A GIFT AND A LONG RIDE

Italy’s Holiday weather has been awful! Yesterday it was supposed to be a really bad weather day. So we were not prepared for the gorgeous day that arrived and looked to be the norm as we scanned the sky for clouds or rain. We agreed to go for it and gave up plans to do anything, deciding instead to take a ride to wherever we felt like going while the sun shined. This day of sunshine is like a holiday gift to us. My haircut can wait as it has all week long for one reason or another!
We started off close to home. We stopped at a few stores and then headed out on a road we did not normally take for anything just to see where it would go. We drove past the agriturismo that we stayed at when we visited Sciacca the second time and after a scary dead end, ended up on the upper Carboy Valley. We saw some gorgeous views of our familiar bridges from another perspective, and some impressive farmland. Shepards with their flocks of sheep were everywhere and the roads were littered with sheep turds.
We then headed inland with a vague wish to end up at San Cipirello for lunch at Apud Jatum, a favorite Sicilian restaurant. We drove on the “strada veloce,” the big road that connects Sciacca to the suburbs of Palermo. After a way-too-plentiful-lunch, we got off for a bit to chase some windmills. We saw gorgeous mountains and valleys, farmlands, towns tucked around mountaintops, and windmills everywhere. We even saw another ‘fata morgana,’ a mirage of the island of Pantelleria in the distance off the road from Castlevertrano. We found our way around an ever-widening circle of places we have been to and explored roads that we had never taken before. It was a wonderful day, only enhanced by a giggling late shopping trip to Castlevertrano on our way home in which we bought NOTHING! But we did manage to look like two stupid Americans who didn’t know their way around. Our secret was that even though we smelled better than a good 3/4 of the people in the stores, we have probably been on roads that day that 2/3 of the people there don’t even know about.

THE WEEK BETWEEN CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS

Normally we have company this time of year, but we are alone this year. But that is fine, as we have kept busy even with weather that has been a bit unstable. The rest of Italy is shivering under snow, so I am not complaining too much. Here are some pictures from the last week.

CHRISTMAS EVE AND CHRISTMAS DAY-GOOD FOOD IN SICILY

I hope everyone had a great Christmas. We did, and today is Steve’s onomastico, his Saint’s name day. San Stefano day is Dec 26 and according to old custom here, much more important than the date that he was born on. He has received several “Auguri” (best wishes) and gifts already today.
Christmas Eve we went to Joe and Brigette’s and joined the family and his mother for a fish celebration that it was amazing. Brigette is a great cook, but her cooking is so good that she actually got me to eat squid and gladly! Her stuffed squid was heavenly. We also had shrimp ka bobs, shrimp meatballs, sweet and sour ‘spatola’ (don’t know the equivalent in English) fillets with onions, breaded and fried cod (bacala), mussel casserole, and clams casino. That is 7 kinds of seafood, and I had heard that it was a traditional Christmas Eve dinner (but Brigette says it was just coincidence that she, Joe, and her daughter Enza chose those foods). Also part of the menu was salad (Joe's mother just could not get enough of it!), breaded fried cauliflower, and breaded fried olives. Dessert was a heavy cream profiterole. We joked and laughed till midnight and then came home to see if Babbo Natale came.
Sunday afternoon, Christmas day, we were back and knew we were in for more taste treats. Brigette had described the ingredients to me, but you readers can only imagine the Tortellini Burbero flavour. It was a cheese filled torellini with a sauce of mushrooms, pancetta and cream in a tomato base. Wow! She had gotten the recipe from a restaurant in Catania, and I bet they could go out of business if they give all their secrets like this one away. That was only the primo piatto (1st course). Segundo (second) was baked potatoes and a Beef Wellington pastry that featured the mushroom and beef flavour classic that was out of this world. An artichoke and green bean tray, and salad, and then fruits such as melon, avocado, tangerines, and nuts were served. Last was my contribution, an instant pumpkin cream pie from a mix I bought in Germany. Hey, we all missed pumpkin flavour, and the spiced nuts I make every Christmas and the spicy hot pumpkin soup I have been making just is not the same as that pumpkin flavour. And Jello does a real good job with these mixes.
So we are having lentil soup today. Something light is definitely called for. We missed our friends and family a lot, but our friends here are such a delightful treat that they help us be away from all of you for the festivities. Thanks again, Brigette, Joe, and Enza
And Happy San Stefano to all of you Stevans, Stevens, Stephanies, and Stephens.

Another Christmas Party

STEVE IS AGAIN GUEST WRITING THE COLUMN WHILE I GET SOME STUFF DONE FOR CHRISTMAS. HAVE A GREAT ONE! Fran

My family, as small as it is, has it’s own holiday tradition. As my nieces and nephews slowly grew out of the belief in Santa Claus, leaving his existence to the even younger, we started exchanging a very different sort of Christmas gift from family to family. I think my sister started it, by sending, as my present, a contribution to a women’s crisis and counselling center near where she lived. I started getting back at her by giving money to charities in my area that I thought were important, and who would use the funds wisely.
Since living in Sicily, I have been giving these family Christmas gifts to Agape, which is a non profit, parent run organization that takes care of adults with developmental and other disabilities (or is the word challenges, or different abilities, or special needs. Anyway, you get the idea). Paolo’s daughter Giusi attends the day program, and not only does she get a lot out of it, it also allows Paolo and Ignatzia to take care of a lot of things without having to worry about Giusi.
Paolo has done a lot for the organization. When they got new quarters near the newly constructed hospital, Paolo worked with his furniture store’s suppliers to get good prices on the chairs and tables that were needed. He pressured merchants to buy special Agape calendars one year, so that Agape could buy a new wheelchair bus. He got Agape on the list to get surplus or welfare food from the government, so that the parents can come in and cook with their children and the staff at Agape, which helps the nutrition of some of the poorer families, gives good skills to the client population, and gets everyone involved in the program.
He is president of Agape this year. He took over from Mr. Gallo. Mr Gallo was married to a woman whose maiden name was Gallina, and it is common for women to keep their maiden name throughout their marriage here. Gallo means Rooster, and Gallina means Hen. So it was Mr. Rooster and his wife Mrs. Hen. It seemed like a fairy tale set up. But I am losing the thread here.
As I said, Paolo is president of Agape this year, and he is proud to be president. He is also concerned, because the government has not come through with some of the funding that they are supposed to. Agape has had to pay to license their new bus, and has had to pay for the weekly psychologist consult they get, as well as for some physical and occupational therapy. He has had to raise the money to pay for these things mainly from the parents, and as I said above, some of them are too poor to give much.
This year, they had planned their annual Christmas party, and Fran and I were invited. Before the party, I gave Paolo a check as my Christmas present to my brother and sister, and my Christmas present to him. It was, of course, made out to Agape. He was pleased to get it, and pleased at the amount.
When we went to the Christmas party, he handed it back to me, and told me to give it to another woman we knew, who is the treasurer. She was very happy to get it. She went into the back room, with a friend, and came out with a bunch of twenty euro bills. She gave one to each of the parents who were there. They had paid for the Christmas party, and they got a refund, because my brother and sister were willing to pay for the party. I had to explain this to everyone.
In the meantime, people kept going over to the huge boxes of tabisco (table size) pizza’s that had been brought to the party. They kept trying to get Fran and I to eat one more slice of pizza. Because I had forgotten our cameras when we first got there, and had to go home and get them (we are considered their semi-official photographers), we missed out on the arancini that were served before the pizza. There were not enough arancini around for everyone to have two or three, but the clients did get theirs. Then there was too much pizza, so some of the parents were able to take some home. Then Santa arrived, and each client had a specially wrapped manger, as well as a Christ child, who, of course, could not be in the manger until Christmas day. Finally, as Fran and I were leaving to do a few other things before stores closed, we had to duck the panetone that they had for everyone. That is the holiday cake, and it is as common here and lasts as long as fruit cake does in the US.
Throughout the evening, everyone wanted to tell us how much they enjoyed the party that we sponsored, even though we did not know we would be sponsoring it. It certainly made us feel full of the Christmas spirit, and I think my brother and sister share in our pleasure.
May the spirits of peace and joy be with you, as the days slowly lengthen, and may our thoughts turn to love for all of humanity . . . May we all count our blessings, and appreciate the learning opportunities we have had in the years past. . . May calmness enter our hearts, and joyous expectations be our sustenance for the coming year . . .

Steve (and Fran)

The American Bakery

STEVE MADE A VISIT TO A BAKERY AND TODAY HE IS GUEST WRITER

It was a dark and stormy night. Nothing in town was moving. It was three o’clock in the morning, and the darkness was only relieved by lightning from time to time. The rain came down in torrents, than stopped for a few minutes, then came down in torrents again. I waited outside Panneficio Americano (The American bakery), and when Calogero, the owner, showed up at 3:15, he looked at me from the darkness of his small van for a minute or two, then opened the door and asked me what I was doing there at this hour. I told him that I was there to watch him bake bread. He shook his head and said: ‘Not a good day. Not a good day.’ Then he made sure that I had my car, and told me ‘some other time’.
That was a few months ago. His daughters had forgotten to tell him that I was going to show up when he opened the bakery on a Monday morning, and follow the process from cold ovens and empty shelves to opening the bakery with shelves brimming with hot, fresh bread. When I stopped for bread later in the day, they at first laughed at me for not showing up, and when I told them that I had been there, but he was not ready for me at three in the morning, they became embarrassed. Apparently one of the sister’s had told her husband, the master baker, to expect me, but he comes in a little after Calogero. While I was still at the bakery, Calogero came in from delivering some of his bread around town, and we laughed and went to the bar next door for coffee.
This morning I made another appointment, this time I made it with Calogero. I got there at three o’clock, which is about when he left his home on the eastern edge of Sciacca, under the shadow of Mt. Kronios. Calogero was born in Caltabellotta, but now lives in Sciacca. He got to Sciacca via Chicago. In Chicago he was first a brick layer, and then a landscape artist. He has the powerful, compact build of someone who can carry a hod all day long up and down ladders, and he has the eye of a person who can tell if the wall is plumb, and if the plant is in the right place. I visited his house once, and his gardens are wonderful.
When he retired from his landscaping business, he retired to Sciacca, down the hill from his hometown, where it stays a bit warmer, and certainly stays warmer than when he was in Chicago. He and his wife (also from Caltabellotta) have twin daughters, who were born and grew up in the United States. They have a younger sister who lives in Naples. The twins are both married to Sciaccatani, and both women work at the bakery. One (Paola) is married to Filippo, the person that I have come to think of as the Master Baker. The other (Maria) is married to a man who works at the Terme health care facility in town.
Calogero pulled up in front of the bakery, gave me a big smile, and said: ‘This morning is better. Cold though, four degrees (40 F) at home. Warmer than Chicago. This morning is better.’ He still had some sleep in his voice, and he opened the metal door to the bakery and immediately made sure the ovens were turned on before he took off his coat. I followed him in, and started taking pictures of the empty bakery. As I was taking pictures, Calogero started scooping flower into the smallest of the three large mixers. We were joined shortly by Filippo, and then by Salvatore, the third baker in the operation. Few words were spoken as thirty kilo sacks of flower were poured into the mixers, leavening, salt, and water added, and the huge beaters started rotating in the mix.
Filippo started working with the sesame seeds that were left out on the metal baking table over the weekend. He made sure they were damp, and scooped them into a large bowl. Then he went over and turned off the middle size mixer and brought the dough from a mixer and put it into a portioning machine. While he was doing this, he checked the consistency of the other two machines, adding a bit more flour to the smaller one , and adding a bit more water to the third. It all seemed pretty relaxed. No one gave orders, no one talked. They all knew their job. I knew my job was to keep quiet and keep out of the way. Fran can tell you, I am usually too upbeat early in the morning. I had the feeling that a lot of smiles and jokes would not go over real well with this audience.
Salvatore came over, and he and Filippo moved the metal table into position, then Filippo adjusted the controls, and the portioning machine started weighing out half kilo (1.1 pound) pieces of dough, and dropping them into a machine that rolled them into a ball, from which they fell into a machine that rolled them into a basic loaf or bat shape. Calogero came over from where he was monitoring the ovens, and the three started working the freshly mixed whole wheat flour into loaf shapes. First they worked with the half kilo loaves, and then they started making thinner, quarter kilo loaves. Filippo checked the heft of the balls of dough, and made adjustments to the machine, every once in a while checking his sense of how heavy the pieces were against a scale. He was always right on target with it. Amazing.
Before I could offer to help, the fifty loaves of whole wheat bread were all on trays, and the trays were on a rack on wheels so they could be moved. Calogero motioned me to follow him, as he rolled the trays into what he called the steam room. There, the bread was allowed to rise, and the small room is heated, and there is water near the heaters so that the dough does not dry out. It is right next to the huge bread ovens that he uses. Just before putting the rack into the steam room, Calogero and Salvatore sprayed each loaf with water.
When this was done, we went back to see Filippo just finishing up with his five pans of what is referred to in the states as ‘Sicilian style pizza’, and which is thought of here as bar pizza, or pizza for tavola calda. Calogero took over the work with the pizza, eventually placing the pans under a blanket, while Filippo refilled the medium and small mixers and started them up again. Then some of the dough from the large mixer was moved to the portioning machine.
The large mixer holds over ninety kilos of flour at a time. That means about 198 pounds of flour. They go through 8 thirty kilo bags of regular white flour each day, as well as whole wheat flour, cookie flour, and perhaps some other flours. They also use from eight to ten kilos of sesame seeds!! I am still tired from this morning, but you can do the math. They use a lot of flour, a lot of seeds, and make a lot of bread.
The three men started making rolls. Sandwich rolls. Half sandwich rolls. Small rolls. Seeded rolls. Thin rolls. Fat rolls. Fancy shaped rolls. Plain round rolls. Rack after rack of rolls. More rolls than I could count. Maria arrived during this work, at about 4:15, and started rolling rolls with the guys. Calogero kept his eye on the ovens and the bread in the steam room, and when the time came, he threw a pitcher of water on the stone base of the bread ovens, creating steam and a wet atmosphere, and put the whole wheat bread in.
Maria and Filippo never stopped their bread making. Filippo seemed the expert. He would roll breads and rolls, make final adjustments to Maria’s or Salvatore’s or even Calogero’s loaves and rolls, add sesame seeds, and make the cuts in some of the fancier loaves. While they were shaping their U shaped loaves, I asked Maria what the Italian word was for baker. She told me it was Panettiere. Filippo asked her to translate what we were saying. He smiled, as he rolled out a one kilo loave, long and thick, and said that he was called a Minghazzere! Perhaps one needs to know Italian slang to understand that one. He was surprised when I understood it, and we laughed about it, while Maria blushed.
They loaded tray after tray. They brought over a large rack, which held fifty half kilo loaves per shelf, which they loaded up. Each shelf had rollers, so that the shelf could be put in the oven, then pulled out, leaving the dough to be baked on the stone surface. There were six shelves on the rack, and the racks were filled three times while I was there.
Calogero kept busy monitoring the bread, and taking the bread out of the oven and placing it in certain areas to cool when it was done. The whole wheat bread was out of the oven and cool before I realized it. Cooled bread was moved to baskets so that the pans could be used again. Mary put the sauce and toppings on the pizza and readied them for the oven. After having me try my hand several times with the bread, they found something that I was good at, so it was my job to keep the floor somewhat clear of spilled flour, sesame seeds, and uncooked bread dough. At least I knew how to handle a broom!!
Paola came in, along with her mother. She came over and gave Filippo a good morning kiss, and Filippo immediately turned around and burned his hand on a hot pan! Then she and her mother started making ham sandwiches in the store area for the kids who come in on their way to school. At six o’clock, a guy that owns a roach wagon that goes to some of the schools in other neighbourhoods, came in and got forty panini rolls. The business day had started, and Filippo was still working his dough, still creating loaves, braids, twists, rolls, and focaccia. Mary started working in the front, and Filippo started giving me some things to do to get me used to handling the fresh dough. I made a few rolls, and put some of the dough that had been out of the portioning machine too long back into the rolling machine to be re rolled before being shaped. I put the seeds on the rosette rolls. I got Filippo to get a good laugh at a loaf that I rolled out, instead of just shaking his head and putting back in the rolling machine.
By seven thirty, I was dead on my feet. I had been there only four and a half hours. I have often seen Filippo still at work at noon and later. Filippo was filling his third set of racks of bread loaves. He had already made his second group of panini rolls. Forty ham sandwiches were ready for kids going to the near by hotel high school. The shelves were full of bread, and would be empty by nightfall, with anything left over being ground into bread crumbs (mollica) when it got hard enough. I took a half kilo of whole wheat bread, and a half kilo of regular bread off the now brimming shelves, and headed home, where Fran and I cut into both of them, spreading them with the wonderful peanut butter that we import from the states.

A CHRISTMAS PARTY

Sunday we gathered with some friends for a family Christmas dinner. We have been welcomed into this family from way back when Fabrizio Ricotta and Gabriella had their pizzeria “Friends.” They were some of our first Sicilian friends, actually, even before we realized that they may be related through the Ricotta relatives I have in Caltavutura (from my mother’s side). Anyway, Fabrizio introduced us to his mother Giovanna and Gianni, and to Giovanna’s old neighbors, Jack and Marianna and their daughter Veronica. They are from Montreal originally and speak English and Italian. Then there is his brother Filippo and his wife and two young sons Roberto and Ricardo.
So we all (15 of us) gathered at Gianni and Giovanna’s apartment in Sciacca. As always, we had a wonderful meal that consisted of many courses and many special treats. The ravioli dish was stuffed with ricotta cheese, sage, and rosemary and someone said it was a typical Christmas time pasta. Conversation flowed in Italian and English (Fabrizio and Gabriella and their two kids Michaela and Sergio all know some English too). We played an exciting new card game and exchanged gifts of food and pottery. The only bad thing was that Palermo lost their soccer game to Livorno. Ah well, ya can’t win them all!

A WALK

Happy Saint Lucy’s Day! Here in Sicily we celebrate by eating a traditional wheat dish (that Ignatzia prepares for her family and for us) and we fast from bread for the day. My relatives in the states prepared the same Santa Lucia dish, only without the sugar and chocolate, and we went to church to have our throats blessed by the priest. To do this, he laid two crossed candles against our young throats and mumbled some Latin that was supposed to protect us from sore throats all winter. Sort of like a flu shot, before they were invented. To me then, it beat “vicking up” and wearing garlic poultices around the neck. Both of these practices are still performed on both sides of the sea today.
We had heard that a storm was coming our way, and so we spent most of yesterday outdoors in gorgeous sunlight. We went for a walk and the light was very special, almost magical. I took a million pictures and tried to catch the flavor of the day, but of course that is impossible. A day like yesterday also makes me wish I knew more about photography and that I had a camera that could do justice to this scenery. Or at least, that I take some time and read the manual for my current camera. There is probably a lot of good information there.
Today, between driving wind and rain all day, it is hard to remember what yesterday was like. But our walk was typical of the reason why we like it so much here that we do not mind being without family for Christmas.

CHRISTMAS MARKETS (WEINACHMART)

What a good idea! Have a market where all kinds of local and imported goods are sold and people can shop for gifts and decorations while they eat and drink and meet friends and neighbors. Actually, Mexico and Spain have them, Italy has some, but the US just has those darn shopping malls, so we must be too civilized for this sort of thing. But they are such fun! The temptation to buy everything was strong, and so I was quite thrifty, instead being content to look for the next booth that sold hot wine (gluhwein). You pay a deposit for the first cup and then keep the cup and turn it in each time and get the wine in another clean cup for a little over a euro. We came home with two mugs as souvenirs from 2 of the 3 markets we went to.
Depending on the market, the cozy set-ups were like small stores, and some were even in whimsical shapes, like the train engine booth. There was an amazing variety of products for sale. One booth had only brushes and brush related items, like a brush cleaner set. Another had only wind up toys. Many booths had traditional cookies and candies, and in the three markets we attended, there was always a bees wax candle booth, wooden candle pyramid booths, and native and Polish pottery. We bought a pair of tongs from a booth with only kitchen accessories, and we purchased ginger candy, cinnamon sticks, and hot wine spices from a crowded tea and spices booth.
The Frankfurt weinachmart is the oldest in Germany, having been started in the 1300’s. It is in the middle of the historical center of Frankfurt and has grown so that today it extends down the busiest shopping streets of the city. The permanent buildings in this area are just gorgeous, many of them being reconstructed after being destroyed by allied bombing in World War 2. We spent a lot of time there as it was by far the biggest with the most variety. The booths there were really little houses transported for the occasion, and their relative permanence made these clever establishments the most solid looking. A soup booth there looked like a good sized well-equipped kitchen with a raised linoleum floor and 5 giant pots on heaters around which the five employees moved, efficiently filling orders. A sausage booth was a huge suspended revolving metal cage enclosing sausages that could be moved over the coals or to any part of the booth to fill customer’s orders. Ingenious! And after eating German sausages in Italy that do not have the proper spices, eating the knockwursts and bratwursts and rindwursts were a real treat.
The Heidelberg market was set against the beautiful castle that we had visited on our previous trip here on the mountain above the city. This city also had set up a skating rink close by the market and as on our last trip, it was full of tourists. The other smaller market we went to in Ladenburg was full of local products and quite amateurish in relation to the other two. But there was such a warm and pleasant feeling about this small market set up in the picturesque town square! Here we saw groups of people encountering and greeting each other, so much so that it seemed we were the only ones in town that did not know everyone else. Their gluhwein cup was the most interesting, being in the shape of a boot. I cannot report on its taste, though, since by that time I had realized that it was the hot spiced red wine that was giving me such headaches in the middle of the night! Steve tells me that it was quite good. That night we had supper in a cellar where our meat came on a stone so that we could cook it ourselves. Good beefsteak is another luxury we do not have in Sicily.
And with all the walking and eating, I did not gain a pund!

FRANKFURT-SUMMER OF LOVE, RED LIGHT DISTRICT, AND RENT

While in Germany we saw a museum show and a musical that were straight from the US culture. Now I suppose it is silly to go all the way to another country to see American things, but we immersed ourselves in the German Christmas marketing system (we participated in 3 separate ones, Frankfurt, Ladenburg, and Heidelberg), and the food customs (I think one day we ate 3 knockwurst sandwiches apiece) so it is not like we ignored German things. Besides, we always look for American music and books when we travel, so American stage shows and art are not so far off. It didn’t mean that we were rejecting the culture of the country we are visiting, we just weren’t in the mood for peep shows! More on that later.
The Shirn museum is in the heart of the restored old section of Frankfurt, and it is beautiful. There will be more shots tomorrow of this area with the Christmas market views. But the museum itself did not allow cameras into the exhibit, and the only way I got the shots that I did was by not knowing I couldn’t take them! These scenes are from a large walk-in lightbox on the first floor of the exhibit. The hippy “art” is stuff that any of us over 40 remember from news, ads, fashion, posters, music, and just everyday living. But this show was interesting in the scope of the presentations. It seemed to have every album cover, magazine article, Fillmore poster, and film that ever concentrated on the hippy scene. I watched most of a 16 mm camera film of the first draft card burning in Central Park and it all looked so familiar, like a part of my past that was just waiting to be remembered, and I played the game of looking for people that I knew then. There were typical light shows and a colorful “hippy pad” platform to watch them from in case you were in a drug trance (it reminded me of a padded multi-level cat playground), scenes of experimental theater involving famous people like Andy Warhol’s troupe at The Factory, John and Yoko, and just plain silliness like kaleidoscope glasses to look through. All in all it was a fun time.
As we walked around town, we happened on The English Theater and were delighted to find a performance of Rent that was reasonably priced while we were in the city. So we went one evening and it was fabulous! I had seen Rent on Broadway and we owned the soundtrack and played it a lot. This performance was excellent, and I did not know until the next day when I went back to buy the program that it was not a local group but the London Touring Group. I took some set shots before the play started, being aware that cameras would probably not be allowed during the performance. So I was surprised just before the intermission as I was fumbling for a tissue when someone tapped me on the back and said, “No cameras allowed!” I told the person I was just getting a tissue and tried to concentrate again, but it was really strange. I wonder if she stood back there the whole performance to see if I would take other pictures?
We spent two nights in the central city before we went out to Gene and Nancy’s in Lampertein. The hotel was part of a package deal from Expedia.com, and all we knew about it was that out hotel was close to the central station. No one bothered to tell us that it was smack in the middle of the red light district! Yes, the sex shops and peep shows were on every corner, along with the tattoo parlor called “The House Of Pain.” To be fair, that is only one of its locations. It has several branches, and I vaguely remember seeing it also in Amsterdam.
But we had no problems, for downtown Frankfurt seemed to be more full of well dressed business people than any other types. Again, the bank and office buildings were quite sensational!

FRANKFURT GERMANY AT CHRISTMASTIME

We returned from Frankfurt Sunday night with a sack full of goodies and an appreciation for our mild winter temperatures and comfortable apartment. Although the weather there was not extreme, it was good old fashioned winter, snow and all. Although we hit a streak of dry calm and partially cloudy weather, it was still way too cold for me! But we managed to keep warm and we certainly kept busy.
Frankfurt is the home of Goethe, as well as an international banking capital and a very old city that was pretty much bombed out during the second war and has now rebuilt itself into a model of the financial capital of Europe. The stark contrasts between new and old are seen constantly. The ancient Roman baths ruins are right next to the ruins of a medieval castle, which then sits next to a major Norman church, near a modern museum housing the show “Summer of Love,” showing art of the hippy era. We explored the area around Frankfurt and Lampertein where our friends from Syracuse Gene and Nancy now live. The area is really scenic and helped by Christmastime, which is a real big deal here! The Christmas markets (Weinachmarts), all of which feature hot spiced wine (gluhwein) kept us warm and happy looking at all of the lovely things to buy. We bought a little, too.
But I never can get those German words, sounds or spellings, to roll off of my tongue, or even straight in my mind. I feel more than competent in Spanish and Italian and even French now, but I haven’t a clue what the German stuff I hear means. It really is frustrating to me. Steve is very good at learning and pronouncing German. Fortunately, Germans are almost all less lazy than me and speak pretty good English.
So here are a few general shots and then stay tuned because I’ll be writing a report on the Shirn museum’s hippy art exhibit, the red-light district where our hotel was located, as well as the London road show version of Rent that we saw at the English theatre there.