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

Heidelberg ist Wunderbar

One tradition we have is this: We take care of the birthday kids. This trip--5. First up--Danielle. Danielle spent her 18th birthday going to the top of the Eiffel Tower--top that! We celebrated with her and two friends, Reina and Alina, the next day in Heidelberg by taking them to the venerable Vetters, a brats and kartoffelsalud (meat and potatoes) establishment next to the Alte Brucke (old bridge). See photos. We learned that Reina has traveled all over South America, that Alina's dad can't stand the thought of her going off to college, and that Danielle is a vegetarian who eats chicken.

Those witnessing our coach pulling into Heidelberg might have commented on the beeline race all 40 made toward the Heidelberg Schloss which looms over the town (see bridge photo). It's true: they were trying to get in before it closed. But why? It's cool to see, that's for sure. But cool becomes them anyway. They are walking encyclopedias of cool. They are more excited to have seen the star of Jackass at the Fitzroy Pub in London than to realize that Dylan Thomas and Charles Dickens were once regulars at said pub. No, they ran because they were seeking out the answer to the question 'what was the name of the Italian dwarf who guarded the largest wine barrel in the world situated behind the walls of the Castle?' It's Perkeo--most still don't know, because they arrived with simultaneous shutting of doors we all know so well.

You see, we have quizzes on the coach rides. That's right. We gotta get them ready for college. No slacking off. Only here's the catch: prizes attend the winners.

In our first test of wherewithal, Lauren D., with a score of 17/20, bested second place finisher Lauren H. while Nora D-H placed third. Questions range from 'a statue of this creature occurs on all major streets entering the City of London (the answer, as all Harry Potter fans know, is the Griffin), to who is keeping a list of beers tried on the yellow notes app of his iphone (answer: Joe L., but don't worry Katy and Greg, he's only tried three . . .I think).

Truly but wryly,

LV

Paris Pictures

Everyone made curfew tonight, the first late night out in Paris, and had mostly good reviews. Tomorrow might rain on the summer solstice party--called Fete de la Musique, but kids are adjusting to Paris quite nicely after the golden slumber that was Brugge. Today they studiously held onto every word our guide said about the history of the city as our coach whisked us here and there. Either that or they were asleep at the back of the bus--I heard Curtis sleeps with his eyes open. We got out for pictures at the Isle Cite for Notre Dame, the Trocadero for the Eiffel Tower, and Montmartre for the amazing Sacre Coeur. Many ate lunch on this hill made famous by turn of the century artists Van Gogh, Latrec, and Picasso. LV headed off to Amelie sights with Rod P., Lauren H., and Curtis M. Here's a few pictures.

Brugge, Bruges, Burg

Brugge means Bridge but should mean simply Beautiful. The kids love it, moving through the medieval streets and Flemish architecture--crow's step facades, towers, flowers in window sills--with a newfound gusto (now that they've conquered London).

Today everyone rented a bike, as you can see. It was an impressive line up, to say the least. Look for more pictures in the gallery link--not sure I know how to do a link--you might have to copy and paste. Anyway, I didn't bring a camera this year but am using the iphone and the pics aren't bad. Still I'm limited with no zoom. LV led them to the edge of town--we had to look for four windmills, wait for the locks to change on the canal, and cross one busy street and then we were home free on a 17 kilometer ride along the river to Sluice, Holland. The scenery is serene and pastoral, with coots, cows, herons, small-town cafes, tall Cottonwoods, magpies, lilypads, and wild rhubbarb. Oh yeah, I wonder if anyone saw the two huge Storks nesting in a tree near the border--no border guards, just ride into town. A few people took falls, but no one went into the river like Shanazerian did a few years ago.

here's the gallery site: http://gallery.me.com/mjhoeger#100073

Sorry so many pictures of LV--he's always mugging the camera.

Tomorrow we leave the City of Bridges and take a 4 hour drive to The City of Light.

Truly but wryly,

LV

This is How London Calls

This is how London calls. Unexpectedly. Surreptitiously. Superstitiously. Yesterday we were closing out our tour with our favorite guide Alison Johnson--she of the blood red hair--dishing out gossipy details of kings and queens amidst the sterling sunshine, when, after one mention of Henry VIII on the exact site where six people were beheaded, and the clouds lurched and the wind blustered forth in a funnel of foreboding ambiance. Today I weathered the uncertain skies for the open air Globe Theatre, but when the curtain lifted so did the clouds casting a brilliant ray down directly on this lonesome vagabond. In this instance the conveyence was clear: how had this literary tour guide skipped the globe on each of his six journeys to Londontown?

London holds no grudges. As You Like It was as I wanted it and more. Shakespeare lives, Dr. Johnson lives as does Henry VIII on every billboard, and Charles Dickens in every pub.

London is not a ghost of literary past, nor an ode to colorful history or a kitschy monument to what once was. It just is. The past is the present in an unforced way that few cities can claim. And that's why our kids--let me call them kids even though they're not (it's fewer letters than students or young adults or European dreamers)--like it. This isn't Disneyland, it's better, it's real. While the piss alleys do smell like piss, the greenery of the parks and the elegance of the towers--that's what makes them faint. And faint a few of them did, but that's another story now isn't it?

We were talking about mystery and a history and clouds moving at cinematic speed. Our kids moved at remarkable speed through the city today. While Coach Hall sat sedentary at La Traviata hold back tears in the Royal National Opera House, and LV wiggled through the other groundlings at The Globe, the kids were racing to see London in a day. I met up with a few pictured at Monmouth Coffee in Covent Guardens and heard a few stories. Lauren G., Jordan S., and Erin R., were mistaken for Charlies Angels on their quest to find Abbey St. (it's Abbey Road), Kelsey G., Olivia D., Jenna G. and Brianne S., were labeled The Spice Girls by more than one passerby on their separate journey to The Beatles pilgrimmage (they found.) Skyler S., Nora D-H, Paige H., Aimee S., and Michelle C. spent two hours exploring the labyrynth that is The British Museum only to hightail it down to the Tate Modern and kick back at Hyde Park.

Meanwhile the six ravens at the Towers live on. And did any one not go on the London Eye?

There are more stories to tell, more people to mention and, rest assured, all kids will get mentions and pictures in the coming days. All, and I'm quite sure, all are doing great. Just relax. The wind will take us where it takes us, and right now it is taking me to bed--I hope; because if you're doing the math it's very, very late--Londontime.

Truly but wryly,

LV,

The Literary Vagabond

We leave for Europa on June 13

Forty students--plus Mr. Hall and Mr. Hoeger--will be leaving for London on June 13.
Much more to come. Much much more.

Truly, but wryly,
LV