Tom and Tam in Dover, England
Originally, this was supposed to be a cruise to Russia, Estonia, Finland, and Sweden … but the Covid pandemic and Vladimir Putin had other things in mind. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine sent shivers through the Baltics, causing much of the world to sanction his nefarious actions. This was met with threats to expand into Latvia and Estonia. Finland and Sweden retaliated by requesting to join NATO. Things were escalating quickly in the northern region and it was no place for a Disney cruise. We were informed that St. Petersburg and Tallin were removed from our itinerary and replaced with two much less interesting Norweigian ports.
Putin Threatens Finland and Sweden
Having already paid for the nonrefundable cruise in advance, we were forced to choose an alternative itinerary. The best of which was the Northern Europe Adventure launching from Dover, England and dropping anchor at more western (and less threatened) ports such as Amsterdam, Warnemunde (Berlin), Copenhagen, and Oslo, Norway.
So we went with Plan B.
Our intrepid partners were Michelle and Hailee Morgan, veteran travelers. We would count on them to help facilitate our journey.
Part I: Magic In The North Sea
Disney Cruise Northern Europe: London, Dover, Amsterdam, Berlin, Copenhagen, Oslo
Friday, August 26, 2022
Flight to Europe
Months of planning and several Covid tests later, with great anticipation, we drove to nearby Tampa International Airport, where we boarded British Airways flight 2166 to London Gatwick. Our premium economy seats aboard the 777-200 were pretty good. Row 15 over the wing. Decent knee room. Onboard entertainment was good too. Still, red-eye flights are no fun, especially for Tam. She dreads them. At least we didn’t have to wear Covid masks!
Our flight was smooth at 39,000 feet as the path stayed south of bad weather along the Canadian coast, during the first half of our 4,400 mile flight. Our meal was quite good; butter chicken, yellow lentil, and basmati rice. After the dinner service concluded, the cabin lights were dimmed. Most people tried to catch some sleep.
Saturday, August 27, 2022
London Gatwick
Low clouds obscured Ireland as we soared toward the rising sun. My breakfast was a ham and cheese biscuit nuked into a molten mass and virtually impossible to eat. I still went for it.
The fog was burning off as we circled Gatwick. A random patchwork of farms spread below us in all directions. The city of London was too far north to sneak a view of the skyline. Our super-smooth landing and taxi to South Terminal took only a few minutes. The wait at bag claim was nearly an hour. Jet lag was settling in as we trudged to the Hilton Gatwick.
Miraculously, one of our two rooms was ready. We threw the luggage into a pile, closed the blinds, and proceeded to grab a much-needed catnap. Groggy and hungry, we headed to the lobby for a quick bite. Both of the hotel’s restaurants were closed. We sat at the bar, and even though there was a waiter, he never came over. We must have looked too American. So we bailed and looked elsewhere.
Luckily, we grabbed a delicious lunch at Giraffe, located on the upper floor of the South Terminal train station. Walking back through the hotel lobby, we decided to see if our other room was ready. The first shift supervisor confirmed that our room, next door to the one we had, was available. She programmed two keys for us and sent us on our way. Tam went to collect our bags from our first room while I unlocked and opened the door to the adjoining room. Imagine my surprise when I saw two naked men each laying on twin beds, with room heat at 85 degrees, watching a rugby match on TV. They casually acknowledged my presence … one of them even waived … as I dumbfoundedly backed out of the room. The front desk manager was so shocked to hear our description that she offered us free drinks in their lounge.
Talking with a waiter at dinner, I was reminded that the UK had only just re-opened after the Covid lockdowns and was still trying to get its act together. British people are so wonderfully embarrassed and apologetic when they’re put on the spot.
This trend of disorganization also extended into our Disney logistics, as no one seemed to know when or where our cruise line motorcoach pickup point was. Tam spent several hours on the phone with Disney reps and we were able to piece together a vague notion of the plan. We decided to do a reconnaissance of the airport to figure it out.
Gatwick Airport is a hodgepodge of interlocking buildings, tunnels, trams, and trains. I would describe the architecture as 1960s incrementalism. Located 39 miles south of London, the airport was an early aerodrome and played an important part in the RAF effort during World War II. Gatwick is the busiest single-runway airport in the world, serving 46 million passengers a year.
After some investigation, we thought we located the DCL pickup point at North Terminal Arrivals. We would only know for sure in the morning.
We ate dinner at the Hilton Garden Restaurant and retired to our room. TV viewing was relatively limited with four BBC channels and one irreverent independent channel called Dave. Fortunately, it was running a Top Gear marathon all day. We kicked back and enjoyed episode after episode, much of it filmed 30 miles away at the Top Gear Test Track at the Dunsfold Aerodrome.
Tam and I held out until 8:30 pm.
Sunday, August 28, 2022
Gatwick to Dover
Boarding the Disney Magic
I awoke at 3:08 am, feeling well-rested and alert. Most of the jet-lag seemed gone. I forced myself to sleep another two hours and woke up feeling jet-lagged again.
Tam shared the latest news with me. The Zaporizhzhia nuclear reactor in Ukraine had been damaged by a Russian missile attack and was at risk of releasing radioactive clouds over Europe.
Russia / Ukraine War Hits Nuclear Plant
Damn the torpedos!! We were fully committed now. Nothing would stop us from going on that frickin’ cruise … unless we can’t find our bus.
The four of us checked out of the Hilton and transferred to the North Terminal. While everyone else ate breakfast at Jamie Oliver’s coffee shop, I went down to our possible meeting point and found a guy holding a Princess Cruise sign.
I took a chance and asked if he knew if Disney also met their cruise passengers here. He flipped over his card and revealed a Disney Cruise Line sign. Praise the Lord! His name was David, and he had no idea who we were or if a bus was coming to get us. He gathered our information and made several calls. Eventually, he was able to secure a motor coach for us and escorted us to it. We learned that the four of us would be the only people traveling in a sixty-one seat top-of-the-line Mercedes motor coach. We thanked David profusely for taking such great care of us and set off for the Port of Dover.
The sixty-four mile drive took just under two hours (there were significant construction delays along the M20). The trip was wonderful, riding in the lap of luxury while watching the English countryside roll by.
We began to parallel the ocean from a distance, then Tam noticed old concrete defensive turrets from World War II spread randomly along the ridges. Making a hard left turn around a blind hill, a huge vista of Dover sprung into few, revealing massive castles on top of thrusting cliffs of white chalk (with more than 350 foot drops to the English Channel). To our right was a clear view of the French coast, and directly in front of us was the Disney Magic.
Our motorcoach dropped us off directly in front of the port entrance. After several Covid checks, we registered and immediately boarded the ship. The Disney Magic is our favorite of the fleet. Not only because it was the first (built in 1998) but also because it is slightly smaller, and more intimate. It also featured a classic Art Deco design motif and (in our opinion) was constructed with more finesse and overall quality than Disney's newest generation of big boats.
Michelle was not super-impressed at first, but once she roamed the ship for while, it began to grow on her. Hailee loved it.
The setting sun created a dramatic backdrop along the cliffs of Dover as we launched into the North Sea. From the top deck we could see two vintage British Spitfires roaring in formation overhead and watched them disappear over the hilltop fortresses. We toasted the beginning of our cruise as the Magic began its journey east along the French coast. Almost immediately, the silhouette and city lights of Dunkirk came into clear view. The essence of World War II was very palpable for me, and sent my imagination racing.
Operation Dynamo was the name of the Dunkirk evacuation, which successfully brought 338,000 British army troops back to safety in England when they were hopelessly trapped by the encircling German army along the coast of the English Channel during the Battle of France. On May 20, 1940, the beginnings of a hastily-assembled fleet of 800 civilian vessels, directed by Naval Headquarters at Dover Castle, gathered at the port for further instructions. For several days, chaos ensued while the Navy waited for direction from London. The word finally came from Churchill on May 26. The evacuation continued for several days while an air battle flared over the skies between Luftwaffe and RAF fighters. 3,500 combat sorties were flown during the evacuation. We were in hallowed waters, for sure.
Barely an hour into the cruise, Michelle and Hailee came to our room (7626) having won Ultra-Disney Trivia and proudly wearing their plastic medals. It was a great start!
Dinner at Lumiere’s was virtually identical to Disney's Royal Palace restaurants. Same location. Same decoration. Same food. Following dinner, we enjoyed a musical show in the Walt Disney Theatre, Once Upon A Song. It was like watching a high school talent show. We could have taken a pass on that one.
We hit the sack early because Amsterdam was in an earlier time zone and would force us to get and early start. We were informed that the Magic would not be able to navigate its usual path into the city due to a severe summer-long drought. We would use the industrial port of IJmuiden, and take shuttle busses into Amsterdam.
Monday, August 29, 2022
IJmuden, Netherlands
Amsterdam
Van Gogh Museum
Anne Frank House
Awake at 5:52 as the Magic’s thrust-reversers gently moved us into position at the port, we hustled to get ready to scramble off early and get to our appointed destination, the Van Gogh Museum at 9:30. It was overcast, damp, and cool with a forecast high of 63 degrees.
Dawn was breaking as we opened our curtains to large modern windmills running up a sandy coast. It was a fascinating modern Dutch landscape. After a quick breakfast at Cabanas, we boarded a shuttle to the city center (about forty-five minutes). We followed along a main canal that usually brought heavy maritime traffic to the city, through a series of locks. However, water levels were too low to permit transit.
Gas stations were busy, despite prices above 2000 Kronos per liter (eight dollars per gallon). The twenty kilometer drive was slowed by rush hour and construction on route 208.
Passing Schiphol International Airport, the driver reminded us that the runways were five feet below sea level, requiring pilots to adjust their landing settings when making their approaches. Schiphol Airport, home of KLM Airlines, helped make Amsterdam a major gateway to Europe. We had swung through it on many occasions in years past.
Amsterdam is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, due to its large network of historic canals and related locks. It was founded at the Amstel, a location that was dammed in the late 12th century. It became one of the most important ports in the world during the Dutch Golden Age (17th century) and was a leading center for financial and trade sectors. The canals were constructed during that time and are one of the beloved legacies that still exist today.
We approached the Centraal Station via (S100) Nieuwe Westerdokstrat. This was our drop off and return point. Based on our cellphone maps, the walk to the Van Gogh Museum was supposed to be a 15-20 minute stroll. It turned into a two and a half mile death march through the red light district. I can only say it was amazing … along with the dozens of inexplicable yet ubiquitous pancake shops we saw on virtually every corner.
De Wallen - The Red Light District
The only thing more numerous were bicyclists, who rode with abandon through the streets. Pedestrians were basically targets. In fact, we were informed that bicyclists had the right of way on sidewalks. Despite this, we arrived at our destination alive and on time, and even enjoyed a few refreshments before beginning our tour.
The Van Gogh Museum was well worth the effort. Hundreds of works were displayed chronologically in the modern four story structure, beginning with an incredible gallery of self portraits. His paints and palette were on display as well. This opening presentation was simply stunning.
The tour moved up one floor at a time, chronologically, with his final works on the top floor as a glorious crescendo representing his raw, emotive impressionism at the end of his tempestuous life.
Photography was prohibited in the museum, but nobody paid attention, everybody had their cell-cameras out. And to heighten the experience, we were provided with multimedia devices and headphones which gave us background on the artist and the creation of many of his works of art.
We were all touched by different works; The Potato Eaters, Sunflowers, Skull With Burning Cigarette, Wheatfield With Crows, Bedroom In Arles, and Almond Blossoms. However, all of us agreed that Self-portrait With Grey Felt Hat was the most compelling of the bunch.
We were blown away by the sheer quantity of paintings, literally billions of dollars worth. It certainly left a lasting … impression.
We picked up some coffees and Cokes at Stef’s Coffee Bar and continued to Anne Frank’s house, located on the Prinsengracht canal. The front doors were painted an unassuming dark green, with only small plaques marking its significance on the mullions. Everyone on the street was looking up at the top windows, trying to imagine living in hiding for years. Ultimately, the effort became fruitless when the Frank family was caught by the Gestapo and sent to Auschwitz. Only one family member survived. Although this likely occurred tens of thousands of times, it was the publication of teenager Anne Frank’s diaries that broke people’s hearts.
We were not able to secure tickets for a tour of the house, so we slowly worked our way back toward Centraal Station. The group was becoming hangry, so finding Mr. Pancake was fortuitous. We ducked inside and tried everything from banana crepe and whipped cream pancakes to potato pancakes with chorizo, paprika, and cheese.
We returned to the pickup point via Nieuwendijk, the retail and fashion district. The kids stopped at TK Maxx to check out the latest European fashions while I looked at several cheese shops. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time for the Amsterdam Sexmuseum.
Still jet-lagged, Tam and I were tired after walking nearly eight and a half miles through the streets of the “Venice of the North” and enjoyed the coach ride back to the Magic.
My initial impression of the city, based on our morning arrival by bus along the Het U waterway, was that Amsterdam was an ultra-cool modern city, with a preponderance of cutting-edge 1950s and 1960s bauhaus architecture.
But as we walked through the heart of the city toward the museum district, it was clear that Amsterdam was a very old city, with rows of conjoined brick houses lazily leaning onto each other along the plethora of canals. Clearly, it was obvious that the place was a Birkenstock heaven. We literally saw dozens of people leaving their townhouses for work glassy-eyed and reeking of pot. The city was filthy too, as unkept as many of the people living in it. Garbage was randomly strewn everywhere. It was obvious that there was a whole lot of 'don’t give a f*ck.'
I have often read the opinions of travel experts who speak of Amsterdam and it’s inhabitants in idyllic terms. I can appreciate when people talk admiringly of Amsterdam’s laid back, almost decadent, way of life. But there is a fine line between laid back and faineant in my book … and from what I had seen, it was on the razor’s edge of that line.
I must say that coming back to the very familiar Disney Magic was like returning to a ‘home away from home.’ We crashed in our cabin, put our feet up, and got some needed rest. Dinner at Animator’s Palette was great as always, with the usual black truffle dumplings and cookies and cream sundae. It was a perfect end to a terrific day and two still jet-lagged sexagenarians quickly fell asleep.
Tuesday, August 30, 2022
Disney Magic Day At Sea
North Sea
Kattegatt Strait
The North Sea was flat calm, the far horizon was clear but low clouds covered the Magic as we headed northeast on our circumnavigation of Denmark. Temperatures were cool, in the mid 50s. We were surrounded by oil tankers and freighters … and huge windmills. Eventually, everything fell away, leaving us alone in a cold rain. Perfect conditions for a day at sea.
The North Sea is a historically and strategically important place in the world. It has played a key role in geopolitical and military affairs going back as far as the Middle Ages. The Vikings, the Haseatic League, the Dutch, and the British all claimed dominance of the sea. As Germany’s sole ocean access to the world, it was heavily-contested in both World Wars.
These days, it plays a key role in marine trade, being among the busiest shipping lanes in tonnage. Rotterdam is the world’s fourth largest shipping port. Hamburg, St. Petersburg, Antwerp, and Bremen all utilize the North Sea to reach the world.
Geographically, the North Sea was formed by massive glacier movement during the ice ages, creating gorgeous fjords and archipelagos in the region. These movements also facilitated the development of deep-water oil reserves containing much-desired premium-quality Brent Crude. North Sea oil platforms still pepper its waters (I only saw two), but they were far outnumbered by huge wind-farms. We passed literally thousands of windmills as we traced the western coast of Denmark. Most of those windmills were not turning.
By noon, the weather had cleared, and the sky became cloudless. The Magic was turning the Jutlandic peninsula as we enjoyed a sumptuous brunch at Palo. We had a commanding view of a long section of high sand dunes along the Hirtshals coast. It was the Rabjerg Mile, a one hundred fifty foot tall migrating coastal dune. Predominant winds blowing to the northeast shift this dune as much as sixty feet each year. The area is so unstable that human settlement is impossible. A church built in the area in 1400 was completely buried in sand by the eighteenth century.
At 5:02 pm we made the sharp right turn at Skagen (very busy with ship traffic), around Grenan, and into the Kattegat Strait. The Kattegat is known for its unique severe halocline, with two distinct saline layers. Competing flows from the Baltic and North Seas conspire to create this distinctive micro-environment.
On our port side, clearly visible in the setting sun, was our first glimpse of Sweden. Shimmering along the coast was the skyline of Gothenberg, the country’s second largest city, with a metropolitan population of more than a million.
Dinner at Raphunzel’s Royal Table was slightly mediocre, but the Silent DJ Party in the Fathoms Lounge was hilariously fun!
Hailee and Michelle caught word that a really cool thing would happen in the middle of the night, sometime between one and two am. The Magic would pass beneath the Storebaeltsbroen (Great Belt Bridge). It is a huge suspension bridge connecting two key Danish islands. The center span is 5,328 feet wide and its clearance is 213 feet. With a height of 172 feet, the Magic would clear underneath it by only 41 feet. Dozens of crew members stayed up for the thrilling experience; Michelle and Hailee joined them!
Once beyond the bridge, we entered the Baltic Sea. The Baltic (Latvian for Big Sea) is a unique body of water; with little water exchange with the Atlantic Ocean. The water is brackish, with poor oxygenation. In the Middle Ages, the Vikings traveled the Baltic regularly. And since then, the sea has been contested by surrounding nations for centuries, including World War II when the Nazi hospital ship Wilhelm Gustloff was sunk in 1945, with the largest loss of life in maritime history, 9,000 lives.
The Magic continued through the Bay of Kiel as it continued to its destination, Warnemunde, Germany.
Wednesday, August 31, 2022
Warnemunde, Germany
Berlin
Reichstag
Brandenburg Gate
Berlin Wall
We awoke to the news of the passing of Mikhail Gorbachev. My immediate thoughts went to Ronald Reagan’s exhortation in Berlin … “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.” In a matter of hours, we would be standing on the remains of that wall.
The Magic was still approaching the port of Warnemunde at 6:00 am, as we pulled the blinds open. It was a spectacular morning. Looking aft, I could see that we had just navigated a huge wind farm minefield. As we nudged closer toward shore, we could see hundreds of windmills in all directions. This served as a reminder that the world was in the midst of an energy crisis; some of which was caused by the war in Ukraine and some self-created. Even with the windmills, Germany had become entirely reliant upon Russia for most of its energy. Putin’s belligerence required Europe to cut off natural gas from Russia, which has laid bare how exposed Germany is to Russian control. It has been a painful summer throughout Europe, with rolling blackouts and sky-high energy prices.
Our train slowed into the northern suburbs of Berlin when Michelle called out, “There it is, the TV tower!” Within minutes we pulled into Berlin Hapfbahnof. Our tour guide, Jens, met us and gave us a quick briefing about the station, explaining that when he arrived in Berlin in 1980, the entire area was a wasteland. It was still suffering from the 350 allied bombing missions nearly forty years earlier. Walking out to the bus, I instantly recognized the glass frame top of the Reichstag a few blocks away.
Once on board the coach, Jens shared with us that today was a very important and poignant day. “Mikhail Gorbachev died overnight … he is considered the father of the new United Germany.”
Mikhail Gorbachev, Germany's Most Beloved Russian Has Died
Almost immediately, we circled the German Chancellery and Parliament. Both recently constructed in brutalist modern architecture. Directly across the street was the Reichstag; old, dark, and scarred … with the notable glass dome rotunda designed by Norman Foster. An incredible juxtaposition of old and new.
The Reichstag was built as the center of the German Empire in 1894. It took 23 years to complete. It fell under the power of the Weimar Republic until the building was burned and substantially damaged in a 1933 arson by a communist splinter group in protest of Adolf Hitler’s election as Chancellor of Germany. It was converted into a hospital and then radio tube factory during World War II. It was virtually destroyed by the Russians when they invaded Berlin in 1945. It sat in disrepair until 1956, when the West German government decided to restore the structure. By 1971, the Reichstag had been saved.
Upon the unification of Germany, the building was rebuilt again as a political structure once again in 1995. A glass dome with spiraling walking ramp was designed and built by Sir Norman Foster in 1999. The Bundestag (lower House of Parliament) has convened there for the past three decades.
A huge green space was laid in front of the Reichstag. It is so large that it is nearly twice as big as New York City’s Central Park. We crossed the plaza, turned a corner, and the Brandenburg Gate swung into view.
Our approach was from the west, the rear of the gate, which is the same location President Reagan gave his famous speech. We circled to the south and looped around the Russian (old Soviet) Embassy to the front side of the gate, facing east.
Jens told us that when he was living in East Berlin, Vladimir Putin was living there as well in the Soviet Embassy, as a KGB official. Putin witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall and it shaped his thinking about the future of Russia. Our tour guide also revealed that Putin could speak very fluent German … while Angela Merkel could speak fluent Russian (having been raised in East Germany). They often spoke each other’s languages when in discussion.
Joseph Stalin had also spent time at the embassy, located within eyeshot of the gate and the wall. The rear stucco of the Soviet embassy was painted pink, while the front featured completely different ornate and imposing limestone carvings and columns.
Fifty yards from the Brandenburg Gate, our driver parked in front of the Hotel Adlon, I recognized the place before the words even came out of Jens’ mouth. This was the hotel where Michael Jackson hung his baby out the window for his fans. The photos made every gossip rag in the world. Jens also said that Brad Pitt had also stayed there a few days ago, when he came to Berlin to visit his architect friends.
Michael Jackson at the Hotel Adlon
The Brandenburg Gate was built by the Prussians in the 18th century. It was one of eighteen similar gates surrounding Berlin. It featured a quadriga (bronze statue of Victoria in a chariot with four horses). When Napoleon conquered Germany in 1806, he triumphantly removed the quadriga and sent it to Paris. After Napoleon’s defeat in 1814, the statue was returned to the gate. A German Iron Cross and Prussian Eagle were added to the sculpture as a symbol of ultimate victory.
When the Nazis rose to power, they used the gate as a party symbol. It survived the devastating allied bombings of World War II, although badly damaged by bullets and shrapnel.
Hitler at the Brandenburg Gate
Traffic could pass through the gate until August 13, 1961 (known as Barbed-wire Sunday), when the Berlin Wall was built through the Brandenburg Gate. It was at the same location, on December 22, 1989, that West German Chancellor Helmut Kohl walked through the gate to meet his East German counterpart, and German unification began.
Brandenburg Gate
Jens walked us toward the left side of the gate to get the best photographic angle. He casually pointed at a DG Bank that was located behind us, and said that a world famous architect had designed it. From the outside, it unassumingly conformed to all of the architecture around it. From the inside, however, it was pure Frank Gehry staring us in the face! A huge idealized carp of curving metal hung above a glass ceiling, with the bank lobby buried in the ground. He called it his “fish in the tank design.” It was truly indescribable.
Frank Gehry's DG Bank - Berlin
Between the bank and the Brandenburg Gate was tucked the United States Embassy. Across the street was the French Embassy. Down the street, across from the Russians, was the Italian Embassy.
We re-boarded our bus and continued east on Unter Den Linden, the broad boulevard where all of the Soviet and GDR military parades took place. At the far end was a large statue of Friedrich Wilhelm III on horseback. On two opposing squares were built a series of academic buildings and libraries. The Hulboldt Universitadte was founded in 1810 by Friedrich III. By the 1930s, it had become one of the world’s preeminent universities studying the natural sciences. Albert Einstein was a professor there.
Yet, the most memorable event that took place there was Joseph Goebbels’ Nazi burning of Jewish and intellectual books in the square directly in front of the library. Today, that tragic moment is commemorated by a small square glass window looking into an empty room buried in the ground in front of the university library. The room is lined with empty white shelves, making a powerful and provocative statement.
The Empty Library (Bibliothek)
We continued our journey through old East Berlin, observing concrete block apartment complexes and powerful government edifices. None is more powerful than the East Berlin TV (Fernsehturm) Tower (known by those on the west side as ‘the toothpick’). The tower is 1,207 feet high, and was the tallest structure in Europe for decades. It commanded our attention, no matter where we were in Berlin.
Jens took us to lunch at ‘a very special place’ that served authentic home style Bavarian food … Hofbrau House. The four of us looked at each other and laughed at the obvious tourist implications. Still, the food was tasty and the beer fantastic. Tam had one of their famous Rattlers (beer and lemonade). Don’t laugh! It is great!! Even if it was touristy, the Hofbrau House was worth the break.
Jens then took us to the East Gallery of the Berlin Wall. This was a section that ran along the Spree River and featured works of art by respected artists, such as Thierry Noir, Kanu Alavi, and Banksy. One particular work, called The Kiss by Dimitri Vrubel, was a hilarious political satire with Leonid Brezhnev and East German leader Erich Honecker french kissing each other.
Most of the wall’s 160 kilometer circumference is gone, but its location is marked throughout the city by strips of brick cutting across sidewalks and streets, serving as a constant reminder. Wherever East Berlin built ‘the wall’, they were actually building two parallel walls, with a wide ‘kill zone’ between. Gun-towers were placed in strategic locations for that specific purpose. There are a few places in Berlin where observers can see just how brutal and hopeless the situation was.
One person who made it out was an East German soldier. Eighteen year-old border guard Conrad Schumann jumped the barbed wire fence he was guarding and became the first defector from East Germany. The date was August 15, 1961, and the wall had been under construction for just three days.
People from the West side were shouting "come over here" and Schumann jumped the barbed wire and was whisked away in a West Berlin police car. "I was able to swap my loaded sub-machine gun for an empty one before I jumped. The jump was not so difficult then."
Eventually, he moved to Bavaria where he married and worked at Audi's assembly line for nearly thirty years.
One way to know if you were in the old East or West Berlin was to observe the traffic lights. East Berlin pedestrian lights featured a now-iconic walking figure known as Ampelmann. There were even stores selling merchandise with that image on it. I bought two original lights to take home (and later discovered they were the wrong voltage).
When the tour group went to its fifth church, I ducked out and located an ATM machine. None of us had a single Euro, and we knew that we would be tipping at the end of the day. Michelle and I completed the task. We also thought daughter Laura would love a picture of a bronze statue of some dude fighting off a dragon.
The Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church was partially destroyed in the bombing of Berlin. City leaders weren’t sure whether or not to restore or tear it down. Smartly, they decided to leave it as a ruins to memorialize the war. It stands today as one of the most powerful legacies of the destruction of war.
Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church
Circling back toward the train station, we passed the Berlin Zoo and the German Presidential Residence. The flag was atop the building; the President was at home.
I noted that while older tourists tended to treat all of this history with reverence, most young people were ignoring it completely, like it was ‘old history’ of the past. Berlin is definitely evolving. For every World War II or Cold War monument, there is an entertainment club or curry-wurst vendor. Graffiti is everywhere. Jens confirmed that Berlin had become a very liberal culture, where most anything goes. For me, so much of Berlin is hallowed ground. I had difficulty watching millennials playing frisbee inside a kill-zone. But then again, here are my selfies at the notorious tourist trap Checkpoint Charlie …
In seven rapid-fire hours, we conquered Berlin. In many ways, it reminded me of Washington DC, not only because it projected power as a seat of national government, but because it was so saturated in history. From Napoleon, to the Weismar, to Fredrick the Great, to the Third Reich, to the Cold War, to the Unification … the city was raw with history. It was still happening.
I could easily come back to Berlin and spend a week to fully absorb it all; there was so much to see and contemplate.
Thursday, September 1, 2022
Copenhagen, Denmark
Amalienborg Palace
Tivoli Gardens
The Magic retraced it’s path through Langelands Baelt, Store Baelt, and Samsae Baelt during the night. At sunrise we were turning east around Sjaelland island, toward Copenhagen. It was another spectacular day, relatively warm (forecast 70 degrees) and cloudless skies. Seas were flat.
In the past three days we had almost completely encircled the nation of Denmark and its 443 islands. We did not include the island of Greenland, of course, which is under Danish rule. From every angle, Denmark is a heathland, covered in low shrubs and Norwegian Spruce. It has almost no variation in elevation. Quaint seaside villages with identical homes are sprinkled along the coasts.
By 9:30, we had turned south into Oresund (The Sound) and we’re closing in on the City of Spires. It was a glorious day in Copenhagen (bright sunshine and 70 degrees).
After a late start, we climbed on our bus and headed into town. Lily was our tour guide. She shared with us how important it was to be ‘green.’ She proudly stated that with a population of 640,000 people, there were 670,000 bicycles. And they were all out and about on this exceptional day.
We entered the oldest part of Copenhagen, known as Frederiksstaden, where the Royal palaces and gardens run alongside the harbor.
The Danish Monarchy has existed since the eighth century. Prior to that, Denmark was controlled by Vikings. For many centuries, it was an elective monarchy, but became a hereditary one in the seventeenth century under Frederick III. Today, the chain of monarchy is through the Glucksburg family (originally German). When Denmark’s Constitution was drafted in 1849, ultimate executive power shifted to the government. Monarchical powers were limited to ceremonial activities. Queen Margarethe II has been the monarch since 1972, and was the first female monarch since 1412.
All members of the royal family live in separate quarters of Amalienborg Palace. They have resided there since 1794. They must be like most families because they can’t live under one roof. Each royal lives in one of four separate houses tied together by enclosed breezeways. Keeping each other at arms length is probably a good thing for royal continuity.
Across the harbor, aligned with the Royal palaces, was the modern and impressive Copenhagen Opera House. It was built and donated by Denmark’s largest business, Maersk Shipping. Lily told us that It wouldn’t be far from the truth to say that Maersk basically runs the country.
Just beyond the opera house was a refuse burning facility, Copenhill, where everything not recycled is burned. The incinerator is wrapped in an architectural metal grid (to hide it from Royal view). Better yet, the back side of the structure was designed as a public ski slope, complete with trees, turns, and ski lift.
On this day, we were lucky, the Royal yacht was in harbor and we got a rare glimpse of it up close. Usually, it was over at the navy yard.
Driving through Copenhagen, I was struck by how spotless it was. No garbage. No graffiti. No vagrants. It was idyllically beautiful. Fantastic new architecture blended with old. It was like a Chamber of Commerce advertisement!
The city felt intimate, nothing like Berlin. More like Grand Rapids (even though Copenhagen had twice the population).
Even though Denmark was part of the European Union, one of the stipulations for joining was that it could maintain its own currency, the Danish Krone (DKK). The Danish are a quietly sovereign people despite the fact that their lives are so highly regulated. No wonder Denmark ranks so high in world rankings.
Our next stop was Tivoli Gardens. Built in 1843 as an amusement park and pleasure garden, it is the most visited site in Scandinavia. It is the second-most visited seasonal amusement park in the word, after Europa-Park.
It was originally called 'Tivoli & Vauxhall' alluding to the Jardin de Tivoli in Paris and the Vauxhall Gardens in London. Founder Georg Carstensen obtained a charter to create Tivoli by telling King Christian VIII that "when the people are amusing themselves, they do not think about politics." The king immediately granted him fifteen acres just outside the city gates.
Tivoli Gardens is famously known for being Walt Disney's inspiration for Disneyland.
We were given one hour to see the park, so we immediately found the Tivoli Food Hall and ordered lunch. For some reason, everyone avoided Danish food and ate Asian. We marched through the outer perimeter of the park, exited out the back door, and boarded the bus. We definitely could have used a couple more hours there.
Ok. So Tam, Michelle, and Hailee thought Tivoli Gardens was wonderful! As good as Epcot. Not me. I thought it was a dump. To me, it looked like something somebody created in plywood in their back yard. The rides were ordinary amusement rides. They had usual balloon dart games and cotton candy carts. Throw in the occasional whiff of livestock and you’ve got the Ohio State Fair. Things that they saw as ‘adorable’ I saw as … meh (actually, it was a dump).
Maybe that’s a bit harsh. It was fun. It was quaint. I can see where Walt Disney got the idea to build Disneyland. But I’m gonna be rational about it; Tivoli is slightly over-rated.
We reboarded our bus and cut through the center of town, where every block had something of interest; canals, plazas, and architecture. In fact, Copenhagen was so exquisite that it made one think about living here …
... Think again. Costs are high in Denmark: Food prices were 39 percent higher than most of Europe. Cars were taxed at 185 percent. Income tax was 50 percent. VAT taxes were 25 percent. Real estate costs had skyrocketed. And subtly, government and social customs control many aspects of your life too. More on that later.
Our final stop of the day was the famous statue of the Little Mermaid. Based on the character created by Hans Christian Anderson, the statue was placed in the harbor in 1912. This was a significant stop for me, as one of the last photos of my father was taken here in 1996. I was proud to have the opportunity to do it in 2022.
Tom Jr. and Tom Sr. at the Little Mermaid
As we returned to the ship, Lily said, “Many people have a problem with the amount of control the Danish government exerts on their lives. For those that don’t … we love it.” I found that statement to be slightly Orwellian.
All in all, I’ve gotta say that our Copenhagen experience was fantastic! All four of us were extremely surprised. The conditions were perfect, no doubt contributing to our overall impressions. We were all disappointed that our time was so limited and we agreed to revisit again.
Ultra-modern construction in Nordhavn Basin
The Magic pulled anchor at 5:30 pm. It spun 270 degrees and headed to open sea. For the next eighteen hours we would parallel the Scandinavian Peninsula to our next destination, Oslo, Norway. The peninsula was the largest in Europe and from the outset, we could immediately observe a change in topography; rolling hills (filled with iron and copper deposits).
Night fell as we sailed up the Kattegat, with the lights of Gothenburg flickering at the water’s edge.
Friday, September 2, 2022
Oslo, Norway
Tjuvholmen Harbor
Holmenkollbakken
Vigeland Sculpture Park
National Museum
A dark orange sun appeared as a slit on the eastern Norwegian taiga before quickly disappearing behind a cold, gray cloud layer. White alpine houses randomly popped through the pines. Temperatures were cool, in the 40s. The Magic slid past on its narrowing path to Oslo, located up the Inner Oslofjord.
Intermittent rain fell as we serpentined past small rocky islands, most inhabited with tiny houses. The bluffs climbed higher, giving way to mountains in the far distance. At last, Oslo swung into view across a broadening fjord.
We docked at 9:06 am at Tjuvholmen. Temperature was 53 degrees. Our latitude of 60 degrees was roughly equal to that of Anchorage, Alaska … and it felt like it. We jumped ashore at Aker Brygge, located dockside. It was a complex of very modern high-end retail and pricy condominiums. No cedar lodgepole here; this stuff was cutting-edge architecture, with a distinct style of its own. Perhaps a good term for it might be Nordic-modern?
Cold rain came in waves as we searched for a good coffee shop. We found Supreme Roastworks/Porsche Studio. Yes, the coffee shop had a Porsche Targa 911 inside. The Ethiopian Roast was excellent!
The harbor was very active. Two other cruise ships were in town and tourists were wandering in all directions. Oslo’s TV9 was shooting its morning show at the docks, too; promoting the Oslo International Boat Show.
We caught up with our tour group after lunch, boarded a bus and drove into the local neighborhoods. Our tour guide, Randi, told us that Oslo liked to call itself the Biggest village in the World which reflected its communal worldview. Norwegian residents of the encroaching hills did live in highly compressed housing and lawns were nonexistent. She gave us the same green environment spiel that Lily gave us in Copenhagen.
At an elevation of 1,400 feet, with a commanding view of the fjord, Holmenkollbakken was a huge swooping Olympic ski-jump structure. Originally built in 1892, it had been renovated dozens of times to include grandstands, eventually to a capacity greater than 70,000. It hosted the 1952 Winter Olympics and was still in use for the World Ski Championships.
On this day, they were operating parallel zip-lines (for only $70) from the top to a landing point in the far grandstands. I wished we had the time to give it a go! The view of Oslo below was magnificent.
At the entrance to Holmenkollbakken stood a large bronze statue of a cross-country skiing King Olav V, and his dog, Troll. Olav V was known as the People’s King due to his down-to-earth style and consideration for his people. He would frequently mix with the people without a bodyguard, drive his own car, and lead by example. He was a great intellect and athlete, an Olympic champion sailor, and renowned ski-jumper.
In 1905, under the threat of a violent uprising, Norway was granted independence from Sweden. Our guide Randi told us that Norwegian voters were given the opportunity to vote for a republic or a monarchy. They voted for a monarchy. The problem was that there had not been a king of Norway in over 400 years. So they went shopping for a king. They found a potential one in Denmark, hired him, and away they went. I found this to be hilariously ludicrous. (By the way, Olav V was this guy’s son).
As we continued winding our way down the mountain, Randi pointed at the fjord below and mentioned that Norway was an insignificant country until it discovered premium-quality crude oil in the deep waters of the North Sea. She further elaborated that despite Norway’s emphasis on environmentalism, their economy was still highly reliant upon oil. In fact, Norway remained the largest off-shore drilling operation in the world. This was an obvious dichotomy for Norwegians; mixing green ideology with crude oil production. I did find it very interesting that I did not see a single windmill or solar panel in Norway.
Initially, I wasn’t super-enthused about touring an outdoor sculpture park, but the Gustav Vigeland Sculpture Park was something else entirely. Located at Frogner Manor on Oslo’s west end, the Vigeland Installation covered eighty acres and featured 212 granite and bronze sculptures by Gustav Vigeland. All of the renderings were of anonymous nude men and women in various poses, carved between 1923-1943. They encompassed all ages, ranging from an Angry Baby to elderly people near death. At the park’s highest point was a centerpiece called the Monolith. A huge totem with concentric circles of nude couples at various stages of life, representing the circle of life … from birth to death.
In fact, Vigeland designed the entire layout of the park in a monolithic fashion in 1919. It took more than twenty years to bring it to fruition.
I saw this huge display as an apt reflection of the Norwegian way of life. Secular. Humanist. Nowhere was there a cross or representation of a God. Only nude, often faceless humans in various stages and activities of life.
Our visit to the Nasjonalmuseet (Norwegian National Museum) was cut short because our tour guide did not have our entry tickets. Once we got inside, we had twenty minutes. Everybody followed everybody else to the same place. Floor two. Room sixty. Edvard Munch. Across a darkened room, it was easily recognizable. It was The Scream.
Up close, the work was tattered and washed out. Damaged from being stolen, not once but twice. Munch would have loved it, in fact he often set his works outside to fend for themselves for months before displaying them, calling it his Horse Cure. His works often exhibited spills, stains, and bird-poop (which has proven to be a restorer's nightmare). The Scream still has wax on it from when Munch dripped a candle on it in his attic. Still, there was an instant familiarity with it. And as expected, there were the usual jokesters clowning around with it.
Edvard Munch perhaps had reason to make art like this. His father was a priest whose obsessive pietism was used to control his family. His mother and elder sister both died of tuberculosis when he was a child. His younger sister was schizophrenic and his famous painting was probably inspired by an 1893 visit to her during one of her screaming fits. Fifteen years later, Munch himself would have a nervous breakdown. While living in Berlin, he befriended Hans Jaeger, a nihilist who believed that suicide was the ultimate way to freedom. He became a supporter of Naziism until his death in 1944, which partly explains why his home in Oslo was demolished in 1960.
Our last ten minutes were spent wandering through the history of Scandinavian Design (1900-Present). Here we found examples of the incredible mid-century furniture that made companies like Herman Miller famous. I wish they had allocated more space to it.
We hustled through Aker Brygge and along the docks to the Magic just before they pulled up the gangplank. We had done it! Four cities in five days. Our triumph was only slightly muted by a bit melancholy that our cruise adventure was nearly over.
After dinner, we sat on the outside top deck of the ship, freezing in winter attire and watched the Frozen stage show (complete with fake snow) as the Magic departed Scandinavia with the sun setting beyond the fjord to the west.
Saturday, September 3, 2022
Disney Magic At Sea
North Sea Crossing
It was rather exciting taking a shower while the ship was plowing through the North Sea at twenty-one knots! The grab bar came in handy several times.
Breakfast was a rock and roll experience too. From our vantage point we could see four to five foot rollers with lots of breakers and mist (described by the Captain as moderate seas). The ship tilted gently from side to side and the propellers shuttered against the movement. The pools on the main deck were splashing back and forth.
During this final day at sea, I reflected on what impressed me so much about Copenhagen and Oslo. Especially when compared to the hedonism of Amsterdam and anarchy of Berlin.
I believe one factor was the gentle but intrusive hand of those in power; both government and corporate. The populations were generally complacent under their control. But, principally, their populations were also vastly more homogeneous than most other countries we’ve visited. The resulting shared values and like-mindedness of the populace reduced polarization and seems to make governing far simpler. It was easy to observe their core values of secularism, humanism, and soft-socialism. Their religion was clearly environmentalism.
In both Norway and Denmark these beliefs have evolved into a subtle social-policing behavior known as the Law of Jante. It is a code of conduct that explains the egalitarian nature of Nordic countries. It characterizes as unworthy and inappropriate any behavior that is not conforming, does things out of the ordinary, or is personally ambitious. They take the form of ten rules (as written by Danish-Norwegian author Aksel Sandemose):
1. You're not to think you are anything special.
2. You're not to think you are as good as we are.
3. You're not to think you are smarter than we are.
4. You're not to imagine yourself better than we are.
5. You're not to think you know more than we do.
6. You're not to think you are more important than we are.
7. You're not to think you are good at anything.
8. You're not to laugh at us.
9. You're not to think anyone cares about you.
10. You're not to think you can teach us anything.
The crux of this liturgy is that the individual is subordinate to the group. Janters who transgress this unwritten "law" are regarded with suspicion and some hostility, as it goes against the collective desire to preserve harmony, social stability and uniformity.
After many generations, the people have resigned themselves to compliance and given away many of their individual liberties. What they get in return is communal peace.
It may be worth it for some, but personally, I couldn't do it. I’m far too much of an individualist. The trade-off would be too great.
"Malo periculosam, libertatem quam quietam servitutem." (I prefer the tumult of liberty to the quiet of servitude) — Latin, translated by Thomas Jefferson
The afternoon was spent playing trivia and folding towel animals with our new friend, Alston. All while the Magic continued rolling across the North Sea toward England. The swells were subsiding and it was smooth sailing ahead.
Part II: Keep Calm And Carry On
Living it up for a week in London, England
Sunday, September 4, 2022
Dover Priory Station to Kings Cross Station
London
Hyde Park Corner
Herrods Department Store
Vauxhall Tower
At 5:28 am, the Magic crawled past the cliffs of Dover and within minutes, we docked at the port. At 7:00 am we were eating breakfast at Lumiere’s. At 8:00 am, we were disembarking. At 8:49 am, we were on a high-speed train from Dover Priory Station for St. Pancras. At 9:54 am, we walked to Kings Cross Station. At 10:29 am, we were at our Air B&B at Vauxhall Tower in London (1 St. George Wharf), across the street from MI-6 Headquarters.
Michelle and Hailee parted ways with us at St. Pancras, taking a quick side trip to Disneyland Paris. They would rejoin us in two days.
With five hours to burn before our B&B was ready, we stored our luggage and headed up the Victoria Line to Hyde Park Corner. From there we walked up and down Piccadilly, past the Sheraton Park Lane and the Hard Rock Cafe. Another two blocks north, located at Cruzan Square was a black-painted brick apartment building. The top window on the right marked an apartment once owned by Harry Nilsson. In July of 1974, the singer loaned his apartment to Cass Elliot while she was performing at Royal Albert Hall. The morning after her July 28 performance, she was found dead of a heart attack. No, she did not choke on a ham sandwich.
Four years later, Keith Moon, drummer for The Who, asked Nilsson if he could crash in the apartment. Nilsson was hesitant, worried that Moon also might die there. Pete Townshend jokingly nudged Nilsson and said that lightning couldn’t strike twice ... and even volunteered to buy the apartment if it did. Sure enough, Moon died from a toxic quantity of prescription drugs in the exact same bed as Mama Cass. Both Elliot and Moon were 32 years old. Pete Townshend bought that apartment.
Harry Nilsson's Apartment - Cruzan Square
RIP Cass Elliot and Keith Moon
Heading west, as we cut the southeast corner of Hyde Park, we were joined by thousands of Hare Krishna followers parading down the street, and blocking traffic. We followed along for a couple of blocks before we turned off toward Harrods Department Store.
Harrods was more incredible than I remembered. Entire rooms of … everything!! Twenty feet from a massive display of Rolex watches was a massive display of goose livers. We ate at The Grill (terrific chicken Caesar salads) and walked through the tea room, the chocolate room, the perfumery, the bookstore, artists gallery, and Lebanese bakery. We walked through all five floors of it.
We were texted that our place was ready, so we worked our way back to Pimlico to pick up our luggage and dragged it back across the Vauxhall Bridge while staring at the MI-6 (SIS) Building I had seen so many times in James Bond movies. Our Google map told us to walk alongside the Thames and approach the Vauxhall Tower from the water-side. We met Cynthia (the caretaker) at the parking garage, where she gave us the apartment keys and security fob for building and gate access. We were in!!
Cynthia escorted us past the tuxedoed valet and concierge and up the express elevator to the 37th floor. She opened apartment 21 and we stepped in. Lights were off and blinds were closed. She opened a closet and gave me a quick tutorial on home automation touch-screen operation. She opened the powered blinds, revealing a spectacular two hundred degree view of downtown London, including Westminister Abbey, The Parliament and Big Ben, St. Paul’s Cathedral, The Gherkin, The Shard, The London Eye, and a huge portion of the Themes.
It was a multi million-dollar view.
The apartment was modern, with high-end wood finishes, cove ceilings with recessed lighting, marble floors, and retro-mid century furnishings. It was definitely a swingin’ place! It had two bedrooms and two full baths. Only one issue, the air conditioning had been turned off and the place was broiling (30 c). We turned the A/C on and it slowly … very slowly … started to bring the temperature down. We moved a fan around from room to room to help.
We ate dinner at a beer garden/comedy club tucked away under a bridge across the street near Vauxhall Station. We shared a super-tasty French Taco made with chicken, exotic spices, and French cheese. On the way home, we stopped at a grocery store to pick up supplies for the week … including crumpets! Finally, after walking twenty thousand steps since we stepped off the Magic, we were ready to live like locals along the Thames.
The Secret Outdoor Beer Garden
We watched the sun set over our apartment. Our building cast a shadow twelve blocks long. The St. George Wharf Tower (known by most in London as Vauxhall Tower), was built in 2014 and at 50 stories was the tallest residential structure and eighth tallest building in The UK. The floor plan design was that of a wheel, with concrete inner core lobbies, structural steel exoskeleton, and entirely glass fascia. In 2014, it was nominated by Building Design magazine for the Carbunkle Cup as ugliest new building in London. It won runner-up. Personally, I liked the design.
From where we sat, we could see thirty to forty miles in all directions. A constant stream of large jets rumbled toward us from places unknown, and turned left for Heathrow. As night fell, the city came alive with lights. I could see the illuminated face of Big Ben. Across the city, all of the fast-rising sky scrapers featured red obstruction lighting on top. The view was so spectacular, it was hard to take it all in.
Monday, September 5, 2022
Green Park
Saville Row
Leicester Square
British Museum
The Vine Bar (Anniversary Dinner)
Happy Anniversary!! Forty-one years ago, we were married in Sidney, Ohio … and on this morning, we were enjoying crumpets in our Pied-a-terre high above London.
A brilliant sun rose through high, thin clouds. With our vent windows cracked open, we could hear as well as see the world awaking below us. Vauxhall Station was busy with trains moving in both directions. Nearby, workers were gliding up the construction elevators of the new Park Hyatt London River Thames hotel going up (way up) beside us. We could clearly appreciate that it was a dangerous job.
During construction of the Vauxhall Tower, on January 16, 2013, a helicopter flew into the top of the building and crashed onto Wandsworth Road. The pilot and a pedestrian were killed. The construction crane atop the building was severely damaged.
We hit the trail hard, Vauxhall Station to Green Park. We exited the Underground at the legendary Ritz Hotel on Piccadilly Street and continued east to the Burlington Shoppes. Tam was more impressed by the guy with a backpack vacuum than she was the shopping. We turned right and then left. Boom. Right in front of us was 3 Saville Row, the former home of Apple Records, where on the roof, the Beatles played their final concert on January 30, 1969.
We continued up Saville Row, looking at the windows of the finest men’s suit-makers in the world. One of them, Huntsman, had been featured in several famous action movies. The lobby in the Kingsman movies was identical to the real one.
We returned to Piccadilly via S. Bond Street, lined with every imaginable fashion house that ever existed. I asked Tam which one was at the top, and she said Chanel. And there it was, right in front of us, along with Givenchy, Gucci, Dior, and Yves St. Laurent. For the record, I offered to buy Tam something for our anniversary. She suggested McDonald’s coffee.
S. Bond Street - Fashion Central
We walked a bit further and found the Lego store at Leicester Square. A thirty-foot Big Ben stood in the window. A full-sized Aston Martin DB5 was in the lobby. Michelle begged us to get her something, but they were out of most of everything.
Like a miracle, McDonald's was next door, and Tam got her coffee while I had a warm Diet Coke, no ice, with a decrepit paper straw. When I went to throw our cups out in the trash, a guy suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind, and dragged me over to a custom garbage setup … “Straw goes here, top goes here, pour out the liquid here, slide the empty cup here!” And he curtly showed me again with Tam’s drink. I could have sworn I heard a slight German accent. I think he was a McNazi!!
The McNazi
While we sat for a few minutes at Leicester Square, we noticed that local authorities had closed the road in front of the Odeon Theatre and were building bleachers. A policewoman told us that a world premiere for a movie was going to be there Wednesday night. Tam discovered that George Clooney and Julia Roberts were going to be there for the premiere of Ticket To Paradise.
Sadly, the National Portrait Gallery was closed for renovations, so we walked a mile north to the British Museum. When we got there we were starving, so we blasted through several rooms of Egyptian antiquities to get to their pizzeria. Tam put together a game plan for the museum while we waited for our lunch.
We started at the top, fifth floor. Mitsubishi Corporation had just completed a new Japanese history addition. It was impressive. Tam thought that a thousand year old bell was her favorite thing in the museum. Mitsubishi also presented a complete 17th century samurai suit of armor from the powerful Mori family. Wow!
From there, we checked off the list of 1 Hour Tour Highlights, finishing off with the Rosetta Stone … again. This was my third encounter with it. I was impressed, once again, with the ultra-dynamic architectural glass roof Norman Foster designed for the museum atrium.
The Rosetta Stone
We caught the Central Line at Tottenham Centre to Oxford Circus, where we were to catch the Victoria Line to Vauxhall. I could see the Victoria train loading from a distance and we both sprinted for it. I jumped on, turned around, and saw Tam waving goodbye to me through the door.
Oh shit.
The ride to Vauxhall by myself was a contemplative one. All of the people on board saw that I had abandoned my wife and were giving me the evil eye. I was already sweating, but now I was dripping. I pulled my sunglasses down over my eyes and thought about what I would say when she caught up with me. My conscience told me not to say anything. Thank God for fluoxetine.
I waited for her at the Vauxhall rail siding. She pulled up less than one minute later, and jumped out smiling and waiving. Whew! I had dodged a bullet.
We made one more stop at the local convenience store for more bottled water and bath soap. The two of us staggered into the apartment, and Tam immediately started doing laundry, then took a nap. I worked on this journal. The skies were clouding over, giving the skyline a darkening pall. Heavy storms were expected in the early evening.
It was an important day in London, the BBC announced that Liz Truss had been elected Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, in a special election of the Conservative Party after the resignation of Boris Johnson. She had been Secretary of State for Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Affairs for the UK.
Liz Truss Elected Prime Minister
The threat of rain dissipated, clearing the way for gorgeous sunset. Tam and I walked a short distance to The Vine Bar to celebrate our anniversary. It was the perfect place; intimate and relaxed. An Italian family from just north of Naples operated the small restaurant, serving authentic Italian cuisine; sautéed olives, bolognese, and carbonara. It was the perfect evening ... I am so grateful to be Tam’s mate.
Michelle and Hailee returned from Paris and saw the apartment for the first time. They didn't notice the view so much as they did that Tam wasn’t feeling well. Hailee asked what the symptoms were. Tam said “chills, cold symptoms, cough”. We all looked at each other. I helped Tam with a BiNax test.
Tam had Covid.
The kids washed their stuff all night and booked another bed and breakfast for the rest of the week. I slept on the couch.
Tuesday, September 6, 2022
Covid Lockdown
Morning couldn't come soon-enough. My back and shoulders were killing me.
With an abundance of safety, Michelle and Hailee bailed (Michelle was the only one of the four of us to not have had Covid). Tam stayed in isolation in the master bedroom. I stayed to take care of her. In a sick way, our dream of living like locals in London was becoming true.
Tam gave me a shopping list and I did my best, but despite going to three different stores, I could only get half of the items. Things like frozen waffles didn’t exist in London, but I did buy more crumpets. They were good!
Also, to help us settle in for the lockdown, the massive weather system that we had been waiting three days to arrive, finally roared into London, bringing winds and heavy rain. The small chandelier in the living room was quivering.
The UK was in the world news, as newly-selected Prime Minister, Liz Truss, flew to Balmoral, Scotland to have an audience with Queen Elizabeth. As was customary, the queen asked her to form a new government. Her Majesty looked frail, but was her usual cheerful self while greeting her guest.
Wednesday, September 7, 2022
London Lockdown
Like a local, I ran down to the Tesco market around the corner for more supplies; orange juice, orange Fanta, Digestive crackers, and some sort of cup-a-soup called Wicked Kitchen Late Night Rice Noodles. I thought that since it was basically vegetarian and had Basil in it, Tam would love it!
I watched The King’s Speech and Our Darkest Hour while in lockdown. Watching Winston Churchill on television, I couldn’t resist getting up periodically, walking to my window, and looking down on Parliament and Big Ben. All seemed quiet in the city below. And while watching The Queen, I was reminded that twenty-five years ago this week, London was the focus of the world as Princess Diana’s funeral procession marched through the streets.
By the way, Tam hated the Wicked Kitchen Late Night Rice Noodles.
Thursday, September 8, 2022
10 Downing Street
Parliament Square
Westminister Abbey
Big Ben
National Covid Wall
MI-6 Headquarters
Buckingham Palace
Another storm blew through during the night. I could feel the building swaying and could hear the bedroom doors rattling in their frames.
At daybreak, London fog was lingering below on the rooftops with rain expected throughout the day. It was the kind of day London was famous for. Big Ben was calling out to me. I had to go on a walkabout. I got Tam her isolation breakfast, put on my windbreaker and hit the streets.
The Tube was extremely busy with commuters. People moving quickly; not looking at each other. Most were alone in cell-conversation. I boarded Vauxhall Victoria Line to Victoria Station and switched to Central Line east to Westminster Station. I popped out of the ground near Downing Street. I circled the secure area surrounding 10 Downing Street. Security was unbelievably high; literally dozens of armored agents at every entrance. I was able to see down the street, where several cars were queuing up at the front door. Something was going on.
Just north of Downing Street was the Queens Life Guard, which consisted of infantry and cavalry contingents whose role was to protect the royal residences (Household Cavalry). I walked through the large parade grounds, getting a unique rear view of the Prime Minister’s residence. Massive iron fencing, topped with razor wire covered a high brick wall. Guard posts were placed at the corners.
There is a neat little park named Parliament Square in the center of Whitehall. It is an open space that facilitates large scale photography of the landmark buildings that surround it; Westminster Abbey, the Parliament, and Big Ben. I swung around and shot in all directions, including the iconic bronze statue of Winston Churchill.
The abbey had lines wrapping around the block going into the entry side door. Been there, done that. I took a few quick exterior photos and moved on to the Parliament, where the flag was flying high. Little did I know that I would see it lowered in a matter of hours.
Some very special places in the world are so iconic that they call out to be photographed. The clock tower containing Big Ben is one of them. I enjoyed spending several minutes on the Westminster Bridge watching fascinated tourists whipping their cell phones out and posing.
An elderly couple from Corvallis, Oregon were taking selfies and I volunteered to take their photo. They asked if they could return the favor. Why not?
The London Eye slowly rotated just downriver. Little observation eggs on the huge wheel enabled observers to gain a spectacular view of the city. Each rotation took an hour, which with no visible bathrooms made me wonder if my prostate could handle it.
The London Eye
At the opposite end of Westminster Bridge was the Albert Embankment Path. It ran for miles along the Thames, all the way to St. George’s Wharf Tower in Vauxhall. It provided an outstanding view of the Parliament building as well as the bridges and river traffic. It had become a perfect day to walk, I couldn’t stop taking pictures.
In the trees just south of the bridge, I could see Lambeth Palace, residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury. The castle was built in the 14th and 15th centuries. The chapel is the oldest part of the structure, built in 1435. It had been the site of periodic heresy trials, revolts, and ransacking over the past six hundred years.
Paralleling the embankment was the National Covid Memorial Wall. It was covered with hundreds of thousands of hand-painted hearts, with personal inscriptions in each. It seemed to go on forever. And it seemed more than a little weird that Tam was sitting in our apartment, isolating with Covid while I read name after name for half a mile.
Just before arriving at the St. George’s Wharf Tower, I walked past SIS MI-6 headquarters. The architecture was super-modern and very recognizable, having been fictitiously blown up in James Bond’s Spectre. At street level, it was a concrete fortress, with only one discernible door, and an impressively large man with a tactical vest and massive gun blocking it.
I was very glad to have been able to revisit those British landmarks one more time. The clouds had broken at the perfect time. By noon it was raining again.
The afternoon was spent packing and cleaning up the apartment. I did several loads of laundry and worked at sanitizing everything. Tam was pretty sure she was no longer contagious, having gone two days without fever. She was climbing the walls.
Tam suddenly alerted me that the news broke that doctors were gravely concerned for Queen Elizabeth’s health. The Royal Family was gathering at Balmoral. The BBC suspended regular programming and presenter Huw Edwards was wearing a black suit and black tie. Continuous blanket news coverage of the Queen began.
Late afternoon, I glanced out the window and saw this rainbow, and wondered if it weren't a harbinger.
At 6:36 pm, London time, Queen Elizabeth II, the longest reigning sovereign of the United Kingdom, passed away at the age of 96.
I looked out the window. The flag was still up at the Parliament. A huge black CH-47 Chinook helicopter suddenly appeared and circled the city. Traffic seemed to come to a halt. Trains sat in stations for several minutes and a crowd formed in front of Vauxhall Station. Several news helicopters began to accumulate over Buckingham Palace. Operation Unicorn was in motion.
Queen Elizabeth II Dies (The Mirror)
At 6:50 pm, I watched the flag lowered on the Parliament Building. The BBC reported that Prince Charles would officially become king at 11:00 am tomorrow.
The Queen was dead. Long live the King … King Charles III.
Michelle and Hailee happened to be in Mayfair and were among the first at Buckingham Palace after the announcement. They took incredible photos of the first flowers being placed ...
They watched an apoplectic media arrive, blasting away with their cameras. Then they witnessed police in riot gear running to the main fence to set up positions in response to a swelling crowd of mourners; in less than an hour, thousands had come in the rain to pay tribute to Her Majesty.
As night fell over London. Purple lights were illuminated on buildings and bridges. Electronic billboards posted tributes to the Queen. The sky opened up and the rain began to pour throughout the city. The crowds continued to build late into the night.
Friday, September 9, 2022
Express London to Gatwick
TVE Spanish Television Interview
It was still raining at daybreak. The Bank of England made an official announcement overnight that money with the Queen’s likeness was still legal tender.
When I walked through the gift shop at Westminster Abbey a few hours earlier, I observed that virtually the entire space was full of Queen Elizabeth imagery. She transcended her role as monarch and became a celebrity of sorts. Her unflappable resilience and personal dignity had earned her a great deal of affection, respect, and reverence. There seemed to be an unspoken question on the BBC the next morning; what would happen when the humility of the Queen was replaced by the hubris of the King?
Scaffolding and barricades were already going up along the rain-soaked streets in preparation for the funerary events planned for the next ten days.
We washed all the sheets and sanitized the apartment while watching BBC coverage. At 9:30 am, we bid adieu to our skyscraper lodgings. I took one last look out the window and clearly saw the Union Jack, lowered, but in full furl on the Parliament in the morning light.
We dragged our bags to Vauxhall and through Victoria Station. I was impressed by the huge old-brick warehouse terminal (there were tributes to the Queen on all of the large electronic signs). The station was chaotic. I tried to find newspapers at three different newsstands, but everything was completely sold out. The only thing we saw were extremely high levels of security; armored police with high-powered weaponry at every gate.
Lucky for us, there was a huge Gatwick Express sign hanging high in the rafters that pointed us in the right direction. I checked my Oyster transit card and still had 32 pounds of credit, so I was good. Our train was very comfortable and smooth, but it was moving through some pretty rough neighborhoods, as many railways often do. We broke through a clearing and I could see the Vauxhall Tower for a few fleeting seconds. Then off we went into the countryside.
Tam had been through her five days of isolation (as required by the CDC) and was wearing a mask throughout the transit.
We arrived at Gatwick and I quickly ducked into another WH Smith. I noticed a television crew interviewing the cashier. They watched me grab several of the newspapers and the interviewer asked if she could film me purchasing them at checkout. Then she asked if she could interview me in the terminal. Of course I would.
The interviewer told me she was with TVE Spanish News Network and I would be broadcast around the world and on the net. She asked what it was like to be in London when it all happened. I told her that I had been down in Whitehall (Parliament and Big Ben area) earlier in the day, then heard the initial news. Once we were informed that the royals were all flying in, we knew it was serious. Still, we didn’t know it would happen so fast. I told her that it was sad event but that the monarchy had probably been prepared for the moment.
I mentioned that I saw a rainbow over the city prior to the announcement, and then witnessed the lowering of the flag at Parliament. She asked if I had plans to stay for the funeral. I told her no, that I had to return to the states and I was taking newspapers home to family. They filmed me putting the newspapers in my luggage and then moved on to another traveler.
For the record, the newspapers were amazing, and would soon be headed for sister Beck …
Tam and I took the tram to the North Terminal, where we ate lunch at Nicolas Culpepper. The first real food for both of us since Monday night.
Our rooms were not ready at the Gatwick Sofitel, so we sat at the bar and watched two televisions in the lobby. Surprisingly, the only people in the hotel interested in what was going on were us. Both BBC and Sky News were covering King Charles III boarding a Gulfstream jet in Aberdeen, Scotland for London. So the question was … would the king arrive in London before we got into our room?
The answer was yes. King Charles III landed at RAF Northolt at 1:36 pm and we were still waiting in the lobby.
The King’s motorcade proceeded directly to Buckingham Palace, where he met with the plebes hanging out at the gates. We missed most of his glad-handing because Hubert, the Sofitel front desk clerk decided to school a trainee, including attempting to upgrade our rooms and upsell us to a premium meal program, in a check-in transaction that lasted nearly thirty minutes.
Finally in the room, we settled in to watch continuing coverage of events. We saw a replay of the King halting his Rolls Royce limousine outside the gates to greet his loyal subjects. The chyron running at the bottom of the TV screen announced that all sports including football and horse racing were cancelled throughout the mourning period.
And can you believe it? My interview was already being broadcast on TVE, and here are photos of it.
We opted for room service, to limit Tam's exposure, but mainly to watch everything as it was transpiring. For us it was fascinating. We both ate fish and chips while King Charles III addressed his nation and the world for the first time as part of a memorial service at St. Paul’s Cathedral. His nine-minute message was well-delivered and compelling. The program concluded with the first rendition of God Save The King in more than seventy years. There wasn’t a dry eye in the church.
Saturday, September 10, 2022
Gatwick to Tampa
Gatwick Airport
At precisely 10:00 am, as we were checking out and heading to the terminal, King Charles III was being proclaimed in an accession ceremony at St. James Palace (attended by the Accession Council: two hundred of the most powerful people in Britain).
Six ex-prime ministers in the Accession Council
Trumpets blared as we streamed coverage while being seated on our British Airways flight (#2167). An arch-bishop publicly announced the new king at the Royal Exchange in downtown London. At the conclusion, the Scots Guard struck up God Save The King just as our flight rolled down Gatwick runway 26L and headed for home.
The Queen remained at Balmoral with the rest of the royal family, waiting for her ten-day journey, ultimately to Windsor Castle. By Saturday morning, the media had become nostalgic, repeatedly showing video clips of the Queen with James Bond and Paddington Bear. The shock of her loss had dissolved into warm remembrance.
For the next nine hours, while over the Atlantic, I reflected on our incredible adventure …
When we first made plans for this trip, my attention was primarily on the Disney cruise to Northern Europe; to visit Amsterdam, Berlin, Copenhagen, and Oslo. We decided to throw in a week in London as an afterthought, so that we could absorb and appreciate real life in the UK.
But fate had other plans. Who would have guessed that Britain would elect a new Prime Minister, the celebrated and glorious Queen Elizabeth would pass away, and King Charles III would ascend to the throne … all in six days? Our ‘real life’ London experience became a ‘once in a lifetime’ experience. We witnessed history in the making, and it was something we will never forget.
I admit that I’ve never been a huge fan of monarchies. I think much of the pomp and circumstance surrounding them is garish and slightly ridiculous. But for those who cherish it, as I’ve seen here in London all week, the process of imperial continuity is a sentimental centuries-old tradition and a reassuring part of the nation’s identity. The nation’s people take great pride in it, and frankly … it was heartwarming to see.
This journey was particularly memorable not just because we visited historic and beautiful places, but also because we witnessed history as it unfolded. It was a rare opportunity to learn from a culture and share in their experience. We got far more than we expected.
Postscript:
Watching the memorial ceremonies from home on the BBC, I could see the procession pass across the Queen's Life Guard parade grounds and through the Household Cavalry arch. The same arch I walked through only six days earlier.
