Seabourn – Page 2 – Don't Gel Too Soon

Really Pretty Piece of History: Fortifications and Flowers

It was all about the fortifications back then. This lovely walkway in Fort Grimaud has existed for centuries. It’s part of the walled village of Fort Grimaud about half an hour outside St. Tropez.

No major earthshaking moments today but still lovely and intriguing, reinforcing the reality that being safe, enclosed and protected – keeping marauders or warriors or other bad guys at bay – that was the bottom line.

As we made our way back to the ship, the Romany (gypsies to many) were out in force – this is just one of the parking lots we passed – jammed with their trailers, laundry trailers, cooking trailers and more. Our guide kept telling us how everyone had to “watch their wallets.” These folks have a pretty bad reputation across Europe as pickpockets and other mischief makers.

Fort Grimaud also recalled this: s in the rest of Europe, the World Wars are central to the soul of so many still – all these years later. These two – a monument to those in this small town who died in World War I and a 1940 declaration of peril from French General Charles de Gaulle in 1940 ,the year war once again descended on his country. London to Lithuania to France – these wars haunt memory and remind residents of fear, and death, and loss.

Then there are these — we were the first customers for Lorenzo and Gerard in their new shop – gorgeous earrings for me! AND then lunch with some new friends and the best salad (with extra summer tomatoes) ever…..

How Pizza Margharita Got It’s Name PLUS Enchanting Dolceacqua

That’s the Castello at Dolceacqua, alongside Claude Monet’s wonderful portrayal of it. It stands at the start of the stone pathway that crosses the bridge and leads into this ancient, wonderful beehive where, since the 13th, 14th and 15th centuries people have lived, shopped and tolerated the tourists.

It’s a quiet, special treasure, a bit mysterious, mixing the distant past with today, and far more fun and exciting for us because we hadn’t expected much at all from this trip designed to get us out of the shopping center that is San Remo.

NOW – about that Pizza Margharita. Our wonderful guide, Giusiana, as we passed a statue of “Regina Margharita” added yet another factor to her wonderful narrative. WHAT is the reason the much beloved Pizza Margharita bears her name? A baker created it in the colors of the Italian flag: tomato sauce for red, basil for green and mozzarella for white — and dedicated it to her in thanks for her just and creative role as the first woman ruler of Italy.

And there you have it – another brief, photo-heavy offering. It’s late again – and it was a wonderful day. I am reminded every day as we move from place to place of the value of travel – learning the narratives and dreams and history of other cultures and finding within them lessons for our own.

Done with Bonaparte: Portoferraio, Mark Knopfler and Napoleon

This little fountain sits behind Napoleon’s “summer residence” in Elba, where he was exiled in disgrace after a horrific defeat — one Mark Knopfler described in his beautiful Done With Bonaparte. Napoleon never lived here; this house outside Portoferraio Italy was not his home but was to be a summer retreat. He fled Elba before he ever spent a night there.

The small island also includes several other beach towns with lovely harbors. There are also some lovely – and some weird, — sights. I’ve added a few below.

Right now it’s really late; I’ve shared some of Knopfler’s lyrics from his meditation on the suffering of Napoleon’s soldiers in the defeat that cost their leader his command and position, and cost them far more:

We’ve paid in hell since Moscow burned

As Cossacks tear us piece by piece

Our dead are strewn a hundred leagues

Though death would be a sweet release
And our grande army is dressed in rags

A frozen starving beggar band
Like rats we steal each other’s scraps

Fall to fighting hand to hand

Save my soul from evil, Lord
And heal this soldier’s heart
I’ll trust in thee to keep me, Lord
I’m done with Bonaparte

I pray for her who prays for me
A safe return to my belle France
We prayed these wars would end all wars
In war we know is no romance
And I pray our child will never see
A little Corporal again
Point toward a foreign shore
Captivate the hearts of men

Save my soul from evil, Lord
And heal this soldier’s heart
I’ll trust in thee to keep me, Lord
I’m done with Bonaparte

2015-06-11 10.25.40 — Everybody needs a Mussolini apron – buy one just outside Napoleon’s summer house!

2015-06-11 10.09.26 — Old Portoferraio in oil

2015-06-11 11.18.43 — The harbor in Porto Azzuro

Grazie Roma

Two very full days in Rome, jet lagged but determined. The Coliseum and the Forum captured our imagination in new ways as we learned more about the lives of early Romans, their gladiators and their rulers. Jewish slaves helped to build the deadly theater. The famous Arco di Tito – Arch of Titus – bears images of a menorah because along with those Jewish slaves, captured at the fall of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, the conquering Romans brought treasure, including Jewish artifacts, and chose to represent them on Titus’ arch.

We did so much more but our first night on the Sojourn is almost upon us and we need to be up early to see Napoleon’s summer home. Here are a few more pix of Rome.

OH and Grazie Roma? It’s the best sports anthem ever, and the TODAY SHOW’s 1985 Rome week closed with Antonelo Venditti singing it, along with huge crowd of happy Rome residents, as we all celebrated on the Spanish Steps.

Hail and Farewell: Leaving Camp Seabourn

They all marched down the center aisle of the salon to echoes of No Day but Today, the lovely song from Rent . They’re all young, and from more than 30 countries: engineers and stewards, restaurant staff and destination coordinators, Captain and cruise director, performers and crew.

It was the last night of the trip and we’d just left Petersburg, one of the world’s loveliest cities.

The drama of its grim history, combined with its beauty, left all of us with full hearts. The emotion and the fact that in the morning our floating dormitory would deposit us and all our worldly goods in Stockholm and end the magic journey left us vulnerable. Watching these young people, who had been so deeply involved in our lives, slammed us up and over the top, leaving nearly 300 of us moved and weepy.

For a bunch of worldly travelers, who’ among us had been everywhere from Antarctica to Burma to Saigon, we were pretty sappy. The staff would welcome new cruisers hours after we left, but this artful end to a perfect trip, so much like the last day of camp, really, was sentimental and perfect.

Living with History: Ghosts of WWII Still Haunt Europe

Outside the shipyard where Solidarity was born

There’s Europe, and then there’s Europe. Before St. Petersburg, we visited Gdansk, Poland and Klaipeda, Lithuania, each with a great (and strategically valuable) coastline and harbor. Along with those very desirable traits came a dark, terrible, history of invasion and occupation, Nazis and Communists and pre-Nazi Germans in the 20th Century alone. Listen to the guides and it sounds as if the last of them left only last week, the memories are so fresh. Each city was all but obliterated after the War, first by the Nazis as they fled and then by the victorious Russians who declared the residents “Nazis” and burned much of what hadn’t been bombed.

In Gdansk, along with the Jews, many Poles, including 3,000 priests, died in concentration camps. This statue of Jesus mourning the 3,000 priests murdered in Auschwitz is from the gorgeous Gdansk St. Mary’s Church was placed there in their honor. A visit to this city is a rapid education in the continued immediacy of the devastation and misery of the War and the Soviet occupation that followed. It isn’t history, it’s family.

Veterans of Siberian exile sing songs of their country
In Lithuania they work to preserve memories of forced exile to Siberia and Soviet abuse through an ever-shrinking choir of village elders, many of them survivors of the Siberian deportations, on the lawn of a one-room museum that combines these memories with a commemoration of WWII partisans.

While there is little argument about the roles that Poland and Lithuania had in the Holocaust, I’m offering these examples to demonstrate the immediacy of the War that remains among the communities even today. Wherever we’ve gone in these places, or in Helsingborg Sweden entire tours are constructed around these memories.

It was quite a shock to meet the ghosts that still haunt these old cities. Gdansk is charming, and of course visiting the scene where Solidarity was born was wonderful. What really left with us though, was the enduring impact of a war that ended long before many of those affected were even born.

Petersburg and the End of the Road

This is the Petersburg (we World Travelers have learned NOT to say “Saint Petersburg”) monument to the heroes of the World War II siege of Leningrad. For nine hundred days, the city was surrounded by Nazis. Many were evacuated before then, but those who remained lived in cold, fear, and near, sometimes overpowering, starvation. What they suffered was unimaginable.

The 872 days of the siege caused unparalleled famine in the Leningrad region through disruption of utilities, water, energy and food supplies. This resulted in the deaths of up to 1,500,000 soldiers and civilians and the evacuation of 1,400,000 more, mainly women and children, many of whom died during evacuation due to starvation and bombardment. (Wikipedia)

It is this story that the monument is designed to honor. Unlike so much Soviet art, the statues are human and lean – no giant muscles and super-strong Soviet Realism here. The glory went to the suffering instead. The museum itself is underground, below the wall where these statue stand,.

It holds with panel after panel of the names of those who died, somewhat reminiscent of Yad Vashem. There are relics of very human moments and a film that’s almost too hard to watch.

Even so, the day we were there, like every other weekday, groups of school kids, many quite young, came with their teachers to hear the story. Russians are very proud of the courage and strength demonstrated in those days, and determined to pass the story on.

We in the West have always been so preoccupied with the European Front, with the dramas of Normandy and the Resistance, that the other two fronts, in Russia and the Pacific, have gotten far less attention.

Besides, the Iron Curtain that surrounded Russia for so long made outside praise for or even commemoration of the Russian sacrifices less likely. It’s impossible to come here, though, and not be stunned by the reality of what happened.

The drama of the memorial is intense, but there are small memories too.

We visited one of the pillbox defense structures that held the final line around the city. It is being refitted to be an exhibit and hadn’t been open in a very long time. We were fortunate enough to be there when the workmen were cleaning out old trash and dirt, and able to go inside.

It eerie to imagine people, desperate with hunger, waiting in there in shifts to prevent the conquest of the city.

That’s just part of what was a remarkable day that ended in the Hermitage. Gorgeous and thrilling, but a little like too much gooey candy all in one place. It was tough to absorb, especially after the grim realities of the siege.

The beauties of Catherine’s Palace and the Synagogue and museums and churches and cathedrals will appear soon. For now, this sober and very moving set of memories will stand alone.

Life and Death on the Coast of France REDUX

It doesn’t look at all real – I know that. But it is. It’s also a place I’ve wanted to see for as long as I can remember. And here we are. Here we are! The sweet, formidable beauty of this place is matched only by its astonishing history – as a monastery, a prison and a target, from ancient times to the carnage and suffering of D-Day.

Mt-Saint-Michel has, for more than a thousand years, stood atop the rock upon which is was built. Its timelessness is much of what attracts people, I suspect, along with its ice-castle beauty and the awesome commitment of its inhabitants: the sacrifices made by these men on the mountain top, alone, virtually silent, with nothing to do but pray and take on their assigned chores, meditate and live out their lives in as holy a way as possible

SMEglise ike diorama crop — Ike sends US troops off to the D-Day invasion of Europe that helped win WWII.

Nearby, the small town of Saint-Mère-Élgise and its museum await the summer celebration of the 70th anniversary of D-Day and its remarkable exercise in vision, courage and grit. This diorama of General Eisenhower’s last visit with the men he was sending to fight and die is a moving one. Anyone who has ever seen his 1968 conversation with Walter Cronkite knows how well the General understood that half of those he sent out on D-Day would never return.

SMglise resistance — Resistance Armbands

SMeglise death book crop — Prayers to say if death is near; provided by the military

One group of special heroes and heroines represented at the museum were the Resistance – women and men who parachuted behind enemy lines, worked with local opponents of the Reich to complicate their war and, at great personal risk. transmitted by hidden radios everything they learned about their German enemy.

Aside from their real-life-spying, they also served in special, high-risk, low profile operations, commemorated in history, in films and in novels. I often used the Resistance stories and the children running messages and doing other support work as a way to engage our sons in history when we traveled. The drama and courage, and relevance, was and still is irresistible.

What you see here another of the profoundly moving exhibit items at the museum. Look carefully; it’s a page of prayers to support young soldiers dying in the field. Breathtaking as you stand among the photos of these young men and see how wise it was to offer them this comfort, and wonder if today’s military is inclined, or allowed for that matter, to provide similar comfort.

In all, the life of the monastery and loss that surrounds the beaches of Normandy really are bookends to how we live our lives. Life and faith, war and peace, courage, sacrifice, defeat and victory. It is the greatest gift of travel when these things present themselves and we remember how fragile, and how wondrous, the privilege of being alive and aware really is.

NOTE: This post was first published on May 8th, the day we made this trip. But today, on the anniversary of D-Day, it seemed right to offer it once again.

The Statue and the Synagogue

This is what the women saw. There are few sanctuaries more beautiful and moving than this 1675 Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue in Amsterdam, and here the women, while separated, were still able to share its beauty. In fact, in many ways, they saw more.

The service, certainly, but also the outside world for which they prayed. It was a hike to get there, of course, but the dignity and faith that infuses the place was more available to them than in many other observant synagogues. It’s difficult to describe the peace and beauty of this place, even with a photo. Or two. The black and white one is a wedding photo taken in the synagogue.

So where you ask is the statue? Well, he’s right here. Baruch Spinoza, whose ideas wreaked havoc in religious communities of Europe. Here’s what Wikipedia says:

Philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel said of all contemporary philosophers, “You are either a Spinozist or not a philosopher at all.”^[8]

Spinoza’s given name in different languages is Hebrew: ברוך שפינוזה‎ Baruch Spinoza, Portuguese: Benedito or Bento de Espinosa and Latin: Benedictus de Spinoza; in all these languages, the given name means “the Blessed”. Spinoza was raised in the Portuguese Jewish community in Amsterdam. He developed highly controversial ideas regarding the authenticity of the Hebrew Bible and the nature of the Divine. The Jewish religious authorities issued a cherem (Hebrew: חרם, a kind of ban, shunning, ostracism, expulsion, or excommunication) against him, effectively excluding him from Jewish society at age 23. His books were also later put on the Catholic Church’s Index of Forbidden Books.

A powerful figure in Jewish history and history in general, he stands just steps from the Synagogue, there – and not there; a compelling figure of faith — and doubt.

We are currently sailing through the Kiel Canal, an engineering feat that cut northern Europe in half and created a pathway that reduced isolation for many. Tonight we stop in Helsingborg, Sweden and Friday night, in Copenhagen.

Rainy Rouen

Carousel in the rain outside Notre Dame Cathedral, Rouen

This sweet carousel was deserted; buckets of rain would have discouraged even the most determined child. It sits outside the Rouen version of a Notre Dame cathedral. This one contains, we hear, the heart of Richard the Lionhearted, and is beautiful but not off the charts compared to some others we’ve seen.

Rouen was a surprise; lovely in a modest sort of way – even the H&M and Printemps stores were little. The history is profound however, for it was here that Joan of Arc was burned at the stake.

We have spent a lot of time on this trip with people with strong Catholic faith. Visiting cathedrals and shrines with them has really illuminated the meaning and depth of emotion they communicate. It’s been very moving.

The rest of the day we sailed down the Seine and out into the sea enroute to the Schelde River and Antwerp.

It was stormy and the ship bounced around a bit. Now we’re almost there and the River is calm and wide, giving us time to process all we’ve seen. Half of us leave the cruise in Amsterdam on Monday so we’re also preparing goodbyes to people we’ve come admire and care about. Yet another gift of life on the road (or water, really)