We recognize Carthage and Sidi Bou Said, but everything is so much more built up.
Saint Louis Cathedral up on the hill, we remember. Oh wow, Wikipedia tells me it is no longer a cathedral: Since 1993, the cathedral has been known as the “Acropolium”. It is no longer used for worship, but instead hosts public events or concerts of Tunisian music and classical music. Currently, the only Roman Catholic cathedral operating in Tunisia is the Cathedral of St. Vincent de Paul in Tunis.[1] Hunh. Acropolium.
We had exactly the day we needed in Tunis, thanks to this fine man, Noureddine Boukari. We found him through Tours by Locals, and he corresponded with us to determine exactly what we wanted to see and experience in our precious few hours in Tunis.
He was there to pick us up as we exited the boat. He took us directly downtown, along Habib Bourgiba to the Central Market and the souks as they were opening. It was a great beginning; the Central Market hasn’t changed much in forty years; people can still find the freshest fish and local vegetables as they do their daily shopping.
LOL this thrilled my heart!
This was so much fun for me – probably because as a young wife, shopping for food was challenging at first – buying by weight in the markets, always carrying our own bags to put our vegetables in. I have so many hilarious stories, mostly because I was so ignorant, and had to learn new ways.
Noureddine introduced us to friends who were shopkeepers, and they had a great time talking with AdventureMan.
As I type this up, I hear the words in French and Arabic for eggs, parsley, pumpkins – it comes roaring back, words I haven’t used in a while.
And we head for the souks, which are just opening. The whole medina area is SO clean now!
The Hotel Royal Victoria on the right used to be the British Embassy a long time ago, right at the main entry to the souks.
I didn’t do a lot of shopping on this trip, but I found in these souks a beautiful silk scarf hand woven in Mahdia for my daughter-in-law and a huge red sefsari in the old pattern for the woman who stays in our house and cares for the cats while we are gone, and who, like me, loves textiles.
These date pastries/cookies are so delicious. Noureddine is taking a box to his family.
Our chariot awaits. We drive around Tunis and arrive at the Bardo just as all the tour groups are leaving. Noureddine leads us through the centuries of mosaics. The Bardo is more beautiful and more organized than it was all those years ago.
The Bardo itself is a former palace. Now it holds priceless mosaics taken from ruins of houses built throughout Tunisian history (Tunis, Carthage, Dougga, Kairoan, Djerba – it is impressive.)
The imagination and the execution of the work is exquisite.
Below is an intricate ceiling.
View of Tunis from the Bardo Palace.
A treasure discovered with hundreds of gold coins and one silver coin (at the bottom).
Ancient Punic Gods. Some are really hideous.
This is the house where once we lived, but not in this house, in the house that used to be there. I am glad Noureddine found the address, but it is not the house where we lived. But it IS on the way to Carthage and Sidi Bou Said, and to a delightful lunch of bric, and couscous.
Brik!
Fresh fish, which Noureddine skilfully deboned for us.
Vegetable couscous. I’ve never tasted carrots as delicious as those grown in Tunisia.
We have a lovely walk around Sidi Bou Said before heading back to the ship.
On return to the Viking Saturn, as instructed, we had our shore passes out and ready to give to the official collecting them. But there was no official collecting them! No one was collecting them! We still have them! Just in case.
The sun is setting over Tunis.
As we sail away, a flock of gulls trail us, hoping for a hand out!
Just in case you are, like me a map person, this is a general idea of the route we took today:
Viking Saturn arrives in Civitavecchia, not Rome. It’s a couple hours plus to Rome.
OK, real world stuff here, I am about to do what we call a First World Whine. Meaning in the larger scheme of things, we know how very lucky we are to be able to do these trips. And we are having a ball. And – I think I may be getting old. It feels like there are not quite enough hours in the day. Not to see all we want to see, or to understand all that we see, or take notes on what we see so I can make sense when I share these trips with you.
So today we are “in” Rome, but we are docked in Civitavecchia, a port about two hours drive from Rome. We signed on to a sort of Rome on Your Own kind of thing because we have never been to Rome before, we know what we want to see and do, and we want to do it at our own speed. We’ve signed up for the earliest trip into Rome, and we plan from there to catch a shuttle to the Coliseum, because, well, you go to Rome and see the Coliseum and the Trevi Fountain.
This won’t even be a “day” in Rome, this will be like five hours in Rome, and I am trying not to feel the pressure. Whatever time I have, I want to experience Rome, I want to feel Rome but oh, the pressure is mounting. Aargh.
Our guide is delightful. She hands us a map, and she hands us a card, and tells us where we will need to br to catch the bus for the ride back to the ship. This is the card for the tour company:
Civitavecchia is a pretty cool old city on its own. If I ever have a chance to spend four or five days really seeing Rome, then I would choose the next time I landed in Civitavecchia to just visit Civitavecchia. It’s full of old structures, and it’s been featured in several Dan Brown-type novels where the characters travel impossible distances in impossible times and solve ancient mysteries with intuitive leaps.
So Plaza de Popolo; our first stop so we can catch the shuttle to the Coliseum; we will finish up here at the end of our few hours.
Love Viking signage!
It’s early. And there are already hundreds of people. We take the requisite selfies and skedaddle.
Check!
It’s supposed to be cold in the morning, maybe a little rain, and warm in the afternon. We carry go-bags with the minimum to meet all the requirements, plus water and something chocolate in case of emergencies.
We have several things we want to see – AdventureMan has found the Pantheon on our map, and the place our guide recommended for a lunch were the Romans might eat, and the Trevi fountain, and between the Coliseum and Plaza de Popolo we can see those, and whatever else we see. We just want to soak in a little flavor of Rome, and we can do that by walking, and hitting some of the back streets and lesser-known sights.
Actually, once we shoot those photos with the Coliseum, we start having a good time. There is really nothing we HAVE to do except be at the meeting place at 3:15.
Now comes another small adventure, and another wonderful hairdresser story. We can see the restaurant we want to go to on the map, but no matter how we try, we can’t seem to get there. AdventureMan sees a hair salon, and pops his head in to ask for help. A guy sitting there asks what he is looking for and when AdventureMan tells him the name of the restaurant, he gets a big smile on his face and says “My friend works there! I will take you there!”
AdventureMan had thought he was a customer, but no, he was a hairdresser and was relaxing between customers. He was a very nice man; we talked as we walked to the restaurant, and when we got there, he found his friend, introduced us and told him to take good care of us, that we were his friends.
We loved the place. And we loved the food. And we loved the nice young man who took such good care of us. He looked at me and said “I know you are American, but I think you family is from here.” I said no, we were mostly Swedish, and he laughed and said “You look like you are from here.” And he approved of everything we ordered, and brought us good wine.
These were roasted artichokes, Jewish style, and you could eat the whole thing, even the stem. SO delicious!
I love this baker in the background, with his load of bread, phoning someone to say he is here.
We find the Trevi Fountain, under construction, OK, check. LOL.
We found the river, and walking alongside it was so relatively serene.
AdventureMan has a philosophy that if it isn’t forbidden, it is permitted. He loved this driver’s panache.
We have fifteen minutes before meetup, back at Plaza de Popolo. We’ve had a great day. We grab a couple espressos at a cafe so we can use the restroom before the drive back. AdventureMan discovers he actually likes espresso and says it is a lot like Turkish coffee.
The Christmas markets are just starting to set up, but are not open yet.
My FitBit is confused by the time change; keeps track of steps but not hourly requirement.
Screenshot
This is so frustrating. Back on board, we attend a lecture by Professor David Kohl. It is speculative and also entertaining, but I wish I had heard the lecture BEFORE the Rome visit as he mentions two of the oldest churches in Rome that I would have loved to see.
So the sun is setting over Civitavecchia and we are getting ready once again to sail away.
Fresh from our nap and not sure where we want to eat, we head out to accomplish a small errand. I have discovered I have lost my hairbrush. This is an emergency. Brushing hair is a must do! AdventureMan is sure I have misplaced it, so I look again, and it is nowhere to be found. But how hard can it be to buy a hairbrush?
Harder than we thought. We pop into a couple grocery stores, where they have everything, everything except hair brushes. We head into the side streets, where I find a hair salon and go in to buy a hairbrush. This turned into a real comedy. They couldn’t understand me, so I spoke French, and they got the brush part they were very concerned. I finally figured out they had no appointments for me, they thought I wanted my hair brushed. I kept trying to explain. AdventureMan left to see if he could find anything, but came back and we were still trying to figure it out. Finally, they understood I wanted to buy a brush, but they didn’t have any for sale. They were so kind, and by the time we finished, the entire shop was engaged in trying to help me.
“China! China” and they pointed to the right, and then to the left. “China!”
We never found the China shop, but AdventureMan found a Pakastini shop that carried a little of everything and spoke Arabic; he just reached behind him, pulled out a brush and it was great. First problem solved.
Now, where to eat? We are not out on the main street, but these back streets are intriguing. Like this is where real people are living, buying groceries (and hairbrushes) and there are restaurants, not fancy, but we walk until AdventureMan finds one he wants to try.
We go in and find a table and ask for menus, and a table of guys drinking next to us starts raising a ruckus and looking at us. It’s hard to be a stranger.
The manager or bartender admonishes them lightly and takes our order.
I am thinking it might not be the right time to be eating, maybe it is only time for drinking and maybe little tapas until dinner time, which in Spain is a lot later. But we order, and everything seems OK.
AdventureMan orders a Fisherman’s Soup, and I order a different kind of soup, and we share a plate of grilled peppers. The soups are some of the best food we had on the trip.
I ended up with a soup that was white beans and some kind of pork, hammy pork, and vegetables. The broth was flavorful, probably had more salt than we normally use, so it was delicious. AdventureMan’s soup took the prize, though. Full of fish and shellfish, with a broth that could almost stand up, it was so strong.
If we hadn’t gone off the main road looking for a hairbrush, we would never have ended up in this little neighborhood pub place with its delicious soups!
It’s a risk. We went against conventional wisdom. The streets were darker, and smaller, and might not have been so safe – Barcelona IS a big city. The walk back to the hotel was a little bit scary, but nothing happened, and we had a small adventure and a really good local meal. As we passed the hair salon, they were still open, so I waved my hairbrush in victory, and the hairdresser came out and hugged me in joy and said something (I have no idea what,) but she was joyful with me. I call that a great adventure.
Traveling with Viking passengers is to see ourselves in others. After a good nights sleep, we are up at dawn to have breakfast before our guide, James will arrive to pick us up at 8:15 to get us to Monserrat and in to see the Black Virgin before the crowds.
Too late. When we get to the restaurant, there is already a line of Viking early-birds in front of us. Fortunately, it is a large restaurant, and we all get seated quickly. The buffet breakfast is lovely, all kinds of cereals, breads and condiments, fresh egg dishes, lots of breakfast meats. It seems to be there is something to make everyone happy.
The restaurant is on the top floor and has views to die for in every direction. I’ve been trying to get to the roof deck and pool, but it seems it can only be accessed through the restaurant, and only during certain times. I kept trying. I never made it. It may be because it is mid-November and most people aren’t looking for a pool.
We booked with Autos Driver through Viator. Our driver and guide, James, showed up promptly at 8:10 (we were ready) in a suit with a slick shiny new Mercedes. We were impressed. He explained what we were seeing as we exited Barcelona to head for the serrated mountains (the meaning of the name Monserrat), and made it all relatable by putting it all in context. We really liked James. The statue below is in the industrial area.
Looking back toward Barcelona and the sun rising through the haze.
You can see why it is called “serrated mountains.”
We stopped for a stretch break at Santa Cecilia, a former nunnery, now an event venue.
On the left is James, who made this day so special for us, telling us the inside stories of Barcelona.
Our first view of Monserrat is of St. Michael’s Cross:
Tickets have to be reserved, and are for certain times only. James was looking out for us, contacted us ahead of time, picked up the tickets and had us to the line with plenty of time. He showed us where to meet with him after the tour of the Church and the Black Virgin.
It’s November. We had thought it would not be too crowded early in the morning, but it was full of Japanese tour groups, mostly school groups. We wedged between two groups as we waited to see the Black Virgin.
At last, one at a time, we are allowed about 10 seconds with the Black Virgin. The legend is that this Madonna and Child was carved in the earliest days of Christianity. Said to have been moved to Monserrat (home to the Goddess Venus) in the 700s to avoid Moorish explorers, she was found underground and was to be transported to some church but was not able to be moved, so they built a monastery around her.
You can see an orb in the Virgin’s hand. One at a time each Japanese school girl put both hands on the orb and looked solemn while one of the teachers (?) chaperones (?) guides (?) took a photo of her.
We had enough time to walk part way to Saint Michael’s Cross:
AdventureMan wanted to have some good cheese to have on board so we could have wine and cheese before dinner, and he found a really good one! We enjoyed this cheese so much, dry, nutty, salty, kind of grainy, and delicious!
We met up with James, had a great drive back to Barcelona as he answered all our questions, we talked ecology, climate change, cultural differences and economics. We talked about the impact of COVID-19 on our countries and social practices. Before he let us out in downtown Barcelona, he gave us directions to the oldest chocolate shop in Barcelona, not far off Las Ramblas, but far enough that not a lot of tourists get there.
Love these old signs on Las Ramblas.
Last time we were in Barcelona, we had grabbed empanadas at the Boqueria, along with fruit drinks, and AdventureMan wanted a particular spicy beef empanada we had the last time. We darted up and down the aisles until we found the exact shop, and both bought spicy beef enpanadas, and fruit drinks, then found a place to sit at the little plaza behine the Boqueria to eat in peace, except for the pigeons.
We ate lightly so that we could have hot chocolate at the oldest chocolate shop in Barcelona, very close to the Boqueria. The name is La Granja, and it is a couple streets behind La Rambla and the Boqueria.
It was delicious and fun. When we got there, they wanted to make sure we knew they were closing for the mid-day break. We assured them we only wanted chocolate, and creme brulee, and they welcomed us. We loved the place, with customers coming in for cut meats and other kinds of delicacies, we don’t really know what because we don’t speak Spanish except for a few words. It didn’t matter. The chocolate was thick and smooth and like eating a little bit of heaven, if heaven to you is chocolate, thick dark chocolate, as it is to me. The creme brulee’ is to be tapped with the spoon to break the crust before you eat.
On a total sugar high, we head out to find the metro and head back to the hotel for a nap. The metro takes us half a block from our hotel – why don’t all cities have great public transportation like Paris and Barcelona?
Everything had gone so smoothly. All our preparations, packing, the taxi driver lined up. And then, just before we are to leave home, a text from Air France, cancelling our flight with them and putting us on a Delta flight. Not a tragedy, but a disappointment; we always try to book Air France because their service is so welcoming, the food is delightful, and we just feel like the vacation starts as soon as we step aboard. So we know we will have to deal with it when we get to the airport.
We are checking in, and explain to the Delta check-in lady that we had the text, which had not yet shown up on her machine. She started poking around, and said “Mind if I make a phone call?” and we said “no, go ahead” and she talked with someone somewhere and looked at us and said “How would you like to fly directly from Atlanta to Barcelona?”
“YES!” we chimed together! We had wanted that direct flight, but Viking Air had said it was not possible. With just a few flicks of her fingers on the keys, it was entirely possible. Wow! We were blown away. We would get in several hours earlier than we had thought; more time in Barcelona!
What we didn’t know at the time was that we would not be sitting together, but it didn’t matter. We had a great flight, got some sleep and landed hours early in Barcelona.
For some reason, the bags took forever to get from the plane to the baggage delivery, like a full hour. We picked up my bag (AdventureMan did his entire trip out of his carry-on and backpack) and headed out to meet up with the Viking transport.
Two people with clipboards looked for our names – and we were not there! Finally a third person said “Oh! I’ve been looking for you; you are on our bus and we are leaving now!” so we went with a very small group to the bus. It was a small bus, filled mostly with elderly passengers with mobility issues, and us. We got to the Nobu hotel very quickly, and checked in.
“We’ve given you a very large room,” the porter said, and it was. We had a large sleeping area, a separate sunny sitting room, a dressing room/office, and a generous bathroom. It felt very spacious.
We settled in, took a brief rest, then headed out to get to know our neighborhood. AdventureMan had spotted a circular something, a mall, on the map near the Plaza d’Espana and wanted to go see what it was. I was actually not enthusiastic, but once we got walking I perked up and was glad for the exercise and the fresh air.
This was the circular “thing” on the map, and it was a mall, it had an elevator to the top, and we later learned that it was once a bullfighting arena, turned into a mall after years of neglect. They really did a great job; this was a fun place to explore.
We never felt unsafe on this trip. In Barcelona, police and emergency people were everywhere. This was a car and motorcycle collision, and they were there within minutes.
This is the arena / mall, and the round thing is the elevator to the top floor. As we were digging for change to pay for the trip we spotted a sign that said something like over 65 is free. There was a couple in front of us (I think also American) who were trying to insist on paying, so she just waived us through and continued trying to explain to them that they could go for free while we went straight to the top.
Inside the mall, things were happening. There were all kinds of stores you would find very familiar – American food chains and coffee shops. The place was packed with young people having something quick and fried at the end of the day. These kids were playing some kind of game where you step on clouds that form and reform in some kind of computer-generated way.
At the top, you could walk entirely around the whole arena, viewing the whole city. In the center of the circle were all kinds of restaurants. First, we had a great view of the Plaza d’Espana.
Just behind the very tall blue building in the center is the Nobu Hotel. To the left, off the busy main street, are quiet, bustling side streets we also got to explore.
Sagrada Familia is continuously under construction. Every time we visit, the date for completion has slipped further into the future.
I love seeing how people live. Imagine having this penthouse apartment with this little lap pool high above the city.
What tourism people will tell you is that Mount Tibidabo is an amusement park, but I can’t wait to get back to Barcelona and to visit this place – the tower on the right is part of the early Barcelona water system, and is supposed to be elegantly beautiful as well as functional. Guides in the area tell us that the church can be visited for free, and the art inside is stunningly beautiful, and the views from the top of the church – yes, you can go up there – encompass all of Barcelona, and too, are stunning. Worth a trip. (So many good reasons to visit Barcelona.)
We walked right by this park going to the arena and returning to our hotel, a park with installations by Miro’!
This is what the walking path on the top of the arena looks like, and on our right is the top of the elevator from base to top. To the left you see a couple of the restaurants – there are many – at the top.
So it’s 4:30 in the afternoon and we are starving and tired. While normally we shun touristic places, tonight we are ready for any port in the storm. We find A BrassaMe (I haven’t a clue what that means) which is open and already serving people, and they welcome us inside. And they have wine, and a view of the setting sun.
We are surprised most of the customers are Spanish and maybe local. Our waiter is very kind. We ask him to help us with choosing a good wine. We know we want to try some of the common tapas – bread with tomato, patatas bravas, I want to try fidua, a noodly disk kind of like paella, and he suggests a couple others, one a “bombe” (a potato filled with highly spiced ground meat) and something which we cannot identify but we think might be a deep fried fish of some kind. Doesn’t matter. It was a lot of fun, we ordered way too much food and it didn’t cost near what we pay in Pensacola for far less.
Bear with me, interiors interest me. I love the way this restaurant has capitalized on the view and the sunset. I love the sort of Miro-esque pipes in the ceiling.
I like the quiet elegant seclusion of this private dining room.
I love this bathroom. In modest, modern Spain, none of this silliness about bathrooms. Adults share the same room, doors are marked sort of ambiguously and people use whichever is free. How very grown up.
Our waiter is from Argentina, came here to find work and loves his life in Barcelona.
This is found everywhere – bread with tomato. He tells us that everything has to go on in a particular order.
This was the delicious spicy bombe.
These are another Spanish favorite, Patatas Bravas, kind of deep fried potatoes with tomato sauce or garlic sauce.
We’re pretty sure this was fish. Have you noticed how much food there is? We thought tapas were SMALL plates. We never saw a small plate of tapas in Spain.
I really liked this – Fidua. It’s kind of like rice-a-roni, little thin noodles cooked in a seafood broth, so tasty and delicious.
l love sunsets and sunrises and am more than a little uneasy about the sulphuric haze we found in most Mediterranean seaports.
Well-fed and well-wined, we rolled our way back to the hotel and managed showers before we fell, exhausted, into bed after a day full of good surprises. We slept straight through to morning.
This is a really fun day. We gather in the dining room for breakfast, and all around us we can see other families gathering. I wonder who is on the trip with us?
After breakfast, AdventureMan takes Q and N on a great adventure, climbing to the top of the Arch of Triumph.
Direct quote from Baba (aka AdventureMan)”Made it, calves burning, heart racing.”
Their view from the Arch:
Screenshot
Everyone arrives back at the hotel around the same time. Mom and Dad have not had any luck with tickets, but they have a plan. We decide to have a nice lunch in Paris before we board the bus to take us to the ship. The bags have gone ahead and we will see them again on board the Ms. Sapphire.
Lunch at the Cafe de Paris was great. The waiters were wonderful with the children, explaining everything. Yes, N could have her Ceasar salad WITHOUT the anchovies. Yes, the steak frites came with fries. Yes to everything – what is not to love?
In preparation for this trip, we had several family meetings to put together activities and priorities. Each one of us came up with one “Must” (mine was wandering in the Marais – Mission Accomplished!) so that we had some focus. My granddaughter, N, wanted to go to the top of the Eifel Tower.
We started working on access to the tower months before we departed Pensacola. Tickets were not available. Ticket scalpers had begun scooping up access tickets early in the game and selling them for exaggerated prices. This made life uncomfortable for tours and guides and independent tourists. N’s mother and I would check the official website often, with no luck.
N’s mother is a determined woman – and she lived in a Paris suburb where she taught English for a year, how is that for bold? She determined that accessing the tower would be the number one goal on Day One. Once the family had rested, showered and dressed, they took off to find out what access possibilities looked like on the ground.
They learned it is all luck, but that there are some times when access is likelier than other times. Meanwhile, they had a wonderful adventure and found a Kebab restaurant they all loved.
AdventureMan and I also found a restaurant we loved, Chez Barbara, just a short walk from our hotel. We loved it so much we ate there twice. As an aside, usually I take great notes to help me write up these trips, but when I went to look at my notes, the only notes I had were the Menu from Chez Barbara!
Chez Barbara
47 Rue Washington
75008 Paris France
Menu at Chez Barbara
ENTRÉES
Escargots – 6 pièces 10.00€
Croustillant de chèvre sur salade 8.00€
Carpaccio de bœuf fromage dur et câpres 10.00€
Melon et Jambon Serrano 10.00€
Burrata sauce pesto tomates 10.00€
PLATS
Croque Mr frites ou salades 13.00€
Croque Mme frites ou salades 14.00€
Burger ‘Chez Barbara’ frites 17.00€
Salade italienne 16.00€
Salade, tomates, artichauts, burrata, jambon sec
Salade de croustillant de chèvre chaud 16.00€
Fish & chips 19.00€
Mi-cuit de thon au sésame et purée 19.00€
Bœuf bourguignon (Black Angus) purée de pommes de terre 19.00€
Cuisse de canard confit purée de pdt 19.00€
Tartare de bœuf frites & salade 19.00€
Entrecôte grillée sauce au poivre frites 22.00€
DESSERTS
Crème brulée 8.00€
Tarte tatin, crème fraîche ou glace vanille 8.00€
Fondant au chocolat crème anglaise 7.00€
Baba au rhum 9.00€
SNACK
Tapenade des olives 6.00€
Grissini et Jambon Serrano 7.00€
Assiette de frites 5.00€
Assiette de charcuteries 12.00€
Assiette de fromage 9.00€
Croque Mr frites 13.00€l
I share this with you so you can see the prices, which we found quite reasonable. Wines, beer, and liquors also seemed reasonable – this is downtown Paris, a block from the Champs Elysees’.
What drew us to Chez Barbara was the menu – very down to earth French foods – and then the atmosphere. This was not a snooty restaurant. It was a local restaurant. In the outside seating area, a local sports team was meeting (heavy on beer and french fries) and a girl met up with a man who looked like her father, and they had a plate of french fries and a plate of cold cuts, which they shared, and several glasses of wine. A friendly Australian who worked as a day laborer offered to translate but we told him we were OK, and thanked him for his offer. There was a television and a small bar.
It was also another very hot evening, and we were jet-lagging. We split an Italian salad and a Beouf Bourguignon, and we drank a red Bordeaux. It was a great evening.
Police presence was heavy. As we ate (again, the windows to the street collapsed to the side, we were entirely part of the outdoors) several police cars came by nee-ner, nee-ner, and on the way back to the hotel we saw a person being ticketed for stopping. It was a chauffeur, waiting for a family dining at Cafe’ de Paris.
True confession: AdventureMan was very angry with me for photographing the police in action. He was right. I was probably not supposed to do that. Sometimes I take unnecessary risks. Don’t do what I do!
We linked up with our family who were eager to get to bed, get a good night’s sleep, and AdventureMan made plans for the next day to hike up to the top of the Arch with the grands while Mom and Dad sought to get those elusive tickets to climb the tower.
Bags outside the door by 0645, down to breakfast, back to the room to brush teeth, and get ready for the bus ride to Prague. It was a longer ride than I had anticipated, through snowy, icy roads and I regretted having both orange juice AND coffee with breakfast. I was eager to get off the bus in Prague quickly and find the nearest ladles’ room, and thanking God for getting me there in a timely fashion.
The Prague Hilton is huge. I am so thankful it is mid-winter, not even the peak of winter travel, and that it is not crowded. There is a large poker tournament going on. The Viking people have their own desk and helpers, we always know where to go with a question or a problem.
We set off immediately for our Prague tour, briefly on the bus which dropped us off near the Charles Bridge.
Our guide uses a Quiet Voice system, so we have ear-pieces on. We can hear her from about thirty feet or less, so while we are having our picture taken, we are also listening to her tell us stuff. Mostly to stick together as a group. There must be a hundred groups crossing the Charles Bridge.
So many tourists! You can’t imagine! We have crossed this bridge before, other years, even on New Year’s Eve Day, with our son – never like this. Prague is discovered.
We walked, crossed a small portion of the bridge with lots of tourists, walked a little around Old Prague – not going inside, and then, just around when the Astrological clock would be striking, then the guide took us down in the basement of the Bethlehem church for some kind of exhibition – we were free to use the restrooms and warm up, but we had hardly been out long enough to get cold. As we left the church, we told the guide we would leave and make our way back to the hotel on our own.
We eat the Bulgarians lunch
Ah! Free at last! We love roaming, and we were hungry. We found a wonderful restaurant, Deer, just about full, but room for us.
It was beautiful, and the beer was good, and we ordered deer, a consommé, and deer ravioli for me and a “fallow” deer for my husband. My consommé arrived, and it was light and delicious. Then our meals arrived, (sorry, we were hungry and forgot to take photos) and my husband’s was right and mine was not, but it looked great so I figured we might have been misunderstood and we ate our meals with delight.
As it came time to pay, the waitress brought our bill and AdventureMan looked it over – it was the original order, AdventureMan told her I had received, and eaten the more expensive meal, and would she adjust the bill so we would pay (more) for what we had eaten.
With some confusion, she went away, came back with the corrected bill – and told the people at the next table that there had been some confusion, and we had received their meal. We apologized profusely, and we were all laughing. They asked the waitress to please hurry the same meal to them and we had a great conversation, as we waited, them asking us if it had been a good meal and us assuring them it had been delicious. So much goodwill. They didn’t hate us for eating their lunch!
We found the main market, at the Clock Tower, and wandered around.
I checked Google and there was a bus from right at the market directly to our hotel, Bus 194, and we caught it. How cool is that? Equally cool is that in Prague, public transportation is free if you are 70 or older (some say 65). You MUST have ID with you to prove your age, but you ride FREE!
It took us through the narrow back streets of Prague, past interesting hotels and restaurants way off the beaten track. At one point the driver had to get out and move a garbage can in his way – the streets were VERY narrow. It was great fun and dropped us near the Prague Hilton.
We rested – we had already done 15,000 steps. We wanted to head to another Christmas Market. Confident we now understood the bus system, I asked Google Maps how to get to bus 135, but every bus that arrived with that number said (something in Czech) and DO NOT GET ON THIS BUS so we figured out they were going out of service. After waiting over an hour for one in service, we were really cold so we came back and ate a thoroughly mediocre expensive meal at the Hilton. Another day with over 17,000 steps – it has become routine on this trip 😁.
“Best Trip EVER!” we have whispered to one another so many times since returning from this trip. When I tell you the details, you might wonder – an airport horror, a fire on board, and not one, but two times boarding flights and having to de-board and later reboard. You will think “how can this be the best trip ever?” but adventures are made of many details, and on this trip, the magic far outshines the disastrous.
Our trip started wonderfully, with our son picking us up and taking us to the airport. This is not a blessing we take for granted, as both he and his wife have busy lives, and we never want to be those parents who feel entitled to inconvenience them. Our flight to Miami was inconsequential.
I have never been through Miami Airport before, but we had taken a look before we left and saw that the tram was out of service due to structural issues in the airport. That’s not good. But carts are coming on a regular basis to transport us the long walk to our international gate, so that sounds good, doesn’t it?
Once you arrive, signs tell you where to wait for the carts. We arrived around six pm so maybe they were all off for dinner. We waited. We waited. And we waited some more.
We have made a conscious decision, at least going to the cruise departure, to carry our baggage with us. After waiting, we decide we have no choice but to walk, so we do. We manage. It wasn’t all that bad. (I will NEVER, if I can help it, fly through Miami again.)
Miami International Airport is crowded. It is also hot, more than 80°F and we are wearing our heavy winter coats. They have adequate signage.
I find it very passenger-unfriendly. It is not beautiful. It is not intuitive. When we get to our gate area, there is a food court with long lines – and few tables. We grab a couple of (actually very good) Cuban sandwiches and go to the seating area to eat. It is awkward, to balance food, water, and baggage. There are passengers surrounding us speaking all kinds of unidentifiable languages. It is an opportunity for a good conversation, but everyone is grumpy and self-absorbed.
Our gate, we discover, is actually downstairs, and (again, counter-intuitive) there are lines to board on both sides of the very large room. You really have to be paying attention to figure this out. There are limited restrooms, and a lot of people, and more coming every minute. This is going to be a very big plane.
OK, so now I will whine. We board. This is a British Airways flight. The crew members are delightful. The business class is AWFUL. It was business class for sardines. It is like an open hostel. The layout is designed to squeeze the maximum number of lie-flat seats in the minimum space. So there are two seats on the outside of each aisle and four seats down the middle. My husband and I traded with a single guy to be together, but to get to restrooms, you have to step over a sleeping person’s legs. These are the skinniest lie-flat seats I have ever been in, and – worst of all – there is NO storage but for the overhead compartment. No place to put your purse! No place for your shoes! No place to hang your coat! No place for a personal item of any kind! And NO PRIVACY!
I know I am in charge of my own attitude, and I am not happy. I decide to skip the meal entirely, not even a glass of wine, and go to sleep. It was the right solution.
Transiting Charles de Gaulle Airport used to be a thorn in our sides, but this time, as we exited our plane, we saw a red-jacketed woman holding a sign with our names on it (!) and her job was to get us through the transit and to the right gate. We had experienced some anxiety about making this transit, and we got a miracle – Brittany knew just where to go and had us to our gate just as our plane started boarding. Thank you, Viking, for anticipating this tight connection and shepherding us through it.
Getting through Charles De Gaulle was a miracle. Now, magic continues to happen as we near Berlin and see the ground covered with snow. The pilot tells us this is not normal for this early in the season, but oh, it IS beautiful!
More magic – because we have our baggage with us, suddenly we sweep right through with our carry-ons and Viking is there to meet us on the other side of the door.
We have received notification that our international plan with Verizon is in place, and we are good to go with calls and messages and data for the trip. It is a little expensive, but every time we travel, we have had an issue of some kind come up, and then, such coverage is priceless. During this trip we had to make calls about a dental emergency and a suspected credit card fraud, so having this plan in place was worth every penny.
It is maybe a half-hour ride to our hotel, the Grand Hyatt, located on the edge of the old East Zone, and central to everything we want to see. We are so excited. We check in, clean up, organize and rest a little, and are ready to hit the streets. Just up the street is a small local Christmas Market, and a brewery with good traditional German food. It is snowing, but not messy snowing, just little flakes that drift and gather and never exceed a couple inches. It is slick. We have to be careful, but it is so much fun.
Making a snowman for our granddaughter:
This is Potsdamer Platz, where locals gather to drink the traditional hot Gluhwein, and eat a hot pretzel, or gingerbread, or a long sausage. Nearby are major transportation hubs for busses and for trams and for trains, and a very large mall, which we did not visit. We found a smaller mall, very near us, where we could use the ATMs, find quick meals, and an outstanding bottle of Saxon white wine, which we took with us on the boat to have in our room 😁.
It’s been a long time – since before COVID – since we have been in Germany, so we decide we would rather eat in a sit-down restaurant nearby, the Paulaner brewery.
My husband has the large beer, I have the dark beer. We no longer drink a lot of beer, but oh my, we enjoy this beer.
I have a Nurnburger sausage and a salad.
My husband has a lot of little sausages, and a lot of potatoes!
This is the small mall near our hotel. The funny thing is, it has a very Arab feel. I would bet it is Arab-owned. There is a food court, and many options are Arab, and other options we have seen in Doha and Kuwait. It makes us feel at home.
Interestingly, we find our hotel is also Arab owned.
The rooftop pool is lovely – and has a killer view out over the city.
The fresh air, the walk, the good German food and beer, and the lovely swim to end the day have given us a great day, and an even better sleep, sleeping all through the night on our first night in Berlin.