, exhausting hours later.

Tern and I walked home hand in hand. He asked me if I knew the French word for crosswalk, which I did not, he told it to me, then told me that he was teaching me French and teaching his teachers English. We continued home learning vocabulary along the way.


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Visa Update

We returned to Switzerland on Wednesday afternoon. We went through our mail and were discouraged to find nothing about the visa. Thursday's mail was more exciting. There was an official letter from our town of Pully.

Okay, we thought, hold your breath, this is it. With great anticipation we read it only to find that Pully sent us a card allowing us to use the city recycle center. Nothing more. Big deal. Huge disappointment.

Friday's mail had another official looking letter. This time from the Service de la Population, Division Etrangers. Now we were really hopeful. It is a two page letter reviewing all the steps we have taken so far starting with our request of December 2011 in San Francisco to stay six months, and their denial as a tourist visa is limited to three months.

Then the letter, translated loosely by google, goes something like this:
As of April, you have taken a domicile and are living in Switzerland while seeking authorization to remain as pensioners. On this occasion you have produced diverse justifications of financial resources.

It continues:
In this connection, we inform you on the one hand a stay as a pensioner is defined in the law of 2005 as taking a permanent home in Switzerland and abandoning completely your previous home. The center of interest then is clearly placed en Suisse.
(This is not our case as we plan to return to the US.)

It continues:
On the other hand, a stay of the requirements for admission may be envisaged within the meaning of another law for our intended stay of less than a year.

Therefore, to enable us to decide in full knowledge of your case on request please send us the following documents:
Copy of your lease
New copy of our marriage certificate as the one submitted was not readable
Exact duration of your requested stay in Switzerland.
Failure to respond will mean that we cannot evaluate your case.

We have one month to reply and submit the documents which we have already submitted. We resubmit and wait. Perhaps it will take until October for them to make a decision and by then we will be ready to leave.

Today was Tern's birthday party. Despite being rained out at the park a great time was had by all seven children and seven adults in the apartment. The cake was a train cake of course. It was wonderful being here for the occasion.



Other news:
We ate the first of our balcony grown cherry tomatoes yesterday for our 45th wedding anniversary. We spent the morning at the gym working off the Irish pounds, then at the Euro version of Home Depot buying parts to make J&H a hanging pot rack. In the evening we had an unexpected visit from our old friend from Cypress Semiconductor days, Giuseppe, who was up here on business from Turino. We shared a glass of wine then went out to a Chinese restaurant with Jed & Helga joining us. It was a lovely day.


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Bogs and Brews

Clifden is a little dot of a town in Connemara. We stayed nearby, out of the town, down Sky Road at the Blue Dolphin Country House on the Altantic edge. Here it was hard to say whether there were more cows and sheep or B & B's but it could hardly be considered crowded. The land is treeless and windswept, quiet & serene.

Dolphin Beach Country House

Clodagh, our host, is one of many in her family running inns and restaurants in the area. She is gracious, lovely, and helpful. We took several walks in the neighborhood, going first down to the ocean bluff through the nearest sheep pasture, later doing the loop around Sky Road, upper and lower. The latter took us past a decommissioned coast guard building, many B&B's, and the Clifden Castle. We tried to visit the castle but the road to it was posted "private."

Connemara Coast

Clodagh explained that the castle is owned by the state but the land is owned by a farmer who does not want visitors. She did, however, explain how to see the castle bypassing the farmer by going through a cow pasture. The next day we started through the pasture until we saw a bull eyeing us suspiciously. We kept to the perimeter (barbed wire) as far as we could be away from him and his gentle female companions, and quietly, steathily we made it.

Clifden Castle

This castle was a winner. Built in 1819 by John Darcy to house his large family and "to bring civilization and culture to the wild people who lived there", the walls and decorative motifs were largely still in place. It was another beautiful wreck of a castle. The above mentioned farmer situation kept it from being a contender for us but we admired the taste and ambition of the builder.

Connemara is bog country. It contains the country's largest national park where we learned about the bogs, the history and the geology. A bog is a wetland covered by a thick mat of dead plant material. It's green with softly mounded tufts of grasses and squishy to walk on. The trees of the area were decimated by early inhabitants and then the bogs took over. Later inhabitants dug up the bogs removing the topsoil to two feet down, letting it dry out then using it as fuel and building material. At one time 80% of Connemara was bog land. Now that is down to less than 20%. The same with the forests. Both are now under state protection while there is an effort to save and replenish them.

In the Interesting Facts Category:
The twelve mountains in Connemara are called the Twelve Bens.
The two enormous maple trees in Front Square at Trinity College are from Oregon and said to be almost 200 years old.

More Interesting Town & River names:
Knock, Trim, Horseleap, the River Suck

Dublin was a long four hour ride from Connemara. We broke up the trip with a stop at an ancient archeological site, Brú Na Bóinne, a world heritage site and the largest and one of the most important prehistoric megalithic sites in Europe. It was a humbling experience to see what had been built by humans about 3500 B.C. Thesite predates the Egyptian Pyramids and was built with sophistication and a knowledge of science and astronomy, 5000 years ago!

Brú Na Bóinne with Trinity Spirals
Carved in Entrance Stone

Buried under a forest and uncovered by a farmer searching his land for large rocks, the site was well preserved. Today you are allowed to enter the underground burial tomb made of giant slabs of stone. It looks and feels like a giant beehive of huge stones. Our guide said it is the only waterproof building in Ireland. So what did those ancients know that we don't know? I think the site is a magnificent reminder that humans have always been capable of great things.

Outside Wall of Bru Na Boinne

Dublin is THE city. There are all the usual cultural sights with an emphasis on the more recent history, colonization by GB, and the push for unification and self rule. On a lighter note, the tour of the Guiness Brewery (we tipped a pint to all our friends out there) balanced well with the tour of Trinity College which was established by Elizabeth I. The Book of Kells is housed in the Trinity library, and the Long Room, the longest library room in Ireland, is still the original three story, barrel vaulted ceiling beauty. It contains over 200,000 of the oldest books in Ireland and is a copyright library so it owns and receives a copy of every book published in Ireland and England. It is a beautiful space which smells of old books and looks like a book cathedral.

Steve at Guiness

Summer came to Dublin, finally, but not until our last day in Ireland. Except for two full and two partial days of sun during our two weeks, Ireland was as rainy and cool as TSR in winter. The last day in Dublin the sun came out and the temperature rose from the low 50s to the mid 70s. Suddenly the scarves were gone, the short shorts were in fashion and the people were enjoying the lovely city park, eating at sidewalk cafes, and generally hanging out.

Food was among the many things to enjoy on the Island, with a host of great contemporary restaurants flourishing. We ate perhaps too well. We managed to stay up late enough to find our way to a great pub to enjoy a group of locals riffing on Irish music. Seventeen unaffiliated people with fiddles, flutes and a tiny Irish accordian made our hearts sing. The people are very respectful and proud of their heritage.

Ireland is a fine place to visit, fine people, beautiful countryside, intricate history, great food, and wonderful music. Below are some photos of larger than life posters seen on the outside walls of buildings in an alley called the Icon Alley in Dublin. Do you know these people?

County Kerry to County Clare or Dingle to the Burren

We knew it would be rainy in Ireland and were prepared with waterproof shoes, pants and jackets. The rain did not discourage our explorations but when we arrived on the Dingle peninsula we were ready for some real exercise. A bike ride seemed the perfect thing for this landscape but not in the rain. Imagine our happiness when we woke up the following morning to the ONLY non rainy day day we have had in 10 days. In fact, it was bright and sunny. It was a wee bit o' Kaplan luck and great timing.




The Dingle Peninsula is a bright green, soft looking landscape with many farms terraced in the hillside separated by stone fences. Grazing cattle and sheep, ruins of ancient stone dwellings, including beehive houses, and stunning sea views made great photo ops along the route. It was mostly gentle rolling hills from the ocean to rounded mountains for 25 miles, enough to feel the biking mojo return in full, enough to feel entitled to a stop at Murphy's ice cream after the ride to savor the local flavors.








County Clare was next. If rocks and stones were worth their weight in gold Ireland would be a rich country indeed. County Clare is all hard surface. Stones everywhere, fences, ancient burial monuments, houses, ring forts, and the land itself is stone. Picture a field that is 75% rocks and boulders and 25% green grass, everywhere. It's beautiful and forbidding. One can only imagine the effort and energy it took humans to move the stones and build the structures.




The limestone is layered and terraced to into mountains. There is no farming here and even grazing animals need to be clever to find food. The land area called the Burren was created by the sea, the rain, and the glaciers which dragged boulders along and deposited them as they started retreating. Eons of time, weather and water created the Cliffs of Moher, Ireland's defining western face. Underground is a network of caves carved as the rain water seeped into the cracks of the limestone land. The Burren is evidence that Ireland began life as a tropical sea. There are fossils of sea creatures, as well as arctic, alpine and tropical flowers. Shifting land masses and changing climate periods have laid down a unique landscape.








Having done Dingle then the Burren, it is difficult to tell which is the more beautiful. Dingle, in County Kerry, is like undulating green velvet, rising to mountains, falling to the sea. Just north in County Claire, the Burren is rough and hard. I love them both.

Irish Whiskey, Irishisms, and Other Randon Observations

Would a grand tour of Ireland be possible without a stop at the Jameson Distillery in Midleton? Steve decided not possible. The tradition began in 1780 with John Jameson who worked out that triple distillation makes his spirit unique and smooth. The hour tour explained how the Jameson whiskey is made with barley, hops and water and nothing else. A "secret" ingredient might be that the whiskey is aged in oak barrels previously having held port, sherry, or bourbon.


The highlight of the tour was the tasting at the end. Steve was chosen as one of the lucky 8 to taste the difference between Jameson, Scotch whiskey, and American Jack Daniels. Of course, the Jameson won. I was a little nervous about Steve's left side of the road driving after the generous tasting, but I stayed alert and he muscled through to our next stop in Kinsale.

It seems that Ireland today survives to a great extent on tourism, which is heavily American. From our day tours it seems that Americans make up at least 80% of the tourists, Irish, French and German, and eastern Europeans the rest.

Kinsale is an old fishing town that in 1601 was the site of a major battle which lost the Irish control of their homeland. Charles Fort, an unusual star shaped stone fort built in 1670's is situated on a hill above the town.

Several questions occurred to me while walking around town and seeing the signs above the many pubs and shops. Why are there so many surnames in Ireland that begin with the letter "O"? The answer to that dates back to olden times when the population was so small and people were not mobile. At that time people were known by first names only. When the population grew, surnames were added based on the trade or occupation of a person. Later, a "Mac" was added to a surname and meant "son of" as in MacDougal. Later, the "O" was added and meant grandson of whomever as in O'Kelly. Now it seems that almost everyone is someone's grandson.

Irish Road Signs:
Traffic calming = slow traffic ahead
Severe bends ahead = sharp curves in the road ahead

Irish village and town names:
Inch, Quilty, Dingle, Cong

Do you know. . .
how potholes got their name?
In the old days when clay got scarce the potters used to dig clay out of the road beds to make their pots, leaving large holes for the wagons. Learned in Waterford.

the original meaning of the phrase "losing face"?
In Victorian days ladies' makeup was made of wax. When they cozied up to the fireplace after a lovely dinner in a cold mansion the heat would cause the makeup to melt. To alleviate this problem wsmall individual painted Chinese screens were used to protect their faces while their toes, etc. stayed warm and no one "lost face". Learned in Killarny.

Found another lovely mansion, Muckross House, in Killarny, County Kerry. It seems some others Americans found it first in 1922 and bought it as a wedding gift for their daughter, Maud. These Americans were the owners of Filoli Gardens (near Hillsborough) in the bay area. The house and gardens are in fine condition held by the OPW so we were too late for this treasure. Still looking. . .