Eden Beach

A cool Apollonian breeze woke my hot-beach dozing with an oracular whisper: time for the last blog. But as I walked back up the ancient stone steps to The Eden Beach Resort Hotel--an hour south of Athens--a burden of Herculean scope emerged: how to convey in mere words the memory of this place? I am now summoning the courage of Dionysus to rhapsodize without hyperbole. It has a vibe, a European vibe, naturally. The bar's white drapes billow to the soft jazzy rhythms wafting from the speakers while the The Young--Frappe's in hand--mingle unselfconsciously in the sun. Few tourists here. It is a rocky, Mediterranean scenario of Sangria sunsets. This could be Barcelona or Nice.

Eden Beach reminds me of my teenage summers in St. Tropez. Not many know, but growing up in Sioux Falls, I had a childhood friend who moved from France. I still remember the day he entered our class in the 5th grade. So embarrassed was he of his French accent that he said his name, Pierre, was pronounced Pier. Pierre Feloffa. After he became one of us, we would tease him with 'He fell-offa zee Pier.' In the summers I went back with him to St. Tropez and met his relatives, including his cousin, Brigette. We used to sit on the dock, kick our feet in the water, and she'd tell me one day we would get married, move back to South Dakota, grow grapes, and she'd teach me how to pick them. But then I met a more beautiful Barbara from Sheboygan--my Barbarella--and my new dreams of making Brats in Wisconsin replaced the cold winds of St. Tropez.
I sometimes wonder what happened to Brigette Bardot.

This entry is a team effort from the team. The team is now tired. Happy, but tired. They are eager to see you again. In two days.

Wryly but truly,
LV

Patmos and Hearts

Patmos is a small, quiet island with a pebbly beach at the port and a few calamari chew-shacks and a few pirate-alley shopping streets. After walking up the hill above the city of Choros, one senses the true wonder of the place, the vistas, the gentle winds, the stillness. No wonder St. John felt some startling other-worldly presence here which inspired him to write Revelations in a cave up a little higher. How ironically blessed he must have felt after he was shackled and shipped out of Ephesis for preaching Christianity to the Roman trinket sellers surrounding the theater there--to come to this prison! The kids probably don't think much of Patmos but they are having fun swimming now--as I write--in the Aegean Sea. How many of you have done that?

I have descended after my hillside ascension--sorry, Biblical phrases are at the forefront of my mind after our morning tour of Ephesis in Turkey. St. Paul was also booted out, sent to Rome and beheaded there, I believe. Now I type away at an internet cafe.

Much to my chagrin, my laptop died on me. The late-night ease at which I could blog and post pictures is now gone. There'll be no more pictures, I'm afraid--until I get back and can load some more. But by that time, your kids will be back, too. In fact, Nora and I are staying a week longer to meet up with my family in Paris--Barb's sister lives there. So if you remember, check the blog one last time this summer for the last pictures. I have good ones from Italy.

Rest assured, we are having a heck of a time. The kids have created a special bond. Some old friends have reunited: middle-schooler friends 4 ever Rachel L., Stephanie, Gabby and Nora. And then we have the "I can't believe I didn't talk in high school:" Nora and Jill--they got up early to watch the sun rise over The Matterhorn, as did Reina, Alina, and Danielle. Many don't want to come home.

Most are healthy, too. Let's see: I took Gabby to the doctor today for sinus anti-biotics. The doctor said swim a little in the ocean, take some salt water up your nose, it'll cure it. See how advanced they are here? I'm joking. Actually, all the docs have been great. I took Kyle to see one in Florence and his ear infection is now cured. Mr. Hall took Rod and his bandaged hand and Kelsy and her sprained ankle to the doc in Zermat and they're healed! Earlier we had a few sniffles--I can't really remember before Paris. Back to bonding: Ari and Andrew, two early fake-loners, have been big hits now with the whole group--kids appreciate their independent spirit of adventure; Brooke and Rachel H. of late have been inseparable, for 10 seconds, Jill talked to her best friend from the PV trip, and Mitch and Alex saw close friends too, as did Stephanie. (The PV trip was just leaving the cruise ship as we were embarking.)

As far as relationships, I doubt anyone will come back with a new boyfriend or girlfriend. I did see one Nordic boy (J.E.) wink at one of the Laurens and one Stanford Cardinal bird-call signal to another Lauren. I don't think they want me to say any more. Suffice it say that Jenna and Stephen are back on track and Rod and Lauren H (third Lauren), of course, are tighter than ever. Joe Laetsch lost he's focus during the hearts tournament--losing to LV--when he got that far-away glaze thinking of Kelly back home. (He has that look a lot, Kelly.) Charlie's Angels are often thinking of EE--(nickname Charlie).

Possibly the most adventureous travelers have been Chelsea, Paige, Aimee, and Michelle. In every city they take out their notes from the meetings and charge right out there. Nicole Nakata even climbed to the top of the Campinelle next to the Duomo in Florence (461 steps according to Rachel L., and Missie who also made the climb).

Apparently, Kelsey is still celebrating her 18th birthday, but her best friend Olivia is keeping her grounded. From what I heard, they had the most fun at Florence's late-night Space Electronica disco. Curtis and Derek had the third and fourth best night out, according to insiders.

And then there's Liz: she had the most amazing comeback during the hearts tournament two nights ago on the Ferry ride to Greeze. Having to avoid the dreaded 100 score she raced up to 98 and then shot the moon dispiriting Kyle and Shannon, both of whom thought they were in.
But her glory was short lived as she and LV were upset in one semi-final by Lauren D. (who stopped LV twice from shooting the moon) and Skyler.

So who won? Coach Hall, of course. In my seven years of going, he has won 5 times. Even though LV is possibly the most poised player of all, he has never won. This year Skyler came in 2nd, Nora third, and Lauren D. 4th in a very tight race that came down to the last hand--don't they all. Congrats all.

Wryly but truly,

LV

The Gornergrot's view of The Matterhorn

Yesterday many of us--not as many as other years-- attempted

the

legendary hike:

Zee Gornergrot. The Gornergrot

is a

roughly 5 hour hike

up to an elevation of 3100 meters. This climb presents a conundrum of many angles to the hiker's mind. It is beautiful beyond description and nearly every step affords a spectacular view of The Matterhorn (4478 m). The camera clicks early and often with the belief that this shot is unsurpassed--until you've ambled another one hundred feet, er meters. The zigzag route seems to turn the asymmetrical pyramid that is The Matterhorn, and an Aladin-like sudden appearance of a pillowy cloud transforms it again and again. But appreciation melts into the realization that if one stops to rest the muscles and gaze, motor skills may not perform as once believed. And the mind controls the muscles, I think. At least in evolutionary biology they did. Or Descartian philosophy. So what was I saying. I could say this in fewer words. The climb tires one out. And why do the novices--everyone except Hall and LV--have to keep asking us 'how much further?' The only variation of 'we're almost there' I could think of was, "Did you notice how absolutely lovely The Matterhorn looks right now?' In truth it is mostly the last 45 minutes that test a man or woman's resolve, and the ones who tried, really tried, well, they all made it.

Four finished first. Nicole (basketball team) and Nora (tennis team) represented the girls, while Trevor and Curtis (both baseball) did it for the guys in 4 hours flat. They all touched cement simultaneously. Significantly, Nora held up a pledge: tennis players have finished first the last three years--Michael Aston claimed the record last year in 3 hours flat, while David Eiges, a few years prior, did it in 3 hrs. 10 minutes. This is proof positive what I've always believed: tennis players are the best athletes. What is remarkable about this group, however, is that they went the wrong way by at least a half an hour and they all managed to stay together. Those desirous to win the climb have all gone solo and this group worked as a team.

Meanwhile, Hall and LV comforted the determined, but sickly second and third units by singing songs, telling stories, howling, reciting poetry, and displaying an array of bird calls that surely kept their spirits up. As an example, here's a bit of doggerel I composed.

Ode to The Gornergrot

You thought you left me there to rot,

But I was on The Gornergrot

You guessed I lost my will, my mind

Your thoughts of me left far behind.

But I was on The Gornergrot

The ancient peak that time forgot;

Across the way, The Matterhorn,

The most majestic ever born.

But I was on The Gornergrot.

I watched you fade toward the spot--

3000 meters, maybe more,

Then something happened to restore.

It came not from pride nor from within.

I knew I would again begin

And make my way up to the top,

For I was on The Gornergrot.

Frosty spoke of roads not taken,

Thoreau talked of desperation.

But I caught and passed you near the top

For I was on The Gornergrot.

The mountain was what sustained,

The Edelweis, marmots and terrain.

Your thought you left me there to rot,

But I was on The Gornergrot.

That is one of the problems. Groups fatten and thin out like silly puddy. For much of the walk I was with Jill, Rachel Lo, Paige and Missy. That's why they're in my pictures. (Amazingly, Rachel Lo didn't complain once. No lie. When she has a camera in her hand, she's happy. And her pictures are amazing. Mine are merely 2 gig-a-bit fakes.)

Here's the order of ascent.

1-4. Nicole, Nora, Trevor, Curtis

5. Liz

6. Hall

7. Shannon

8. LV

9. Joe (he, Rod and Derek started 45 mins. later)

10. Rod

11-14. Jordan, Lauren, Erin, Jill

15. Derek

16. Rachel Lo, Paige, Missy

17-18. Michelle and Lauren H.

19. Reina

20. Andrew

21.-24. Mitch, Skylar, Kyle, Jacob (also started 45 mins. late)

If you don't see your son's or daughter's name, they'll have a good excuse for you, I'm sure. Not as good as mine: I did it with a torn meniscus--surgery in August. Some took the train to the top or took the train down. But only 7 of the 24 hiked all the up and all the way down. Those seven are Joe, Curtis, Derek, Rod, Nora, Hall and LV. One girl and I'm proud of her.

Mt. High and wry,

LV

Lucerne in Pictures

Lucerne is a beautiful lake city and we only had a few hours this year because we had a little bus maintan- ance problem. We had a grand old world hotel, though and a nice walk almost around the lake.

We saw the lion that Mark Twain called the saddest in the world--see photo with two other proud lions.

Mostly just photos here. I've almost caught up to Zermatt and the hike for a lifetime--incidentally, I've posted 3 times while you slept.

LV

Austrian Modernism

Austrian rain sent many into the cafes and coinci- dentally nine kids barged into my secret, old fashioned cafe called Wernbacher, interrupting my nostalgic revery. Wernbacher Cafe was the first to introduce Salzburgians to Italian espresso and it's decor has seemingly not changed since 1953. Wafting out of the speaker?--Charlie Parker, Dinah Washington and The Swingle Singers (of all people--you remember their a cappella versions of Bach and Mozart in the '60s?). I was left wondering if the owner is hip or if they haven't changed the playlist for 40 years either. Anyway, I set down willingly my book, The Angel's Game--Carlos Ruiz Zafon's new prequel to his extraordinary Shadow of the Wind-- because it's not as good as latter (in this sentence) but the former as in previous, and I attempted to educate them on the peculiar charms of Austrian Modernism.

Of course my students already know the place Mid-century Modern has in my life. They know my love of Eero Saarninen Tulip Chairs, Charles and Ray Eames' Chaise Lounge Chair, and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe's Barcelona Chair. In fact we've seen some of these on our trip. Joe L. and friends saw in a Lucerne storefront Eames' fiberglass rocking chair. We caught Nora in an Arne Jacobsen's Egg Chair in the Pullman Bercy Hotel in Paris. This chair was designed in 1958 for a Radisson Hotel in Copenhagen. We also noticed with breathtaking admiration an Isamu Noguchi glass coffee table at the Pullman. My wife and I so admire this 1944 creation of pure abstract simplicity--two interconnecting wooden bases and one slab of glass--that I not only have to show you a photo but have to admit we've made two trips out to Palm Springs just to buy one, only to pull back at the last second. Some day. Some day.

Anyway, Austrian modernism is more rectangular than Scandinavian modernism, which employs the curvilinear line to sensual heights. Austrian modernism is an offshoot of German Bauhaus, so limited by its idealistic propaganda of creating houses that were "machines for living," as Le Corbusier said. But Bauhaus opened up new possibilities and ultimately changed everything.

I pointed out the cafe's mahogany, straight-backed chairs with royal blue and maroon upholstery, the lighting structures, and the square art deco coffee bar. They nodded with fake enthusiasm and went back to finishing their caprese salad on toast. Then they left looking for their Bosna-loving friends--mostly the boys, although Jillian had 7 in three days. Bosna is a double beef/pork combo frankfurter spiced with curry powder and mustard. It's unique to Salzburg and is cheap.

On to Lucerne.

Truly with curry,

LV

Salzburg and Rain

Yes, it true: it rained for two and a half days in Salzburg. Rain didn't disturb the joy that is the Salt Mines, but it did put a damper on the trick water fountains mansion tour, also know as Hellbruin. And our typical rendezvous at the Augustiner put us inside rather than at the garden tables, but the kids survived and when the sun finally burst through revealing the glistening city of tarnished green domes and spires all sighed a spiritual 'wow'--they finally knew why Salzburg always makes the trip.

Each city has at least one dinner together night--usually it's in the hotel (For the others we hand them money to find their own meal). The hotel meals are actually decent and it's good for the kids to be handed a plate of the plat du jour and that's what you get. Picky eaters begone.

Another benefit for me is sitting with different kids and finding out stuff. In Salzburg I sat with Nicole N., Michelle C., Aimee S., Paige H., Brook B., and Rachel H. Instead of talking about the rain they told me what music they've been listening to and what books they've been reading. We told kids to bring a book for the bus rides and the raining days.

Here's what I remember. Nicole is reading Perfume--you may have seen the movie--and listening to The Fray and wearing a The Morning Benders t-shirt some days, while Paige is reading Agatha Christie's Death on the Nile and listening to "The Ancient Common Sense of Things," by Bishop Allen, and "See You on the Moon," by The Great Lake Swimmers, which she heard from Mr. Hoeger's Ipod and decided were the two best songs in the world.

Michelle is reading I Legend--you may have seen the movie--but she says the book is different and better. Brooke is reading Swapping Lives by Jane Green about a single Vogue editor in her late-twenties of can't figure out why all her friends are getting married. Rachel is currently without a book so she listens to lots of music including Faith Hill, Jack Johnson and some American Idol star of last year--forgot his name, is it David someone?

Last but not least we have our editor of the Beardful of Butterflies, Aimee, reading "A Year in Provence" and listening to Franz Ferdinand. Such sophistication. Sorry no pictures of dinner. A couple of the guys at The Augustiner Biergarten after the rain broke.

Wryly but truly,

LV

Gelato and Eis in Paris and Heidelberg

Speaking of beer, in Paris I solved a riddle that has been plaguing me for three years. What does biscuit taste like? Now I know you old timer five and dimers who still take a tea break, probably know. But I didn't know. Have you ever read a beer connoiseur's review of Belgium's legendary Trappist West -vleteren? or Samuel Smith's redoubtable Oatmeal Stout? or Surly's newly crowned Furious? Yes you have. Remember that amidst the palaver of hints of raisins, chocolate, anise, apricots and toffee comes, there it is, biscuits. The residual biscuity whiff. What? It's always there. Why? The biscuits I know have Southern gravy plopped on it.

Parisian gelato, of all things, solved the phenolated riddle. This year we lucked out with our Paris hotel which was situated by the Seine in the Bercy district, arrondissment, if you will. A series of old wine cellars were gutted to make way for an upscale hip du jour walkway of restaurants and boutique shops called The Village Bercy. If you go to Paris I recommend the Pullman Bercy which is just-posh-enough, on the Metro line, and nestled against one of the best unsung parks in Paris--Bercy Park. Kids discovered the gelato stand first, I went second and while standing in line noticed others all getting the same flavor, Biscotti. Why get biscotti--they pronounced it BIS-cotti, not Bis-COT-ti--over pistache or mango, I thought? Do what locals do. I got biscotti, a fait accompli ! Delicious, but how to describe? Then I remembered that I had bought a small package of English biscuits in London but hadn't tried them. On the ingredients list I found the answer--wheat flour, sugar, palm fat and barley malt extract. Ahh. biscuit is barley. And barley, hops, water and yeast is beer. Now I know what you surely already knew. Now it's on to the next quest--what the heck is palm fat? Let's hope the Italians have palm fat gelati.

Heidelberg's ice cream is simply called Eis. The girlsin top photo--left to right in picture, Chelsea B., Kelsey G., Missie S., Stephanie S., Olivia D., Nora D-H., and Brianne S.-- seemed to be enjoying it when I ran into them. They were on their way to Germany's oldest college started in 1386, Universitat Heidelberg. See Sweatshirts--Jordan S.'s pic 4. We all found the student union and started practicing for our hearts tournament later on the Cruise. Pic #2 Chelsea B. and Skyler S., Pic #3 Nora, Kyle B., Jillian K. (thanks for reading Kelly K.)

If you haven't seen a good picture of your kid, yet, just wait.

Truly but Ryely,

LV